Part 1 – The Meeting
She saw him sitting at the table in the corner of the restaurant’s outdoor dining area. It was a beautiful spring day, and it was the perfect setting for their meeting. Public but not crowded. Privacy to a point, but enough to know that they had to keep their voices down. Not that it mattered to Monica. She loved to push her clients’ buttons by being just a little too loud to cause them to shrink in embarrassment.
She checked him out before approaching. Hmmm. Probably 35 to 40 years old. Glasses. Seems fairly well built. Good looking too. Did he have some sort of quirk that he couldn’t find someone on his own?
She approached the table and he stood up. “Right on time.” He said. “That’s a good start.” He offered his hand.
She gave a glance at his hands. No sign of a wedding ring. Nice eyes even behind the glasses. Even better looking close up. Good dresser as well. Must make a good salary as his suit and shoes appeared to be high-end. She offered her hand. “This is a little unusual for an introduction,” she said.
“Well, I have a fairly busy schedule this week and my office is just a couple of blocks away.” He replied. “Oh, I’m sorry, I never gave you my name. It’s Steven.”
“Well Steven, if that’s your real name,” she smiled, “I was told by a mutual acquaintance that you are in need of my services.”
“Actually, it IS Steven. Would you like to tell me yours?” he asked. “Just so we can have a friendly conversation.”
“Mistress Wildfire,” she replied. “That’s all you need to know.”
He looked at her with a little amusement. “OK, I’ll go with that for now.” He couldn’t help but to look at her. Probably 5’6’. Nice figure. Not top heavy but probably a 38 ‘D’ cup. Raven hair and large brown eyes. Good dresser too. Simple blouse and a black leather skirt and boots. Not over the top, but just enough to look like the other professional women walking down the street.
“So, I was given very little by my client about what you are looking for,” Monica said. “He just said that you wanted a topnotch professional, so here I am.” She looked at him. “So, what’s your kink?”
“Ah, you don’t waste time," Steven replied.
“Like you I have appointments to keep. The old saying ‘Time is Money’ applies here. I’m not making any, sitting here and my studio is empty,” she said.
“Studio?” Steven asked. “Oh, that’s what you call your…"
“Dungeon, playroom, torture chamber. Whatever suits your fancy," Monica replied. “I consider myself an artist, so I use studio. In the end the description doesn’t matter.”
“I guess not.”
“As I asked…what are you into? Corporal? Bondage?”
“He didn’t give you much information as to what I’m looking for," Steven replied. “It’s not for me, it’s…”
“Oh, yes…” Monica chuckled. “It’s for a friend… SSUUURREE. What would your ‘friend’ want?”
Steven took out a case from his coat pocket. “You are getting the wrong idea.” He took a business card from the case and handed it to her.
She took the card and read it. “Steven Askew, MD PhD. Family and Relationship Counseling”.
“You’re a shrink?” she said. “No problem, I’ve had a couple in my studio.”
“As I said, it’s not for me. “, sighed Steven. “My practice is seeing more instances where my patients are exploring other avenues and have been influenced by contemporary social…"
“You have people who want to explore kink?” said Monica.
“In short, yes,” Steven replied. “I’ve touched on this in school, symposiums and professional literature, but I have no practical experience in this …field.” He leaned over slightly. “I could tell them to find their own…dominatrix, but I don’t want them to meet someone who might make it a traumatic and damaging experience. In one of our discussions my patient mentioned he visits you on occasion for a ‘session’.”
“So what’s your patient’s hang up?” Monica asked teasingly. “Let me guess.”
“That’s not important,” said Steven.
“Oh, but we must,” she replied. “I want you to be sure I am completely qualified. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
Steven knew that she was trying to get a rise out of him. He’ll play her little game.
“Does he like to be a rubber gimp?” said Monica. She saw that Steven didn’t bat an eye. “I have a client who is a foodie. On Thanksgiving I truss him up like a turkey, cover him in gravy and stick a baster up his…" She saw that Steven wasn’t taking the bait. “You’re not that easy to rile.”
“Mistress Wildfire,” Steven said firmly. “I’ve had enough experience dealing with all sorts of behaviors and quirks. I’ve dealt with addictions, deniers, enablers and plenty of manipulators. I also give a damn about my patients, and I am willing to work with them to resolve their problems. If you want to sit there and play games, we can end this right here.”
Monica looked at him for a moment. “So, this is legit? Not some sort of joke or scam?” she asked. She still wasn’t sure that he was just playing some sort of con game.
