tagBDSMThe Analyst

The Analyst

byL O Reins©

I sat in the soft leather club chair taking in the details of the office and the beautiful blond sitting across from me as I waited for her instructions. She was very tall though most of her length was in her legs. They were hard to ignore, sheathed in a nude-look nylon with a subtle seam—they probably had those dark toe and heel reinforcements too--and accentuated by a fitted business suit with barely enough room to hold those elongated and defined thighs. She looked up from her notes and smiled but still said nothing. There were no wasted words, no coddling, just that professional pause until I became so uncomfortable I began to fidget. “Tell me what brings you here today, Mr. Bartlett.”

I didn’t know where to begin so I started in about my history in vague terms. My hedging prompted her to take a more direct tack. “Mr. Bartlett, I am a psychiatrist known for my work in human sexuality. I am a trained professional with years of experience. I am also a woman with a woman’s intuition for these things. We can get to the matter more quickly if you just bypass all the stop and go traffic and tell me why you are here.” “Well I am fine… sexually I mean. I do get obsessed sometimes and my eyes stray. Well maybe my thoughts stray but I don’t really do anything about it…anything harmful…I mean nothing illegal or illicit.” She lowered her pencil to the pad, raised her piercing blue eyes over the rim of her reading glasses and rejected my opening, “I am sorry, Mister Bartlett but I believe you are not being completely open with me. I think you have been obsessed with sexual thoughts for a very long time and probably have been acting out in ways that are not so nice to woman and dangerous to yourself. You came here today to talk with me about those things." I began to feel trapped and desperately tried to will the hands on the clock to spin to the fifty-five minute mark. She went on, “I know what you are thinking Mr. Bartlett. I have notes about your previous mental history and I can feel it as you look at me now. You are disarmed by my looks and you want desperately to give in to your primal sexual urges. I assure you I am used to this. All men deal with these thoughts and impulses. They are even healthy in the average male.” But you are not so average; you are not thinking normal sexual thoughts at all. You are more creative than that, aren’t you?” You want to be naughty and dirty with the women to whom you are attracted—to do little boy things in front of them. You are an adolescent, a man-child, and you want to bathe in your adolescence forever.

Seeing a new analyst at my wife, Melanie’s orders was something I was not excited about but I knew it was the last chance I had to save our marriage. I had finally caught up to my raging libido and maybe even passed it on the backstretch. We had had many discussions over my roving eyes, hang-dog tongue and little indiscretions but the resulting embarrassment of being caught in the headlights of my wife’s car as she pulled into the driveway that night was the final straw. I was naked and peeping through my neighbor’s window. It hadn’t been the first time I stripped off my pajamas and slipped out our back door. The thrill of stealing through the joining back yards with the feel of the dewy grass under my naked toes and the cold night autumn air in my nostrils was exhilarating. My neighbor is an attractive, flirtatious, single woman, who works in the banking industry. Patricia is very pretty and sexy with a cherubic body. She has a perfect hart-shaped ass and full breasts with prominent dark nipples, which I have peeked at over coffee or a trip to the mailbox. She is chubby but beautifully proportioned. She’s also prone to insomnia and, as I found out on my stolen late night visits, she likes to masturbate as much as I do. I watched her from her window, wet and naked from her bath, on the bed on her elbows and knees, ass up and cherry red as she spanked herself with her hairbrush. I stroked myself as I watched her roll to her side and bend her knees to her chest. Raising one pretty leg up towards the ceiling and pointing her toes, she squirted a big dollop of lubricant on the head of the oversized cock-shaped vibrator. She was just twisting it into the tiny puckered opening when I, so very close to erupting, felt the white-hot rush of the high beams. My shadow--knees bent, back hunched, dick hard and in both hands--was cast through the window onto her bedroom wall causing her to scream at the top of her lungs. I bolted for the safety of the back porch and my clothes but as I stepped inside Melanie snapped on the lights. I stood before her naked, clothes in hand with my dick and my cheeks reddened from stroking and humiliation.

My neighbor never found out who the peeping tom was because my wife agreed to keep the secret as long as I did what she wanted me to do.

“If you don’t go and see this therapist and do something about your dirty little urges, Gill Bartlett, I will leave you low and dry to play with yourself.” And the last thing I’ll do before I go is tell Patricia, your peek-a-boo fantasy girl, that it’s you who has been jerking off all over her aluminum siding for months. She can do whatever she wants with that information. Sometimes I wonder if this is what you really want--to just be by yourself so you can play with your pud any old time you want. Is that what you want, Gill? Do you want to be left alone …you and little Mister Winky? The answer was simple “no…that’s not what I want. Of course I don’t want you to leave me, Melanie. I love you and I need you.” To that she said, “well then this is your last chance. You will go and make an appointment with the analyst that was recommended to me for this type of thing and you will straighten out or else…. I leave.”

