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“You think he would have let me down, but instead, he began to beat me, systematically, methodically.” Shelby could feel her body heat starting to rise as the memory returned.
“How did that feel to you?”
Shelby stared at her, eyes wide as the full moon. “I starting shaking, orgasming almost as soon as his baton hit dead center on my crotch. I must have repressed my desire, and he shook it loose. Before I stopped coming, he was pouring lubricant down my anal crack, then plunging himself into me. My spasming brought on his climax.”
As if she’d run out of breath, Shelby suddenly stopped talking. She took a deep breath, then cocked her head and looked the therapist straight in the eye, speaking quietly, “For the first time since I left Clive, I felt right inside my body. I knew I had to keep coming back for more. Even the strain of the bondage didn’t matter. Even the fact that I had to work hard to get the reward I wanted seemed right too. Mr. Darcy made me work for every bit of pleasure, and Greystoke demanded the same.”
“What was Mr. Greystoke like?” the doctor asked.
“Handsome. Older. But not as old as Clive and he was truly handsome. Dark skin, dark hair, sophistication oozing from every pore, and such a polished way about him. He had a critical eye he would train on me in a demeaning way. Never, not even once did he praise me, although I sought his praise. Just once, I wanted him to tell me that I’d done my duty well.”
“And he never did?”
“No.” She shook her head, adamant about th
is fact.
“What else did you feel for him?” The question seemed purposeful with the doctor’s unwavering eyes bearing down on her.
Shelby’s eyes burned with tears. “I loved him.” Her entire body was shaking, her eyes darting fearfully around the room. Unwittingly, she tucked her feet up next to her bottom, in nearly fetal position with her arms clasped around her knees, hanging on for dear life.
“How did you know that?”
“My heart started to beat so strangely. He was all I could think of morning and night. I was fixated on him, lusting for him. He tied me up every time I went to his house for a session. The bondage became more and more intricate, more confining and extreme, and I began to yearn for the tight feel of his ropes. I could feel my body giving way to him, knowing that if I just let go and did everything he wished, he would love me too.”
“And did he? Did he love you too?”
“No.” Her voice turned hard and bitter. “Not that I could ever tell. But I kept trying to win his approval. He fisted my pussy once. I was suspended, and he held my swinging body against his while he worked his fingers into my cunt. My pussy was so small, his hand so large that it seemed impossible. But I willed his hand inside me. I worked with all my might to let go and allow him in. I thought that maybe this would make him love me – or at least show me some affection.
“But he was utterly cold—” She left off there and in the quiet that followed she let her own words sink in.
“So, you were in love with a man who could not reciprocate your love.”
“That’s it. I feel like such a fool for trying.”
“Did you feel like a fool then?”
“No, I was too naïve to imagine that possibility. Men are like that, withholding of their love until I proved myself to them. That was what Mr. Darcy made me believe, Greystoke was no different.”
“You believe all men are like that, Shelby?” the doctor asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” she answered.
“We’ll take this up in your next session. I assume you’re coming back. I certainly think you should.”
There was no doubt in Shelby’s mind that she would be back.
After she left Dr. Ramsey’s office, Shelby walked the downtown streets, gazing absently in store windows and listening to the cars screech about the city. It was a warm evening, but she was utterly cold, as if she stepped into the middle of winter, into a raging snowstorm. She understood that something was closing down inside her; if she didn’t keep her heart pried open it would shut down forever.
Chapter Twelve
Session Two
“…Mr. Darcy insisted that I come see him after my first session with Greystoke, then after every session that followed. Debriefing, he called it. I’d told him on the phone that there was nothing to tell him… no pertinent tidbits. I had no liberty when I was suspended, there were no conversations to overhear. But of course I went to Mr. Darcy’s office as he ordered. Like maybe my brain was still hardwired to respond to his demands. I silently, fumed when he ordered me to remove my clothes.
“‘I put you in the man’s hands, Shelby,’ he explained ‘which makes me responsible. I need to inspect your wounds.’
“So, I removed my clothes and stood naked for him, while he inspected my body with a cold stare. He grilled me about the session with Greystoke. What kinds of things was I made to suffer? Could I take the bondage and the beating? Of course, I could. He’d trained me for nearly five years, what did he expect? There was nothing that Greystoke did that Mr. Darcy hadn’t already done to me and I’m sure he knew that. But he said that he didn’t trust the man and wanted no harm to come to me.”
