|by Anne Woolsey|
|© Copyright 2011 - Anne Woolsey - Used by permission|
|Storycodes: F/f; capture; bond; gag; tease; toys; transport; cartrunk; mast; oral; climax; reluct/nc; X||
|The Therapist Anne Woolsey F/f; capture; bond; gag; tease; toys; transport; cartrunk; mast; oral; climax; reluct/nc; X|
I was depressed!
No energy, no interest in anything, no appetite, no nothing!
I knew why, but I couldn’t get myself out of the funk and back on track. I decided I had to see someone and talk it out. I’m not an outgoing, spill-my-guts kind of person. It would be hard for me to open up and I wasn’t sure I could tell everything anyway! If I was depressed now, imagine what would happen if I was arrested for the sins of my past!
I knew that a therapist had to disclose ‘threats of injury to another person’ in this particular state. That seemed to be the major sticking point for me. I couldn’t say that I kidnapped women for fun and profit; I could end up in the slammer! I didn’t know if that requirement applied to the past tense. Insurance companies were also a problem with confidentiality, but since I was going to be paying cash, snooping by an insurance company would not be an issue
I believed that the source of my funk was my own kidnapping by Kaitlynn Lee and, under my cursory and in-expert interpretation of the rules, the therapist might be required to report that as well.
Hmmm! I knew I could work around the harm-to-another- person thing by saying all my relationships were consensual. I would have to feel the therapist out as to how and whether my own trouble had to be reported. There were potential problems with this, but I was pretty sure I could work around them and still get some benefit and relief from the process. A lot depended on what the therapist’s ethical code required.
The only way to know was to try it out!
I figured picking a therapist at random was just as valid as doing research on one, so I went to the computer and selected one. I wanted a woman; that was my only criteria.
I settled on a woman named Catharine Black. She had a family practice in a neighboring suburb and seemed to have the credentials and experience to help me, at least that is what her website claimed.
I called her number and left a vague message about my issues and requesting an appointment. She called right back, which I liked, and we set up an appointment for the following Tuesday.
I arrived early by cab and paced back and forth in the lobby until it was time to go up. I was regretting my decision, but here I was so I might as well see it through.
I entered and sat in the waiting room; I was the only one there. The white noise machine barely covered the sound of voices coming from the closed door across the room. There were two other doors on either side of this door, which were also closed, but no sound emanated from them. I knew from the door name plate that there were three therapists in the office.
After a few minutes, the door opened and a middle-aged woman exited, head down, scurried across the waiting room, avoiding eye contact, and out the door. I sat for a few minutes longer until the office door opened and a woman, apparently Catharine Black, stepped out. She greeted me by name and invited me in to the inner sanctum.
She was younger than I thought she would be, maybe mid-thirties, and attractive, about 5 and a half feet tall in her heels, shapely and in shape.
She gestured me towards the sofa and took a seat in the wing chair opposite. She arranged herself on the seat, notebook in hand. I studied her as she flipped open the book and made a note.
She had an oblong face, unadorned with make-up, framed by shoulder length black hair with bangs that ended just above her eyebrows. Her nose was a tad crooked with a flat spot half way down and there were lines under and at the corners of her eyes, which lent an appealing lived-in look to her overall appearance. She had a small mouth, thin lips, with dimples when she smiled and almond shaped eyes that hinted at Asian ancestry somewhere in her background. She wore a black and white print dress over a black jersey which failed to hide her generous cleavage, black tights and knee-length heeled boots. She had a bracelet on her right wrist and a silver watch on her left wrist with a big black ring on the middle finger of her left hand. There was no wedding ring.
She introduced herself and then segued into the standard disclosure b.s. like confidentiality, rates, etc. I told her I was paying cash, so we dispensed with the insurance forms. She seemed pleased that I would be a cash customer.
She ran through that stuff in a pleasant manner and after about 10 minutes of this she focused in on me and asked why I was there.
