Transference Ch. 01

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A veteran therapist meets his match in a tale of seduction.
2.7k words
4.33
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 03/07/2024
Created 04/03/2017
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Session 1

There are times when restraint is helpful and necessary. And then, there are the infrequent times when wadding up that giant ball of self-control and tossing it out of the window is the one thing that might allow us to make it through the next twenty or thirty years with some measure of sanity. This story is about one of those times. Which one, you may ask? Honestly, I haven't decided yet. But it's a tale worth telling, nonetheless.

In my long career as a psychotherapist, I've had my share of exciting situations. After working in nearly every conceivable environment, from hospital to drug rehab to in-home therapy, the chances of running into interesting situations increases every day. It's part of what keeps me in the job. It sure ain't the money. I once had a guy swear up and down that his name was not Frank Woodman, but instead was Joseph Billingsly, even though his hospital transfer paperwork indicated clearly that he was "Frank Woodman." He became so upset and angry that the doctor gave him a tranquilizer and carted him off to his room on the locked unit while slapping a delusional disorder diagnosis on him and placing him on a 72 hour hold. Turns out he really was Joseph Billingsly and the hospital had sent over the wrong guy. We got a kick out of telling that story for months. Then there was the drunk guy that walked into a client's home while I'm conducting a session and fell asleep on their sofa. Yeah, he didn't live there - just some guy from the neighborhood. Needless to say, I've seen some shit.

Among all the many fascinating things about the practice of psychology, there's the mysterious concept known as "transference." Every therapist experiences it, whether they address it or not. In simple terms, transference occurs when a client begins to "transfer" their feelings about someone or something in their past onto the therapist. Probably the most commonly discussed form of this is when a client begins to feel emotional or sexual attraction toward the therapist. Clients will express this in many ways. I had one client that began to wear blouses that grew tighter and lower cut every session over the course of several weeks. The later tops barely contained her shapely breasts. It took every ounce of willpower I had to maintain eye contact throughout our hour long sessions.

Then there was the one that drove drunk to my office late at night, wearing a form-fitting dress, to express how much she loved me. Somewhere along the way from her home to my office, she must have struck something with her car, because her airbags had been inflated and she had to climb over the center console and exit the car from the passenger side, all the while showing me her glistening goods between her legs. Luckily for me, I'm not aroused by drunk women, so I let her sleep it off for a few hours in my waiting room and sent her home safely later that evening. And I'll never forget the one time where a client manufactured a "crisis" in order to get me to come to her home and attempt to seduce me. The look of hunger in her eyes as she stared at my crotch when I told her to "sit wherever you'd like" followed by a deep moan will be enough to keep me thinking about what "might have been" for many years to come. But here's the thing about transference: it's not really about therapist. It can happen to anyone, good looking or plain. Fat or skinny. Young or old.

At the end of the day, the client is only attracted to this IDEA of who you are, not really to who you actually are. I'm not an ugly guy by any stretch, but I'm also not naturally attractive. I'm a 6 that punches above his weight class due to a sense of humor and being something of a mystery and confident with women. I'm getting up there in years and my hair is graying, but still mostly there, at least. I don't work out much, but good genetics and a healthy diet allow me to maintain a pleasant physique, especially for my age. The drunk driving client used to tell me repeatedly that I have "the most amazing ass." Also, I'm very happily married to an amazing, sexy lady, which tends to discourage people from truly expressing what they are feeling toward me. Most people, at least.

Then there's Gina. I had spoken to Gina on the phone to schedule our first session and thought she sounded cute, but then again that happens often enough that I've started to take how a person sounds on the phone with a big grain of salt. The reality is often nowhere near what you imagine. What I saw when she came in the door caused me to do a double-take. Gina was wearing a pair of skin-tight charcoal leggings that accentuated her best feature: a perfectly shaped ass to die for. Honestly, I had no idea what was going on above the waist and below the neck, because I was mesmerized by her rear end. She had just-past shoulder length blonde hair. REAL blonde hair. Not the bleached type that has subtle shades of other colors. Just full, natural, pretty blonde hair. She was pretty in a "I'd really like to get to know her better" kind of way. Not jaw-droppingly beautiful, but pretty enough that she could probably have her way with just about any man that she wanted. Except me. There's rules against that, you know. I introduced myself and walked her through the paperwork packet and left her in the waiting area to verify her insurance and input her into the computer system. Every couple minutes, I would peek out of the blinds on the windows in my double office doors, to check on her progress with the paperwork. I couldn't wait to get her alone in my office to get to know her better.

