Therapy Session

She plopped down on the bed, face down, letting it sink into the blanket. This was her usual position after a hard therapy session. All she wanted to do was lay in bed afterward.

At least this was her last week with her current therapist. The therapist was good enough, but they hadn't really clicked, so that made things just a little bit harder. Not bad enough to request a change of assignment, but she was thankful that the year was up. That was the nice thing about using the teaching clinic at the local university- a constantly rotating selection of future therapists. If she didn't like someone but was too embarrassed to change, they'd be out in a year. Plus, they were cheap, an added benefit given her crappy insurance.

She rolled onto her side and wiggled her way up to the head of the bed, slipping under the covers without ever getting up. She stripped off her jeans and T-shirt and reached for her worn-out pajamas that were hanging over a nearby chair. Now if she decided to say screw it, she was ready for sleep.

She flipped to her back, arm over her eyes, trying to soothe her aching brain. Maybe I should just go to sleep. It was the only thing that ever really seemed to help after therapy. She'd tried to distract herself with video games, tv, but her mind kept ruminating over the session and what was discussed. Which was probably the point, but she just didn't want to deal with it right now.

She reached over to turn off the bedside lamp, the living room serving as her master night light as light streamed in through the open door. Not enough to keep her up, but enough so that she could still see her surroundings in the middle of the night. It just creeped her out to wake up in a totally dark apartment, especially living alone. She had enough anxiety without wondering if there was something or someone she couldn't see in the corners.

Mind still running over what was discussed, she wasn't sure when she started to drift off, but she knew she had when something startled her awake.

She flipped off the sheets by her left arm. She could have sworn she just felt something touching her. She scanned her bed, looking under and over the sheets for some kind of bug, but she couldn't find anything. Probably just a stray piece of hair that rubbed her arm in her sleep, she reasoned. She settled back down, content that there was nothing else in the bed.

"Hmmm, skittish."

She started upright again. She scanned around the room but didn't see anyone there. She could have sworn she just heard a male voice, though. She reached for her phone in case she needed to call for help, but she felt pressure on her right wrist, forcing it onto the bed, being held down. But there was nothing there.

"Shhhhh, no need for that."

She felt as if someone was massaging her temples, gently stroking her forehead, trying to ease her back into a lying position. She didn't give in. "Who are you?" she shouted, still whipping her head to see all around her, and still seeing nothing.

"That's... a bit of a loaded question." A pause, and the sensations on her forehead started to recede. "Suffice it to say I work at the clinic."

Great, she had a stalker, and from a place she was going to for help, no less. She was still scanning all around her, and still didn't see anything, not even a shadow from the living room. "How did you get in here?"

"Strictly speaking... I'm not," the voice said. "Not wherever you are. Which I'm assuming is your home. Or-" Is it possible to hear a frown? "-someone else's house..."

She didn't say anything, still trying to process what the hell was happening right now.

"My apologies, I can only see what's immediately around you."

Cameras. She shifted her attention to the ceiling. She still didn't see anything, but she knew those things could be ridiculously small.

"You don't have to keep looking around, love. You're not going to find anything. Nothing to find."

He- whoever he was- seemed to figure out that she wasn't going to relent anytime soon, and gave a small sigh. "I'm here in your mind."

What?

"It's... a gift that I have." He said it in an almost embarrassed way.

She didn't know how to process what on earth was going on here, and wasn't sure what to do next.

"What do you want?" she asked, afraid of the answer. "Why are you holding me down? How are you holding me down?"

She felt the pressure lessen on her wrist. "Apologies again, but usually calling the police because you're hearing voices is not the best look, love. Besides, your file indicated that you have some... submissive tendencies... so you could say that I was testing the waters."

"You read my file?" she asked incredulously. She thought that was supposed to be confidential to all but her current therapist and their supervisor, both of whom were women.

He started rattling off her name, date of birth, and all of the issues she'd been talking about since she came to the clinic, her face getting hotter with each one. "None of which are in my area of focus, which is an added benefit."