I discussed in general how and what I was feeling. I skirted the truth, of course, and just said I had no energy or desire to pursue anything. She asked me what I did for work and, with a staged bit of hesitancy, I told her I was a dominatrix. I had decided beforehand that I would portray myself as a domme who had lost her mojo! It was close enough to the truth and I could avoid admitting any coercion or abuse by saying that the encounters were consensual. As to getting into the issues with Samantha and Kaitlynn, which I thought were the root of my problems, I would say that I had volunteered to be their subject.
She had no reaction that I could discern to my ‘occupation’, maintaining her game face, so I plunged on. I told her that, in the course of my work, I had allowed myself to be dominated, without revealing any of the details and since then had lost my desire to partake in any activity related to bdsm. I felt that being on the receiving end had given me an insight into being a sub that had made me regret the way I had treated my clients.
I thought I was pretty convincing, and in fact a lot of it was true. That I had been forced into the sub role didn’t change the fact that I had been overwhelmed with guilt. I believed that the guilt and remorse I felt were the driving force behind my depression. The specter of all those women I had mistreated and terrorized was weighing on me! Where it all would lead and whether I could maintain my lie would have to be seen; I did feel relief in just relating my slightly altered problem.
She asked what I hoped to achieve from our work together and I said I honestly didn’t know. I didn’t admit that I wanted to return to my faux work (read go back to kidnapping) without any residual guilt and I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted. As I talked I realized that the whole story I was presenting her was kind of thin. That my ‘victims’ came to me voluntarily was a major flaw in the credibility of my story. She didn’t seem to be stupid or lacking in perception, so the truth may have to come out. If that was the case, I would either have to invent another story or quit her.
The first session time passed quickly and we scheduled another. The second went well and we met once a week for several more weeks.
I began to get comfortable describing my feelings. She interjected comments and questions as I talked. Just the process of talking about it helped me. I tried to not give too much information while being open enough to get my very real issues out on the table. At several points she asked me to describe sessions with a clients and what I did and felt. I was able to adlib my way through those requests, describing what happened after I acquired a typical target, but leaving out the forcible kidnapping part.
She did not force the conversation and let me set the pace. I was also becoming very much aware of her attractiveness; that in itself was a bonus. I hadn’t had much interest in women, attractive or otherwise.
I looked forward to our sessions and paid close attention to what she wore and how she looked!
Immediately after we sat down and settled in for my fifth session, Catharine dropped a bomb on me.
She said that, after much thought and review of what I had been saying, she was having difficulty believing aspects of my tale of woe and admonished me to tell the truth or she wouldn’t be able to help me.
I played ‘mickey-the-dunce’ and asked her what she meant.
“Why do you feel guilty about what you do to your ‘clients’ if they come to you voluntarily?”
Oops! Cat out of the bag! Fortunately I had thought about this coming up (she was no dunce!) and had decided to just tell the truth. I had given her a false name and was paying cash. If I just disappeared there should be no way to trace me if she decided to drop a dime on me.
“Well, I am a domme, but…my ‘clients’ are not necessarily volunteers!” She sat up straighter at this statement.
“I kidnap them, take them by force and then, basically, use them… for sex and to satisfy my desire for putting women into bondage. I also photograph and videograph them and sell the images to a select list of people.”
She said nothing for almost a minute, staring down at her notebook.
“When we first met you do recall that I said I might have to reveal what we say here if someone is at risk?”
“I do and that’s why I was beating around the bush, so to speak. But a lot of what I have said is true and are my feelings.” I went on, leaning forward in my seat. “I have been ‘clean’ now for several months. There is no one that is in danger of being harmed. That’s the issue! I don’t want to do this anymore!”
“Is it that you don’t want to do it anymore or that you want me to help you get back into it?”
What did I want? That seemed to be the key question and I realized she had hit the nail on the head. I did want to get my mojo back. Damn, I picked a too smart therapist! Catharine continued after I didn’t respond to her question.
“I need to think about this and make a decision as to whether I have to report it. I’m sorry, but I may have no choice. Let’s get together on Friday; I have my last slot open at 5 and we can discuss how this will go. I can try and mitigate what I report, but…I just don’t know!”
I tried again to dissuade her from thinking that my past actions were reportable, but I didn’t think I had any real impact.