Mr. Bartlett…Mr. Bartlett! If you are through with your daydream we can go on. “Yes, Doctor Argenta, you are right. Do you want me to lie down on the couch? Finger to the corner of her glasses, eyebrows raised and lips slightly puckered as if thinking, she began her orientation. She told me she had a different approach to treating men with “my particular kind of problem,” a three-pronged approach and she wanted to begin right way. "Since I am a woman and that it is inevitable you will find me attractive at times during these intimate sessions, I am concerned about your being... distracted. Sooo, I have decided that it is important to our progress that I know when you are ...distracted.” She paused on the word. I lowered my eyes to avert her stare but now they were taken to the sight of her crossed, nylon-clad legs and the exquisite heels she was wearing. Her skirt had ridden higher up her thighs revealing a hint of the decorative pattern at the top of her stockings. Her ankles were thin and articulated and those feet, to see them, to hold them, to be able to lick and suck on each toe...but that would never happen. I missed a sentence or two but the next line startled me. "Please undress down to your underwear, Mr. Bartlett." I tried to speak but nothing came out. "I have found that with certain patients it is best to conduct their sessions in this manner. It allows me to...monitor there reactions to things in a ...(was that a completely professional smile?)...more direct way. They can’t hide their feelings from me. I stared at her, realizing my mouth was open. "...And with my male patients it is particularly important to know when they become...excited or ...aroused ...(the eyebrows again)...by our work.”

I sat motionless trying to decide if this was real. "Mr. Bartlett, if you are not comfortable with my methods please see my receptionist, Ulla. She will refer you to another therapist with whom I am sure you will be able to work. On the other hand..." she separated her steepled hands and gestured towards the couch. "Oh come now, if it is any comfort to you...Ulla, is in the next room. You will be assured your privacy, Mr. Bartlett, and know that you are entrusting your care to a trained specialist and her clinical assistant." I had forgotten about her receptionist. She was also beautiful but with dark hair and a much softer look. But the thought of another tall sultry temptress near by didn’t help to ease the situation at all.

She looked down at her notes, seeming to give me a moment of privacy and signaling that she was done coaxing me--it was my move. I removed my tie and shirt, draped them over the chair and slipped off my shoes. But she was looking back now as I undid my belt. She held my eyes as I lowered my pants to the floor and stepped out of them. I draped them over the chair and looked up slowly in my embarrassment. "How lovely, did you wear those Victoria's Secret panties because you knew you were coming to see me today Mr. Bartlett?" After a long pause I whispered, “Yes, Doctor, I did,” She let me sizzle a moment longer before speaking, "I see. Maybe you should remove those argyle socks Mr. Bartlett; they really do not go with your outfit, and lie down on the couch so we can begin."

I lay on the couch and Doctor Argenta led me through the stories of my escapades taking notes about people, places and details. She was not surprised by anything I said. I, on the other hand, was becoming more uncomfortable about the whole thing. I Knew annalists, in these situations, frowned on overly graphic accounts and arousing descriptions. Dr. Argenta delighted in the details. Her questions and remarks didn’t seem professional but I was so aroused at being nearly naked in front of her I couldn’t stop. She also seemed to enjoy the edge she had brought me to, alternately flirting and taunting me. “Hmmm, you seem to enjoy talking to me about all this, Mr. Bartlett. Does it excite you to expose your little stiff penis in front of me—to feel it get hard as I watch? Well does it, Mr. Bartlett?” When my cock had grown to full erection she stood up and hit the intercom. “Ulla, could you please come in and bring the sample kit with you.” I started to sit up but she lifted her leg and brought her foot slowly but firmly down on my chest skewering me to the couch on the four and a half-inch heel of her shoe. I yelped as Ulla had entered carrying a small tray. She had changed into a slim stylish baby blue lab coat. “Mr. Bartlett, is aroused enough now to take a few samples.” “Samples!” I stammered, “What samples? “You will need to give us a saliva sample and produce a sperm sample.” She looked at Ulla and added, “Ulla, since we are doing it why don’t you take a rectal swab as well. I will be back in a moment.

My terror and excitement were evident in the raging erection that was barely contained by my little purple panties. Ulla stood over me, so close I could taste her perfume and conspiratorially whispered, “Just relax Mr. Bartlett, You are in good hands.” She produced a pair of bandage scissors and began cutting the panties away from my body. When she was done she said in a mocking tone, “now lets see what we can do with this.” She turned to her tray and I heard the unmistakable snap of latex gloves. “You will need to stay aroused for the doctor. She wants you to be in the most complete state of erection for stage two of your therapy.” She held my penis between thumb and forefinger and began to move it around as if examining it. Slowly the turning this way and that became a slow up and down movement. She looked into my eyes as she increased her pressure and the force of her movements. I thought I saw a hint of a sneer but her words were soft and cooing, “there, there, that’s a boy. Yes, lets see how hard you can get. But don’t you dare cum on me. The Doctor would not like that one little bit.”

Just as I was about to cum the door opened and Doctor Argenta came into the room. She had changed from her business suit and was now dressed in what looked like an Armani designed black lab coat that buttoned all the way to the hem at mid-thigh. The neckline was opened to reveal the tops of her creamy breasts and a defined cleavage. She was wearing dark seemed stockings and high cut leather boots with even higher heels than the shoes she was wearing before. She was the icy bitch doctor now with hair swept back and tied so tightly that I could imagine her clitoris beginning to protrude.