"Benefit of what?" she asked, teeth gritted.

"You're unlikely to be assigned to me in the next rotation."

"You're a student," she stated. Not a question, she was already dead sure of the answer.

"Graduate student," he corrected.

"Thank you for the clarification," she spat out. "Now go away." It felt absurd to say that to a disembodied voice.

There was a pause. "It says your last relationship ended three years ago," he said.

"I think you already covered that in my laundry list of problems."

"You live alone. Have a few friends you enjoy hanging out with, but usually refuse to because you're 'busy'."

She refused to respond to him again. This was pointless and insane, not to mention making her feel even crappier after an already hard day.

"I can help you."

Not the approach she expected. Although she supposed she should have.

"How?" she scoffed.

"I know you're stressed. You were... on observation today... and it was fairly apparent. You're also not known for having the best self-care practices. I can give you some of that stress relief you need, and you don't have to worry about anybody actually physically touching you. None of the concerns of having another person there, much less a stranger. It would all be in your mind."

She started to toy with the idea that she had actually lost her mind. Some imaginary voice pops into her head, knows everything about her, and wants to help her with her stress levels, which she had a pretty sure idea what he meant by that. She almost wanted to pinch herself to see if she really did fall asleep and this was some hyper-vivid dream, but she was afraid of having confirmation that it wasn't.

"However, if you're not actually at your home, if you already... have other plans..."

"No," she blurted out. "I'm- I'm at home. It's just me."

WHY? Why did I say that?! she screamed at herself. Though the reason came to her immediately. Because this can't actually be real. At this point, she was thoroughly convinced that this was either a dream or a stress-induced hallucination. And if her brain went through all the trouble to conjure up some mystery man, well, maybe she should let it.

"Let's say I'm game," she started. "How... What would I do?"

"Well," the voice said. She could almost hear him smirking, if, you know, a disembodied, made-up voice could smirk, she corrected herself. "I can work with it if you're awake, but it's honestly easier if you're asleep. Or at the very least in a relaxed mental state."

Yeah, sleep was NOT happening right now. "How relaxed are we talking?" she asked. "Little difficult to do when you're talking to nothing and somehow getting randomly restrained." He still hadn't answered how he was doing that.

"I can refrain from interfering until you're in the right mental state. And then I can, for lack of a better term, hold you there until you're ready to leave."

Normally, a description like that would terrify her, but she was fully invested in the "not real" narrative now, and it almost did seem like something her brain would cook up.

"Just do whatever normally helps you fall asleep, and... try to think about what you want... what would help you relax," the voice said.

She hesitantly lifted her arm to reach for her phone again, but nothing stopped her. She grabbed it and opened her usual white noise app, adjusted the volume, and set it back down. Still nothing, no voice, no touch. She wondered if the hallucination had finally ended. Well, if it had, at least she could try to sleep this off.

While she was trying to quiet her thoughts, her mind wandered to the last thing the voice said. Think about what you want... what would help you relax.

What did she want? Honestly, to just fucking let go for even a few hours. To not have to worry about work, relationships, or just struggling to exist. Let someone else take the freaking reins and worry about things for a while.

Yeah, that sounded lovely. If only.

**********

She heard a chuckle next to her ear. No, not just heard, felt.

"Take the reins for a while, hmm?" the voice purred in her ear. "You have no idea how delicious that sounds."

She could feel breath next to her face. Someone was right there, she was sure of it this time. She sat up quickly, or at least tried to. She was still lying down, on her back (hadn't she been sleeping on her side?). She tried experimentally moving her arms, legs, head, but nothing. Nothing moved. She was completely paralyzed, staring into blackness. Not even a dark apartment, just black everywhere her eyes scanned.

She started hyperventilating, a lot of anxiety and phobia bubbling to the surface. She felt hands touch her shoulders and slowly start rubbing up and down the tops of her arms.

"Shhhhhhh," the voice soothed. "I told you before, this is all in your mind."