After about 15 minutes or so, she appeared to be done with completing the intake forms, so I walked back out and said, "Hi Gina, are you all set?"

"Yes. I wasn't sure about a couple of these questions, though."

"Not a problem. Why don't you come on back and we can go over them together?" I suggested.

Gina's intake started off in much the same way as most. We chit-chatted about the weather and if she had been able to find the office okay. I usually begin first sessions by asking clients if they have any questions for me. Gina smiled and shyly asked, "I dunno... maybe tell me a little about yourself?"

"What would you like to know?" I asked.

"You know, like how long you've been doing this, why do you do this job, that kind of thing...?"

"I've been a therapist since the early 90's when I graduated from my Master's program."

"Oh. You don't look that old," Gina said, while trying to appear to divert her eyes and simultaneously looking at me to gauge my reactions to her compliment.

"Thanks. It's always nice to hear that," I said.

"How about your sign?" she asked with eyebrows raised.

"You mean like my astrological sign?"

She nodded.

"Hmm... haven't really thought about that in years. I'm a Pisces."

"Ohhhh. Deep and thoughtful." She sighed.

"I suppose that's pretty accurate," I replied, not really wanted to get into the whole argument about how big a leap it is to assume that a therapist is going to be a 'deep and thoughtful' person, regardless of their astrological sign.

Intake sessions can feel pretty rushed, since we have to gather a bunch of information in a relatively short time frame, so I was looking to get things rolling, "How about you? Tell me a little about yourself."

Gina shifted nervously in the sofa seat and said, "I'm a mess. I can't focus at school and I'm constantly feeling overwhelmed."

"Ouch. That's sounds awful. So you're in college?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm a senior at the community college."

"Cool. Any plans once school's done?"

At this point, Gina laid out a detailed plan for what she wanted to do after graduation that included doing some acting as well as growing her own web-based business. She had obviously put a great deal of thought into the plans. She started to sound like things were actually going fairly smoothly and I began to wonder if she might be blowing some of the usual stresses of school out-of-proportion. "Could you maybe talk to me about your reasons for seeking out therapy, Gina?"

"I just can't focus. I get so scattered when I try and sit down and do any homework or studying. I'm finding myself avoiding going out and hiding in my apartment because I get so stressed when I go out."

I wanted to see if this was a new symptom or something she's dealt with for a while. "So how long's this been going on?" I inquired.

"Forever, but it's gotten worse in the past year or so."

Gina and I went into more detail about what she had been experiencing. We talked about her recent relationship troubles, her grades, her family back home, work, et cetera. The basics. Then I realized I had neglected to ask a very important question:

"So Gina, in those times when you find yourself unable to focus on school, what do you focus on instead?"

At this question, Gina shifted in her seat slightly. Not sideways. Not backwards. Forwards. Gina leaned in and said the word that would become commonplace in our vocabulary over the coming weeks.

"Sex."

I've been doing this long enough that talking about sex is about as exciting as talking about what I had for breakfast this morning, but there was something to her presentation that suddenly intrigued me unlike any client before. I've had my share of sex talks with countless attractive women. Masturbation, orgasms, oral, anal, you name it. It all gets talked about at some point if you do this long enough. I'd be lying if said I'd never gotten aroused from discussing the sex lives of my clients. That's happened plenty of times as well. But you enjoy the moment and move on.

Something about the way she said the word led me to believe that just "moving on" was going to be tough here. This girl was dangerous.

We began to discuss some of her sexual history and some of her present sexual activity. Gina didn't just enjoy sex. She had to have it. She oozed sex in every aspect of her life. Gina would regularly meet a guy and within minutes have his cock in her mouth. Gina was sex. I was beginning to think that it might simply be impossible for Gina to have a strictly Platonic relationship with a man. Even family members were fair game for Gina's intentions: at one point during the first session I asked a standard question that got the most non-standard answer I've ever gotten during an intake interview.

