Lisa smiled to herself, as she parked her Mini Cooper on the upper eastside of Manhattan. The decision to spend $200 for the last pair of shiny black vinyl boots at the Jersey Mall was atypical in style. Regardless of their provocative appearance, they were about to pay huge dividends in navigating the three inches of slush from the recent late March snow storm.
Opening the driver side door, she pivots her 5’9” frame, and authoritavely places her left three inch heel into the cold slippery slush. Out of nowhere, a man, with an unobstructed view of her shapely legs, offered his hand for assistance. Usually, quite independent, she grabs his hand and slides out of the car and steps onto the sidewalk.
“My pleasure,” he responds. “Nice car and nice boots. Expensive?”
Teasingly she queries, “Car or the boots?” Without waiting for an answer, “Here’s my business card. I’m a psychotherapist. We can talk about the car for hours on end if you wish.” Smiling, “Or, if you prefer we can talk about the boots.” With that she waved goodbye and headed up the street to her office apartment, knowing full well that he would call for an appointment, and it would not be to talk about the car.
Their first session, four weeks later, hit the ground running.
“You’re wearing a William Jones metal chastity belt?”
“Can’t stop what? Please be more specific. You weren’t shy at the car.”
“Yes. Three, four and five times a day is a little obsessive.”
“I guess the belt would be more effective, if you didn’t possess the keys.”
“No, I won’t hold them for a month.”
“Okay. Okay. If you insist, I’ll keep them until next session,” as she begrudgingly grabbed the keys.
Seeing him to the door, she unexpectedly admonished, “try and behavior yourself until next Wednesday.” After she closed the door, he stood alone in the corridor, and wondered if he hadn’t overreacted.
Next Wednesday, it rained and rained, and he found himself sitting across from you know who, wearing her you know what. He was so glad that she hadn’t taken him up on the month. When he got home, he would.….
“No. I think it best that I hold the keys until this session is over.”
“Why? I said so. That’s why! In fact, I may hold them until our next session.”
“I can’t, can I. Allow me to refresh your memory. Last week, you insisted that your release date be left to my sole discretion. In fact, you were actually emphatic about it.”
“Oh, now you remember. You were only kidding. Well, I’m not. The belt stays on until we conclude our session next week.”
The next five minutes brought pleading, whining, and even threats. When he finally finished, Lisa answered him.
“I know you like shiny black vinyl boots. That’s the problem. Isn’t it?”
“Furthermore, I’ll wear them whenever and wherever I want, rain or shine, belt or no belt.”
“I know the belt prevents….. Isn’t that its purpose?”
“Yes, the belt is very tight. Isn’t it supposed to be?”
“No, you can’t physically take the keys from me. They’re locked safely away in New Jersey. I had a feeling that they wouldn’t be needed today.”
“Oops, looks like our time’s up. I assume you won’t need a reminder card for our next appointment. I thought not.”
“Let yourself out!”
Half way through the session, sans boots, Lisa tries to summarize.
“That’s quite a fantasy.”
“On the one hand, you want to be locked 24/7, forced to endure me wearing shiny black vinyl boots, each session, week after week, year after year, forever.”
“On the other hand, you’re hoping to get the keys back at this session end, go home, and do your nefarious deed.”
“You do know that your keys come with two different price tags?”
“Surely, I can explain.”
“When I have the keys, the price is your celibacy. If you have them, the price is different.”
“How so, you ask?”
“Once you take the keys back, I’m finished with them. This is a one-time only event.”
“I have more bad news. If I don’t have the keys, there will be no more shiny black vinyl boot viewing during our sessions. Furthermore, you can leave your belt at home.”
“I know it’s a stiff price. Most good things are.”
“Do I have a solution for your dilemma? Yes, allow me to suggest another option.”
“I could hold your keys and sometime in the next year, I’ll ask if you want them back, with the stipulation that you do not bring up the subject before then.”
“I know one year is a long time. The other two choices are forever, or not at all.”
As promised, Lisa offered the keys many times, as months turned into years. At first reluctantly, but now willingly, he refused the keys, accepting her forever price option, only in installments.
Lisa is real. She is a caring psychotherapist, with a superb talent for listening. I suppose it doesn’t hurt that she’s very good-looking, either.
That being said, if you ever see her getting out of that Mini Cooper, you can chat, even set up an appointment to discuss whatever you want. However, for goodness sake, leave the belt keys at home.
Finally, while shiny black vinyl boots may not be her style, the aforementioned dialogue is. How do I know? She told me so.
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