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He makes a note. “And how did that go once he obviously returned, since he’s sitting here now?” He points to me with the back end of his pen.

She squeezes my hand. “He immediately recognized what was happening and gave me physical and mental reassurance that he will always come back.”

Dr. Walker gives me an approving look before explaining, “Nathaniel, it’s important to know that communication will be extremely imperative when getting involved with someone with Evelyn’s type of anxiety. Communication is always important in a romantic relationship, of course, but even more so when entering a D/s partnership, and exponentially more when it comes to a person with special needs. Because of the loss of her parents at such an impressionable age, she has abandonment issues we’ve spent years working through.”

I bring her hand up to my lips, kissing her knuckles, an almost unconscious action, and I don’t know if I do it to comfort her or to reassure myself that she’s okay.

“I’m willing to learn everything I need in order to be worthy of her, whether it’s as her Dom or as a regular ol’ relationship,” I say, looking over at her and giving her a smile. Her face goes soft, and she scoots a little closer to me.

“That’s great to hear.” He gives us a small smile then looks down at his notes. “Okay, let’s get back to you, shall we, Nathaniel?”

“Nate’s fine, Dr. Walker,” I reply, and he looks up at me, seeming to assess me then glancing down at where Evie clutches my bicep with her hand I’m not holding. He seems to make a decision, and then gives me a nod.

“You can call me Doc as well,” he says, and as simple as the exchange would seem to anyone hearing it from the outside, it feels like I just passed a test of some kind, like I’m being welcomed into something… monumental. Evie must understand what I’m feeling, because she rubs my bicep and gives me a great big smile.

“So now that I have a handle on your OCD symptoms, can you tell me what the effects of past therapies had?” Doc prompts.

“Uh, yeah.” I clear my throat. “Well, as far as the psychiatrists went, medications were a no-go. SSRIs and antidepressants made me a zombie, anxiolytics made me not want to get out of bed. As far as other treatments, support groups really weren’t my thing, aversion therapy made me want to get violent, psychoeducation taught me everything about my disorder but did nothing to treat it, and the list goes on.”

“Did anyone try systematic desensitization?” Doc asks, and I go to answer, but Evie interrupts.

“Could you explain that one please? It’s the only one I’ve never heard of.”

“It’s a form of exposure therapy. It’s the process of slowly increasing the sufferer’s exposure to their phobias in the hopes that they’ll… basically get used to it and not be afraid of it any longer.”

“How is that different from aversion therapy?”

“Aversion involves using a painful stimulus to prevent the OCD behavior,” I tell her, “at least the version they used on me.”

She blinks, searching my face, looking me over as if to see if there were any scars left behind. The look in her eyes does that funny thing to my heart again, making me feel protected and cared for by this tiny woman, when it’s me who wants to be the one to protect and care for her.

“I’m okay, baby,” I murmur, feeling the need to reassure her, and her face relaxes a bit, although her mouth still turns down in a little frown that makes me pull her to me and kiss it away, our audience be damned.

When I set her back on her cushion and look up at Doc, he’s watching me with an almost amused look on his face. He seems to nod to himself, makes a note, and then before he can say what he opens his mouth to reveal, Evie cries out, “Wait!”

“Yes, Evelyn?” Doc chuckles.

“Sorry, um…” She fidgets with her glasses. “It’s just… systematic desensitization. I think… I think we unknowingly might’ve done that. And I think it worked, even if it was only for a little while.”

“How do you mean?” Doc prompts.

She gives me an apologetic look and then turns to face Doc when she explains, “Our first time together, he ummm… he knew I’m a submissive, and I allowed him to uh… let his dominant side out for the first time.” She winces, looking like the emoji with all its teeth bared.

Doc stares at her a moment, his face blank before he sets his pen down. “Evelyn. You submitted to an untrained Dominant outside the club?”

She leans back a little on her cushion. “Yeeeaaahhh,” she says like a child admitting that she broke a window with her baseball.

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