The Doctor spoke, “Ulla, this naughty boy likes to expose himself to women. He likes to be the bad boy and seems to think he can do what he wants without ever paying the consequences. Maybe it would make more sense to have Mr. Bartlett produce his sperm sample himself. He would probably enjoy the opportunity to dance for us. Wouldn’t you Mr. Bartlett? Why don’t you stand up on the coffee table and show us what little Mister Winky has up his sleeve.” “Mister Winky! The words rang in the back of my head. They both sat down and I stood up on the big coffee table trying to cover my nakedness with my hands. “Mr. Bartlett, you know you want to be lude for us? Come on now show us what a big boy can do.” I grasped my dick in both hands and began to pump my dick for their amusement. I increased the speed and force of my strokes to the tempo of their taunts and humiliation. That a boy! Ulla, do you see the way he is thrusting his pelvis and even standing on his toes now? “Yes Doctor Argenta, and the way he is sucking in his tummy and the veins in his neck are standing out.” Just as I was about to let go Dr. Argenta spoke, “Stop him now, Olga!” Olga, ready for the command, slapped my penis sharply with her hand and snapped an elastic cock ring around my cock and scrotum. The effect was an instant relaxing of my erection and orgasm and the beginning of an ache deep in my center of my groin.

“You see Mr. Bartlett, the course of my therapy,” the Doctor said, “is varied. You will not be allowed to orgasm that easily. Prepare him for the rectal swab, Olga.” Olga grasped me by my rubbery red penis and pulled me to my hands and knees in a minute. “Spread your knees apart, Mr. Bartlett. This wont be too bad.” She clipped clothespins to my nipples with little steel weights on them and set them moving. Doctor Argenta then spoke, “Just a minite Olga, this might be a good time to shift to phase three of Mr. Bartlett’s therapy.” I asked the question with my eyes. “Why…Group therapy Mr. Bartlett, that’s the next step.” Ulla went to the office door and said, “You can come in now.” Patricia, my neighbor walked into the office followed by my wife, both dressed in sexy blue lab coats like Ulla’s. “Good afternoon Ladies,” the doctor said.

They came in and all began to speak over my feeble protests. Melanie stepped in front of me and explained the situation. “Gill Bartlett, you little fucking worm! Did you think you were going to get away with your little indiscretions un-scathed? Patricia came to me with her suspicions weeks ago and I watched you sneaking over to her bedroom every time after that. It was only a matter of simple planning to catch you with your pants Bill Clinton style around your ankles. Doctor Argenta and her assistant, Ulla are good friends of Patricia’s who know how pathetic little men like you need to be handled. From there it was simple to maneuver you into this office. And now that we have you here it’s payback time. And in case you have any thoughts of escaping, Patricia is ready to call detective Snouwzer downtown. He’s dying to pin the East Side peeping tom cases on someone and you, with all the details you gave the good doctor and the pictures I took of you that night in the spotlight of my high beams, would be a great candidate for that honor. If you do not cooperate with us—and that means in every way—you’ll find yourself in the weight room at the county lockup tied to the bench with a line-up of the inmates packing your butt with their own brand of buckshot.

I was caught in their trap. “Ulla,” Dr. Argenta said, “ maybe Patricia would like to take that rectal swab.” “Yes I certainly would now that I see he’s in the position but I brought my own equipment.” I looked back and saw she had opened and dropped her lab coat to the floor. She was naked and strapping the oversized instrument I had seen her with in her room to her pelvis. She sidled up behind me and gently put her hands on the globes of my ass. “I have been waiting for this night with you, Gill Bartlett, ever since we hatched this plan, though I have to say I didn’t think you would be such a gullible little girly.” Olga held the shaft of the instrument as Patricia bumped it up against my little puckered orifice, now tightened in my terror. Without any lubricant other than a big gob of spit, she pushed it past the grip of my anus and began to work it into me in little back and forth incriments. All the while my wife stood in front of me mocking me with her words and her laugh. She wasn’t angry; in fact she seemed aroused and excited. Ulla then tested the condition of my aching balls. Seeing they were full and purple from the elastic band she removed it and held a receptacle under me. Melanie lifted her lab coat and bent over in front of my face. She pushed back screwing my nose into her ass just as Patricia slid her probe to its full depth in mine. They pulsed back in forth in slow synchronization. My lack of breath; the pounding in my ass; Ulla’s tight grip on Little Mister Winky, who was putting up a valiant effort; and the pain of the weights swinging from my nipples by the motion of the piggyback fucking was all I could stand. I exploded into Ulla’s cup and collapsed onto the coffee table. The woman hooted and Patricia and Ulla even did a high five. It was Dr. Argenta who surprised me with her softness, “Ladies, that is enough for now. Let’s let Gill rest while Ulla makes drinks. This is my last appointment of the week, so the long weekend ahead should give us plenty of time to help Gill with his little behavior problems. By Monday I am sure he will be an obedient husband to you Melanie and an obliging neighbor for you Patricia…and, of course he will have to continue with his therapy with Ulla and me.

L O Reins

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