"So Gina, is there anything that we haven't talked about that you think would be important?"

There was no hesitation, no apparent shame or shyness. She just jumped right into it:

"How do you feel about incest?"

Frankly, the question took me aback. Twenty plus years doing this and no one has ever asked that question in the same way she asked it, much less in the first session. Fortunately, I've had a couple decades of practice hiding my shock and was able to somehow respond with a standard therapist non-response response.

"I'm not sure what you mean by 'how do I feel about it." Whew. Nice dodge.

"Like do you think it's right or wrong?" She's direct and to-the-point. I'll give her that.

Okay, I've got a good therapeutic answer for that one. I put on my non-judgmental hat and replied, "I'm not sure I would be comfortable putting a label like 'right' or 'wrong' on feelings about something. Feelings are what they are."

"I'm so glad to hear you say that. I have been thinking about having sex with my brother."

Instantly, I felt a twinge in my pants. It wasn't the idea of incest, although that's been an area of fantasy for me that I will dabble into in my fantasy life on occasion. It wasn't the idea of Gina having sex. We'd been talking about that and I'd been picturing that for the past ten to fifteen minutes. The thing that made my cock jump was the sheer "taboo" nature of what Gina was telling me just an hour after we had met for the first time.

Trouble. This girl is trouble.

Turns out that Gina and her 20-year-old step-brother have already dabbled in sexual activity in the past couple months when she went home for the holidays recently, although they hadn't 'gone all the way'. Thankfully, she didn't go into too much detail, because I don't know if my pants would have contained much more of an erection than I was already sporting.

Once she had gotten her story out, she appeared to feel so satisfied with herself that she sat back on the sofa, nodded her head, and breathed a deep sigh of relief. Over the past several years, one of the most important things I've learned about therapy is that if you are wondering about something, it's probably likely to become a therapeutic issue for your client. The sooner you can get those things out on the table, the better. Gina certainly seemed to believe in brutal honesty, so I was going to offer the same respect back. I was starting to have some real concerns that Gina would be highly likely to experience erotic transference and may have intentionally sought out a male therapist in order to experience that response. She had already talked about the typical guys that she was attracted to and I checked off every item on her list. She liked older men. She saw her male peers as immature boys. She was drawn to people in authority. Professors, policemen, older coworkers, supervisors and bosses were the men that got her wet. Most importantly, she went after men that appeared, at least on the surface, as unattainable. If he was married or in a relationship or was somehow not supposed to be in a relationship with her, the more likely it was that she would pursue him. Men became challenges, like videogame achievements. Once she had accomplished each goal, it was time to move on to the next one.

"Gina, have you ever had a male therapist before?"

"Oh yes. My all-time favorite therapist was my counselor back in high school." As Gina started to talk to me about their relationship and how helpful he was, she appeared to be putting some pieces together in her mind and quickly to reach the desired conclusion I was hoping she would. She was a smart one. "If you're worried that I'm going to try and sleep with you, don't be."

"To be honest, I was thinking that I appeared to match a lot of the traits that you seem to look for in the guys you pursue. What makes you say that I'll be off limits?" I was trying to keep the discussion as professional as possible, but sometimes there's fine line between confronting potential transference and getting too personal, and honestly treading into the discussion of transference at this very early stage of therapy is a bit off the beaten path, even for me.

"Because you're my therapist and I know that it would mess things up and this is something I really need to do to better myself," she said, almost as though she had rehearsed that line to herself ahead of time.

We'll see about that, I thought to myself. I'm about to wade right out into the middle of Shit Creek and I don't know what's out there, but sure as hell know it's above my head.

I couldn't help but steal another lingering glance at Gina's behind after wrapping things up and she walked from my office. I needed a cold shower and it was only 12:30 in the afternoon.

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trappedinthecl0settrappedinthecl0setalmost 2 years ago

I love this. I like how she doesn't go straight for the grand prize, but he knows there's the strong potential for trouble.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 7 years ago
Hot

I am a leg man and already imagining a potential Gina subtle leg and foot show in a future session.

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