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After my professor had let her lecture wind down, she’d called Dr. Sheppard and asked when he could talk to me. She might have been focused on the deadline that was rapidly closing in, but I had a feeling she thought I would probably chicken out if I waited too long.
She might have been right, but I didn’t take it personally. After hearing the different comments and problems other students were running into with their projects, I had a feeling she’d seen a lot of weirded-out students recently.
If she could send me to Dr. Sheppard right away, it would be one less panicked student for her to deal with.
Right away meant I was standing in front of a generic-looking office building not thirty minutes later. When I’d asked if she knew someone, I’d kind of thought I would have a couple of days to work up the nerve to ask my questions.
With no time to prepare, I just hoped that I would sound functional enough for him to feel comfortable asking one of his clients to talk to me. “Patients” was probably a better word, but it sounded… wrong.
Knowing I didn’t have much longer before I’d be late, I forced my feet to walk through the doors. Long before I was ready, I was standing in front of a woman who was clearly the receptionist.
“Um, I have an appointment with Dr. Sheppard. My professor just called. My name is Adrian.” Forcing the words out, I tried to appear calm and reasonable. From the little smile she gave me, I wasn’t so sure it was working.
“Dr. Sheppard will be with you in just a moment.” She glanced over at the chairs, a hint I could sit down probably, and I was inordinately glad she hadn’t added any small talk. I didn’t want to answer questions about school or the weather. There were too many things running around in my head for me to answer polite but unimportant questions.
Before I could turn and walk over to the chairs, or possibly just make a mad dash for the exit, a door opened, and three people walked out. The two younger guys shook, I was assuming, Dr. Sheppard’s hand and thanked him again for working everything out.
“I’m just glad you came to me. I know it would have worked out eventually, but I think it was easier for everyone that you didn’t try and handle it alone.” Dr. Sheppard gave them what seemed to be an understanding smile.
The shorter guy grinned. “Yeah, I’m not cut out for a life on the lam.” The taller one, who had an athletic look to him and seemed kind of familiar, just shook his head. “Because that was the only option. Come on.”
They tossed the doctor another goodbye as they walked out, and I was left wondering what Dr. Sheppard had helped them with and what sort of relationship they were in. I rationally knew that people in the lifestyle varied in age and in backgrounds. My research spelled that out very clearly. But seeing two guys around my age walking out made it sink in even more dramatically.
“Adrian?” The doctor gave me a concerned look.
“Yes. Thank you for seeing me.” I was going to have to attempt to look like a person with his shit together or the doctor was never going to let me talk to someone he knew.
“I’m always glad to help Professor Hays. I’ve enjoyed speaking with her classes.” He stepped back and gestured to the open door. “Why don’t you come in so we can talk? I understand you’re doing a research project on the fetish community.”
Tripping over my own feet did nothing to help my desire to look functional. Dr. Sheppard’s expression changed subtly, and his whole demeanor softened. One moment I was looking at someone who could have easily been another professor. The next, it was like something changed, something subtle. I wasn’t sure I could describe it, but it made the tension inside of me fade.
“Have a seat, Adrian. I’m happy you came to talk to me.” He took a chair across from me as I sat down.
I couldn’t help but look around the room, which was a warm space that was obviously his office. The large desk and volumes of books gave that away, but the chairs scattered around the room and little touches my mother would have said were “homey,” it made it feel more like a living room than a doctor’s office.
“Um, thank you for seeing me.” There was a short pause, and I was compelled to fill the silence. “I’m researching puppy play for my final project.”
He smiled like he understood and leaned back in his chair. “What do you think of puppy play?”
It wasn’t the question I was expecting him to ask, so it took me a second to process it. I probably should’ve taken longer. “It’s relaxing.”
Yup, should have taken longer.
I knew as soon as the words came out of my mouth that my response wasn’t that of someone who was just researching it. There was no way to pull the words back though, so I just prayed he wouldn’t think it was a weird response.
Dr. Sheppard just gave a little half-shrug of acknowledgment and continued on, like I hadn’t said something completely insane, “I can understand that. Many people involved in that lifestyle say very similar things. There are a variety of different preferences and fetishes that all boil down to different ways of being able to relax and turn everything else off.”
I nodded slowly and tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t be blurting out the truth. “I looked at a variety of fetishes and lifestyles before I settled on puppy play.” Dr. Sheppard looked at me like I’d said something interesting. “How did you settle on puppy play for your… project?”
The short pause wasn’t the same confusing, mocking tone Owen used, but it had a similar feel to it.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. “I started looking through lists of topics and browsing through information that was available online, and I found puppy play… interesting.”
“Sometimes we’re just drawn to things.” His voice was warm and understanding, and I wasn’t sure what it meant. Did he understand what I was going through? “We don’t always have to know why something pulls at us.”
I nodded slowly again. This wasn’t the way I’d expected the conversation to go. “I’ve been trying to understand it so I can write a better paper.”
“Explaining it to people and understanding why we’re drawn to different lifestyles aren’t the same thing though.” Dr. Sheppard cocked his head and waited a moment. When I didn’t respond, he kept going. “If you’re simply trying to write a paper with firsthand examples of individuals in the lifestyle, I have several friends who may be willing to speak with you.”