She stood and closed her notebook, extending her hand. I shook it and saw myself out, clearly having been dismissed.
On the cab ride back to where I was staying, I went over the conversation and concluded that she was going to blow the whistle. Even though I had protected my identity, it still pissed me off. The things she was worried about were in the past. There was no one that was in harm’s way now. Wasn’t there a statute of limitations on those kinds of things?
The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. And the angrier I got, the more I considered…wait a minute!
I realized I was thinking thoughts of retribution against Catharine, retribution in the form of kidnapping and bondage. There were no guilt feelings racking me, there was only a growing desire to have her and use her. I was actually trembling with excitement; I was back to what I used to feel when I was targeting someone in the past.
Well, how about that? Therapy does work!
Back at my place, I quickly assembled a taking kit. It felt good! I wouldn’t be able to do my usual research, but I knew enough about her to do the deed. I knew where she lived and that she lived alone in a single family house in a quiet neighborhood, without even a pet.
After our first meeting, I had looked into her a bit; she foolishly had her land line listed in the phone book, which gave me her address and I had followed her a few times just for old time’s sake. While I was doing it, I was disappointed that I just didn’t have that old time feeling so I stopped. Now the information I had casually gathered would be useful.
Friday was two days away and I decided to use it to get more information. I eagerly dove into it with my old energy and enthusiasm. I chased her on line. She had a Facebook page with lots of friends, but none of them seemed to be men or at least serious boyfriend types. By staking out her home, I got glimpses of her life and that whetted my appetite for her. I caught sight of her while she was on a run and saw that in her spandex running gear, she was very well built. She ran braless and her breasts were firm and tight. She had narrower hips than I preferred and her calves were more muscular than my ideal, but overall she was a desirable package.
On Friday I was nervous and jumpy all day and anxious to get to it. I cabbed over to her office carrying a large shoulder bag filled with my gear. I dressed in camo jeans with lots of pockets in which I stuffed things I might need. The jeans were baggy and pretty much hid the contents of the pockets. I wore a simple black t under my jeans jacket and black skater shoes.
I entered her waiting room, sat, my nerves jangling, and tried hard to appear calm and collected. I heard no voices over the white noise, so maybe she had no client ahead of my appointment. That had been a concern and I had taken a seat out of the line of sight of someone walking out and was prepared to hide my face behind a magazine.
Right at 5, the door to her office opened and Catharine stepped out. She had a tentative expression and didn’t greet me with her usual warmth, just nodding and inviting me in with a sweep of her hand. She seemed nervous and preoccupied. She stood back as I walked past her into the office. I figured she had made her decision and it wasn’t in my favor. No worries; she was mine regardless!
As a bonus, she was wearing all black, black hose, a skirt that clung to her and reached to just below her knees and a cotton-spandex blend long-sleeved turtle-neck. The sweater clung to her and emphasized her very attractive breasts. If I didn’t know better I would have though she was dressing to tease me! She wore black lace-up suede ankle boots with 4-inch heels. During our brief association, I was convinced by what she had worn that Ms. Black had a serious shoe fetish! As usual she had little make-up and today she had no watch or jewelry. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail, which gave her a more youthful look. I was practically salivating as I preceded her into her office!
Surprise is my best ally! As she turned to pick up her notebook from her desk, I shoved my phone against her back telling her it was a weapon. I had used real weapons in the past, but had decided that was too over-the-top, even though it was very effective!
She froze and I told her to get on the floor, which she did. I quickly pulled her arms behind her and zip-tied her wrists. I lifted her to a sitting position against the front of the couch and did the same to her ankles.
She had a dazed, what-just happened look for several seconds, staring at me, and before she could speak I jammed my hand against her mouth, pushing her head back against the sofa seat. She tried to kick out and twist free, but my adrenalin was flowing and she failed. I fished a sponge ball out of my pocket, ironically one she had given me at our first meeting. It was supposed to be used as a stress release and had her name and info on it. I bet she never in her wildest dreams imagined it would end up packed into her mouth, but into her mouth it went. I had to deprive her of oxygen for a bit by pinching her nose shut to get her to open her mouth, but she eventually relented!