"Why is everything dark?" she asked, her voice cracking as she spoke.

"Shit," he muttered. "You would perceive it that way." The voice sighed. "I promise this is not an existential threat or dark void or anything like that. It's just... a blank canvas, in all honesty. Usually if someone is dreaming, their brain will fill in the gaps. But with the effort to hold you here... I can't really help with that, unfortunately."

The hands continued to rub up and down her arms. She could see her body, see the hands intermittently, but nothing else.

"Hold me here?" she asked, voice still trembling.

"Yes, I told you I could hold you in this place if you could relax your mind enough-"

"Is that why I can't move?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

He paused, hands freezing in place. "No, that's unrelated. I only did this because of what you were... thinking about..."

Her brain wasn't working. She couldn't think of what to do, what to say.

"Do you want me to let you up?" he asked, voice neutral.

"Yes," she said. Almost instantly, she felt some kind of pressure evaporate off of her body. She immediately sat up and turned, legs swinging off of whatever she had been laying on, and saw... him.

If she hadn't been so terrified right now, he probably would have stopped her in her tracks. By all counts, he was her type, physically speaking. He looked roughly 6', brown hair, glasses (WHY did glasses turn her on?), wearing a button up shirt and slacks. Professional. Smart.

And staring at her.

She really wasn't sure what to say or do next. Her dream/hallucination theory was starting to develop cracks, and she didn't understand what was happening.

"Is that better?" he asked, still sounding neutral, though with some concern in his eyes.

She simply nodded.

"Maybe we need to start with something slower," he said, closing the short distance between them. He moved his hand around the back of her head and leaned in, mouth on hers. Damn, she knew it had been a while, but he felt so good. Mouth moving around hers, his tongue trying to find some entrance... She was still wondering, somewhere in the back of her head, whether this was real or not... Although right now she wasn't sure she still cared that much...

He pulled away. "You going to let me in?" he asked, voice lower now. "Or would you prefer my tongue elsewhere?" He dipped down to start kissing and licking her neck.

"Fuck," she breathed. Her pulse started accelerating. Her brain was going in about six different directions at once, from "What is happening" to "Shut the fuck up and enjoy this". His hands started putting pressure on her shoulders, pushing her back into laying down, but she couldn't let go. She was still on too high alert. "Please..." she whispered breathlessly, "I need to know what this is..."

"Do you?" he asked, nipping at her neck.

She pushed back against him, sitting fully upright again, and he took a step back. He studied her for a moment, then asked, "Do you want me to let you out of here?"

She looked at him, biting her lip. There was a growing part of her that did NOT want to leave whatever this was right now. If that was only a moment with his mouth... she glanced down at his hands... trying not to even consider other parts or she might explode...

"No," she finally said out loud. "I just..." She glanced around again. "I need to know-"

"You are 100% safe here," he replied, as if reading her mind (which, was he?). He took half a step closer, not touching her but his face was inches away from hers. "This is entirely in your mind, the only thing affecting your body will be every sensation that you feel." He ran his fingers lightly up her arm and she shivered in response. "Your brain will think that every touch is real and process it that way, but beyond that nothing will happen to your body. This is your safe space to experience and explore anything you want, and I do mean anything," he said hungrily. "I can bring your wildest inclinations to life, make your brain see what I want you to see. Anything you've ever fantasized about experiencing."

For some reason she didn't understand, only one thing was dominating her thoughts now.

"Why me?" she asked.

He brought his lips infinitesimally closer to her ear. "Because I first saw you in the clinic two weeks ago, and I have not stopped thinking about you since."

The hunger in his voice was heady. He waited there, inches from her face, staring at her, his fingertips starting to lightly trace up and down her arms again.

"Do you want to continue?" he asked softly. "Or would you rather go back to being alone in your bedroom?" He squeezed her hips, and her breath caught.

"I... If it's safe... I-I'd like to try this..."

"Good," he purred, getting closer to her ear. "And do you want to continue with what you were thinking about?" One hand came up and started ghosting along her breast. "Do you want someone else to take the reins?"

