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“’So this is the latest, Grey?’ she said, staring at me looking almost amused. ‘She’s actually pretty.’
“She moved into the room, those hot hips of her swaying, and stood right above where I was kneeling. Greystoke was done with me, his cock stuffed back inside his pants, and it was suddenly her hands in my hair, clutching it a little too vigorously to be incidental contact.”
“‘Maybe you’d like to see me use her, Jen?’ Greystoke said.
“‘Yes, I might actually like that,” she answered back. ‘And if you gave her to me, I might like that too.’
“‘You needn’t worry, she will be back soon,’ he said.
“The two were eyeing each other strangely. I couldn’t quite figure out what to make of them. Affection or something a little sinister between them…” I’d never felt so diminished, so degraded.” Shelby left off looking at Dr. Ramsey wonderingly.
“And how did you leave that session, Shelby?” Dr. Ramsey asked.
“I-I was so shaken that I practically ran to my car. I drove right to Mr. Darcy’s office and shook my clothes off in seconds. Mr. Darcy could see how upset I was. Suddenly, he was using me, no inspection, or questions. None of that. When he was finished, I told him that I’d met Mrs. Greystoke for the first time…
“‘Ah, Jenna,’ he said – like he was really fond of her. Nothing about this went down easy. I felt like a fool, that my entire world was playing games with me and I was just their pawn. There I was, clueless about what was going down and far too unsophisticated to ever understand.”
***
Shelby left the session and walked the streets again, working off her nervous energy while trying to understand how she felt about what was going on in her sessions with Dr. Ramsey. With no answers immediately on the horizon, she finally took a bus to the coffeehouse – her car had broken down. She donned her apron and began waiting on customers. But when she hardly cracked a smile after twenty minutes, the vigilant Maureen pulled her aside.
“I don’t know what’s going on for you, but you need to go home until you snap out of it.”
She didn’t argue with the woman.
Back home, she turned on the TV and found a series of Bette Davis movies featured on TNT. For the next six hours she submerged herself in the engaging dramas on the screen. These were far easier to deal with than her own drama, past or present.
Chapter Fourteen
Session Four…
“I forgot where I left off,” Shelby announced when she returned for her next weekly session. She’d gone directly to her perch on the cream-colored couch, just as usual, though she seemed a little discontented on this particular afternoon.
“I believe you left off where you first met Mrs. Greystoke.”
“Right, yes, I remember.” She clammed back up, and remained silent until the doctor spoke again.
“Would you prefer to talk about something other than Greystoke and his wife? This is your time, you can use it however you like.”
“I know that. It’s just felt good to tell it like a story in the order it happened. It makes it clear in my head.”
“Well then, lets start with a few details I’m missing. How long did you go to Mr. Greystoke for these bondage sessions?”
“About two years.”
“And how often were the sessions?”
“A week, sometimes two or three weeks apart. Greystoke always arranged the meetings through Mr. Darcy. He had no way of contacting me otherwise. I suppose if it had been a real affair, I might have given him my phone number or told him where I lived, but Clive gave me so many warnings about how dangerous the man was that I was too scared to give him any personal information. He never asked for it, so I suppose it was a moot point.”
“How would you describe your feelings about the sessions? Satisfied? Happy? Content? Needy?”
“Never happy, not ever happy,” she shook her head adamantly. “But at first, after the strangeness wore off…I suppose that took about a month or two…I was satisfied, even content. The routine was easy. Here was Mr. Darcy arranging my sex life again, giving me what I obviously needed in a way I could handle it. Of course, he didn’t think about my heart, about love and honest affection. He couldn’t be bothered about that for himself, so why would it be important to me?”
“But it was important. You did need love. You even sought it from a man who was colder and harder than the one you were trying to leave behind. You made it up in your imagination based on the tiniest traces of affection. Affection you knew was not real.”
“But I didn’t know anything else.”
“But I think you do now, don’t you?”