From another pocket I retrieved a roll of black electrical tape and wound several turns around her head to secure the ball in her mouth. I wrapped several more turns over her eyes, blocking most of her vision.
During her transition from standing up to bound on the floor, her skirt had ridden up and I was amazed and pleased to see that she wasn’t wearing pantyhose after all; she had worn a garter belt and thigh highs. Oh happy day!
I had decided to keep her in the office until dark and then take her in her car to a building I owned for some fun and games. There would also be some fun and games in her office while we waited for dark. I left her where she sat and went out to the waiting room and locked the door, shut off the white noise machine and switched off the lights. Since it was a Friday, I didn’t expect her office mates to be in and I knew she had no more clients after me.
When I returned to the inner office, I saw that she had managed to get to her feet and hop over to her desk. She was apparently trying to reach some scissors in a desk drawer. I entered, shutting the door behind me. She started to turn towards me, but I caught her and bent her over her desk, lifting her arms away from her body. I pulled her skirt all the way up to her waist, revealing her butt. She wore sweet silky black high-cut undies that accentuated her cheeks. Holding her down to the desk top by leveraging her arms up with one hand, I spanked her exposed cheeks with the other. She squealed and twisted in my grip, but I continued to smack away, turning both cheeks a bright red. I was amped up now and so very horny!
Still holding her with her arms up, I slid my hand between her legs. Her panties were wet; interesting! I worked my hand against her sex, rubbing and probing with my fingers. Ms. Black began to push back against my hand!
I lowered her arms and pulled her upright. Spinning her to face me, I yanked her sweater up over her breasts and freed them from the skimpy black bra. Her nipples were taut and as I tongued each one she began to moan!
For several seconds, I absorbed her reactions as I teased her nipples. She had arched her back and thrust her breasts forward. It was not the behavior of a reluctant captive, at least not in my experience! I roughly spun her around, turning her back to me.
Taking a chance, I told her to stay put while I got my bag. I backed away and reached down to pick it up. Catharine didn’t try to move, just twisted her wrists slightly as if she was testing the limits of her restraint, but not trying to get loose.
I shook out a length of cord and made a loop halving the length. I moved back behind her, slid one end of the rope under her arms, passed the tag ends through the loop and gathered her elbows together. With one hand, I held her elbows and with the other I pulled the loop tighter until her elbows touched. I wrapped and cinched them.
I had wondered since I met her whether she could do that and had guessed correctly. Tying a woman’s elbows tightly, tightly, tightly together behind her back is one of the best things evah and a powerful turn-on for me!
I snipped off the cable tie and bound and cinched her wrists with rope.
I turned her back to face me and teased her breasts again by cupping them and tracing my fingers lightly over her nipples. Catharine shivered under my touch and sighed, again thrusting her breasts forward. With her elbows tied, which forced them forward and apart anyway, it was a wonderful sight!
I was losing myself in her bound body. She had a solid physique, she obviously worked to stay in shape and yet she was very feminine. The frustration I felt in the recent past fueled my passion for this particular woman. The months of abstinence had resulted in a raging need for release and Catharine was going to be the medium for that release.
I grabbed the scissors from her desk and snipped off her panties, pulling them free, leaving her garter belt in place. She murmured in protest and I checked the label. Expensive! I wondered if she had worn them for me! I stuffed them into my pocket.
She was totally void of pubic hair and had a smooth labia majora which hid her labia minora from view. Just the kind of pussy I loved! And I know; that’s maybe too much information, but I had been away from this for too long and I was really enjoying getting back into it, so to speak!
For her part she was quiet and still. She seemed to be at peace and accepting of her situation.
I thought back over our conversations and couldn’t recall any tell that showed she was into this. We had talked about some graphic things I had experienced and perpetrated and at no time did she give a clue that it was getting to her. Go figure! I guess she was able to keep her shrink game face in place while her insides churned. Just the way she was dressed now indicated that she was pandering to me. We had talked about my turn-ons and she was wearing most of them.
I was beginning to believe that she wasn’t ever really going to report me! I was coming around to thinking that she was goading me into taking her!