She was starting to shiver. "Yes," she managed.

"Excellent." He pulled away from her with a wicked grin.

She felt herself forced back down onto the surface she had been sitting on, arms, legs, torso all pinned in place by some invisible force again. The only difference was that she could move her head freely now, could follow his movements as he started moving away from her, walking along her leg and leaving feather-light touches.

"Your safe word is red," he said, circling around her feet and starting to come back up the other side. "I don't recommend using it. There are a lot, and I do mean a lot," he bent down in front of her face, "of things I'd like to do to you, and I don't want us to cut ourselves short."

Her heart rate was picking up. He lifted one of her arms gently.

"Let's see what we're working with here."

He kissed the inside of her wrist, then started to thread her arm through the sleeve of her shirt. He pulled the sleeve up over her shoulder, exposing her breast. Then he walked around her head and started working on the other side, eventually pulling the shirt up over her head, off her entirely.

His face was darkly focused as he took one of her nipples into his mouth, rolling the other one between his fingers. Her breathing was becoming more ragged now, and she couldn't move- couldn't press into him or away from him, couldn't arch her back or hips. She was completely restrained and helpless to his movements.

He pulled his mouth away and started tracing both nipples with featherlight touches again, achingly teasing her. She needed more, she needed more pressure, or she was going to explode...

One hand touched through her pants, landing directly on her clit. She cried out in surprise, then started breathing harder as he rubbed her, putting more pressure on her nipple again with the other hand.

And then he stopped completely, stepping away and moving down to her thighs. She whined involuntarily, needing something, some kind of touch, anything...

"Let's see you, sweetheart," he murmured, grabbing the waistband of her pants and pulling them down over her legs. Now all that was left on was her underwear. She suddenly became very aware that her legs were being held down in a spread position. He traced along the leg holes where they met her pelvis, touching the very edges of her mound, before moving his hands up to the waistband and pulling them down.

He rested his head on her thigh. "Now," he said, running a finger up and down her slit, "my plaything is completely exposed." He continued to rest on her, lazily running a finger all around the outside of her pussy. She hissed, trying to keep herself breathing. She wanted to buck into his hand, twist, move, do anything.

He moved away again and up to her midsection, rubbing a hand over the top of her pelvis, making her clench in response.

"Hmmm, where do you need me the most right now?" he murmured to himself. He stepped next to her chest. "Or really, where do I want to be most right now?" He gripped both breasts in his hands. "These are very good contenders." He leaned down and started licking around the edge of one nipple, then looked up to meet her eyes.

"I wonder what would happen if I started playing with these and didn't stop?"

Suddenly, he started pinching her other nipple hard while he sucked the first one into his mouth. She could feel his teeth nipping at her, scraping along her together with the sucking, while he rolled the other one in a fast but steady rhythm. Her breathing was ragged, and she couldn't stop the moans from coming out of her.

It was building fast. "Please, please..." she muttered. It was too much, she needed some kind of release soon, to move, to explode...

He simply chuckled into her breast, giving her a wicked smile while he held her between his teeth, not stopping his hand. He seemed to be enjoying watching her unravel underneath him.

She was going into sensory overload; it was just too much. His mouth and hand were steady and relentless. "Please... I can't... I need to- I need-"

She moaned loudly as relief washed over her. He slowed down his pace, trying to match her as she came down. Then, when her breathing started to settle, he stopped and moved up to her face.

"My turn," he whispered in her ear.

She felt her head being raised, like being propped up on a couple of pillows. Then he moved down and swung a leg over, climbing on top of her torso. He knelt on top of her, and from this view she could see how hard he was through his pants. He reached down to unzip his fly and slowly pulled himself out, letting her take in his size before positioning himself in front of her face.

He bent over her. "You will swallow every drop," he said, licking up her jawbone to her temple. "Or I'll have to punish you."

Without waiting for any response, he straightened, gripped the sides of her head, and eased himself into her mouth.