Well, she was going to get her wish if that was her goal!
I was on fire, horny and amped to tie her every which way!
I cut the tie on her ankles and walked her over to a chair sitting in a corner of the room. It was a straight backed wooden chair like you’d have seen in a 1960’s school. She sat and I hung her bound arms over the back of the chair and maneuvered her so that her butt was at the front edge of the seat. Raising her right leg I tied it to the rear chair leg and did the same with her other leg. I tied her wrists to the chair rung at the back. She was now semi-reclined with her legs perpendicular to the floor, but more importantly spread with her sex was open and accessible. If she was uncomfortable she didn’t advertise it by sound or movement.
I got a pillow off the couch and knelt in front of her and went at her like a thirsty dog at a bowl of water. As was my recent practice, I used a dental dam; it kind of takes away some of the pleasure from me, certainly, and probably the receiver as well. Better safe than sorry; I didn’t know Catharine well enough to do her bare back. Nonetheless, she moaned and twisted, rolling her hips forward towards me.
Catharine seemed to be in need of some sexual release herself!
Whatever was driving this bus both of us were on board and caught up in the journey. Catharine became more and more vocal and found a rhythm of movement that synced with the laving of my tongue on her clit. She moaned through an orgasm and came back for more. I was thoroughly enjoying my visit to her genitals and used a fresh dam to rim her. That set off a new spasm of frantic movement. If she hadn’t been tied down, she would have wriggled herself onto the floor. I shivered at the thought of her going down on me; she was so energetic receiving, I hoped that she would be equally motivated when it inevitably came time for her to do me!
I pleasured her for several minutes more and elicited another orgasm from her using a small torpedo vibrator on her clit and then around her anal passage. She was wet with perspiration and bodily fluids and showing no inclination to slow down when I did stop. She sighed at that withdrawal and tried to plead for more through the muffling ball and tape gag.
The therapist was proving to be quite a sexual challenge.
I looped a rope around her waist and tied it off, maneuvering the knot to a spot on her back just above her butt crack. I worked the end between her legs (she actually lifted her butt up to help me!) and through the waist loop near her belly button. Kneeling in front of her, I worked the rope deep into her labia while pulling it tight. The rope was well wedged in past her pussy lips and also cinched her waist while forming a vee across her lower abdomen. She protested a bit at the intrusion of the rope into her privates, but then seemed to adjust it to her satisfaction by shifting her hips a bit. I inserted the small vibrator under the crotch rope just above her mons and turned it on. She sighed and threw her head back, obviously now viewing the intrusion as a plus!
I was incredibly turned on and practically bouncing off the wall with sexual energy. I so wanted this woman! To distract myself, I took several pictures of her and a short video with my iPhone. I forced myself to focus on the next task at hand, which was spiriting her out of here and to my lair for some more sexual adventures. I just knew she was more than willing to service me and I wanted another shot at her with my strap-on among other things!
I released her from the chair, leaving her arms bound and the crotch rope in place. I removed the vibrator to her obvious disappointment.
I unwound the tape from her eyes and mouth and pried the soggy ball out of her mouth.
Catharine blinked her eyes into focus and stretched her jaw muscles.
“Oh my god” she gushed, “That was so incredible!”
I put my hand gently over her mouth.
“First thing you need to know, Catharine? Do not speak unless spoken to. And always call me Mistress. Understand?”
Her eyes went large and she visibly swallowed before nodding her head.
“Good! I’m going to take you out of here to a more, um…private place so that we can continue to explore… this! Now open your mouth!”
She gulped, blinked several times and then opened up.
I pushed her balled-up panties into her mouth, telling her to close her mouth on them. It wasn’t any kind of a gag, but it got the point across that she was mine.
“Now we are going to walk out of here to your car. If we bump into anyone, you are going to keep your mouth shut and behave. Understand?”
She nodded her assent; we would see if she would actually do it. I didn’t expect any trouble, but buyer’s remorse might set in as we left her place of comfort and headed for a destination unknown. The fact that her arms would be bound and her mouth stuffed full of her panties might also spook her. I hoped not, but I would be ready to bolt if that happened.
This part of the adventure always thrilled me. Moving a bound captive in public was a challenge and never failed to give me a tremendous charge.
I helped her to her feet, grabbed my bag and pushed her in front of me out to the waiting room, retrieving her coat as we exited her office. It was a long, lightweight woolen black coat that extended to below her knees, secured by a belt at the waist. I slipped it over her shoulders and knotted the belt. Her empty sleeves went into the pockets. I hung her bag over her shoulder after first extracting her car keys. She looked normal at a quick glance, but anyone really looking would see that something wasn’t right!
She stared at me with a strange expression, part fear, part excitement, but she kept her mouth closed around her panties.
I shut down the lights, checked the lock and pushed her out into the hall after first taking a look to see if the coast was clear. We walked the narrow hall in single file; she was in front, my hand gripping the back of her coat belt. I was alert and nervous, expecting someone to jump out of every office door, even though it was well after normal business hours.
We arrived at the elevator lobby unnoticed. After a second of thought, I pushed her toward the stairwell, opening the door for her and hustling us in. We started down the stairs. Her heels echoed loudly in the space. At the first landing, juiced on adrenalin and desire, I stopped her, spun her to face me and kissed her hard on her mouth. She opened her lips and my tongue caressed the panties which filled her mouth. It was a ferocious kiss. I could feel her bound arms through the fabric of the coat as I crushed her body against me. We kissed for several minutes. I worked my hand into her crotch and fingered her. I pinned her to the wall, grinding against her; she pushed back. It was apparent that she wanted this as much as I did and maybe even more. We broke our clinch and continued down the stairs, both of us wound up and breathing hard.
At the bottom of the stairs, I peered out into the lobby and found it to be empty. None of the elevators seemed to be moving. We edged out and walked quickly to the front entrance. There were people on the sidewalk outside, but they didn’t worry me. Most were intent on getting somewhere and were lost in their own thoughts. We walked quickly side by side to the parking lot passing several people none of which paid us any mind.
I fingered her key fob and saw the flash of lights as the door unlocked. We hurried to the car, a Honda FIT with a third door hatch in the back. Perfect! I looked around and saw few cars and no people. Wanting to enhance the experience for Catharine as much as possible, I decided I would transport her in the back with her in a quick hogtie.
I walked to the back and popped the hatch. Untying the coat belt, I slipped the coat off her shoulders. She whipped her head around looking either for help or hoping no one could see her in her nudity and bondage. For the first time this evening she really began to struggle. I loved it when my subjects were compliant, but I loved it even more when they were struggling and unhappy about their situation. Catharine was definitely unhappy!
She shrunk back against open rear door of the car. As Catharine opened her mouth to push out the panties, I clamped my hand over her mouth and gave her a little push. She sat down hard on the inside deck. Grabbing her legs and twisting I moved her totally into the back and over onto her stomach. She again tried to expel the panties, but I got there just in time and used her coat belt to secure them in her mouth. Time was of the essence here and neatness didn’t count. I snatched off my belt and crossed and bound her ankles with it. With her gagged and in the car, I had the time to extract a rope from my toy bag and fasten her into a serviceable hogtie. I made it as tight as possible given my need to hurry and the cramped space. There would be time and opportunity to really show her the ropes soon enough!
She was now very unhappy and who could blame her? Nude, bound and gagged by a stranger and stuffed into the back of her car, she had a right to protest. I liked that she was showing a little spirit!
I unlaced her shoes and pulled them off. I think being shoeless makes people feel more vulnerable in these situations and I wanted her to really feel it.
I tossed her coat over her as a temporary cover and slammed the lid. She thrashed about and screamed into the gag. I don’t know what she was expecting when she let me walk her out, but this was clearly not it!
I dropped into the driver’s seat and started up the little car. Catharine was making a lot of noise and was actually causing the car to bounce with her struggles. I smiled a little smile, put the car in gear and headed slowly out of the lot, my head on a swivel checking for people.
Seeing no one, I began to relax and look forward to more therapy with my personal therapist.
continues in part 2
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