“You can look me up in the local Psychiatric Professional Associations, and the State Ethics Board to start,” said Steven. “I even had a couple of articles published. If you think you can understand the subject matter, feel free to read them.”
“OK, Doctor,” Monica said and sat back in her chair. “This is my way of trying to read my clients. I see what makes them comfortable, or uncomfortable. Excited or just mad.”
The waiter came over to their table, poured them some water. “Would you care for a drink?” he asked.
“Just a soda,” Monica replied. “I don’t drink during working hours.”
“Same here,” said Steven. “My rule as well.”
After the waiter left, Monica continued. “You said you don’t have any experience with what I do for a living. I want to make it clear you understand what I provide and what I will not.”
“I have no practical experience,” Steven replied.
‘Practical or theoretical. It makes no difference to me as long as you and your… patients, go into this with eyes wide open. I have certain rules that everyone follows, from the newbie to a dyed in the wool submissive,” Monica continued. “People have certain unrealistic expectations, and don’t like their fantasies ruined when reality sets in. That pisses me off.”
The waiter brought their drinks and asked if they wished to order. Monica looked at Steven and then the menu. She ordered the house luncheon salad. “Well, at least I’m going to get lunch out of this.”
Steven ordered the same. “Can you tell me your rules?” he asked.
“People think that I’m going to fuck them. I never have, and never will. Only whores do that. That is also illegal and my going to jail isn’t worth the time, money or the other troubles that go with it. There are no laws against being a dominatrix, although some tight asses think there should be.”
“I take it there are a lot of your customers who believe you will?” asked Steven.
Monica realized that he had gotten her to talk a lot more about herself than she wanted. She smiled. “OK, I was trying to punch your buttons and you ended up punching mine. You win.”
“I wasn’t trying to win anything. “, Steven replied “I wanted to talk. To get us used to each other and develop a rapport. Why don’t we just have lunch and let things progress on their own?”
Lunch was delivered and they ate their salads.
“What are you looking for, Doctor?” asked Monica as she nibbled on a piece of Romaine. “Correction, what are your patients looking for?”
“They want to explore their desires in a safe, private environment. They want direction when needed and their questions answered,” Steven said. “I know a couple of sex therapists, but my patients don’t want just another book-taught psychologist. They want someone who has the experience and knowledge in all manner of, well… kinks.”
“I’ve never met any Domme who knows everything,” said Monica. “There are also things I won’t touch because they can be way too dangerous. I don’t do breathplay, blood or hard core S&M. Watersports are out, but I’ve worked with a gal who specializes in that I can send them to.”
“You mean like a referral?” asked Steven.
“Yes, you could say that. I assume that you would refer them to me, or would you be negotiating the scene for them.”
“That is the purpose of our meeting,” said Steven.
“I think that this is going to take a lot longer than an hour’s lunch break,” said Monica.
They finished their lunch quietly. After a few minutes Steven then spoke. “I would like to take a look at your studio to get a better idea what my patients should anticipate.”
“To see if all the hype you were told was true,” Monica said. “I’m also not too far from here. As I mentioned, my schedule is full today, but would you have some time later this week?”
Steven took out his phone and checked his appointments. “How long would this take?”
“A half hour to show you the basics. Let’s say an hour to include questions and demos. Thursday at 4:00 PM?”
“That’s not going to interfere with your schedule?” Steven asked.
“I’m more flexible than you think, Doctor,” said Monica. She then gave him her card. It had ‘Mistress Wildfire’, her address and her phone number.
They finished their lunch. Steven paid the check and they both left the restaurant. At the entrance she smiled at him. “See you Thursday, Doctor. If you’re not there, I’ll have to punish you.” She turned and walked south down the sidewalk.
Steven returned the smile, looked at the card and placed it in his coat pocket. He turned and walked north towards his office.
Part 2 – An introduction to the Studio
It was five minutes to four. Steven checked the building numbers as he walked down the block. He was acquainted with the neighborhood. The ballpark as well as several restaurants and bars were within sight. He watched the crowd enter the gates for the evening’s game. So many people. Why would she set up shop here? Then he realized that was the best place. Any client would blend into the background.
He found the building. It was fairly old, but like most of the places around there it had been renovated multiple times through the years. The ground floor was a modern gastropub. A door facing the sidewalk was on the opposite side of the pub’s entry. Two doorbell buttons were on a panel next to a speaker. One button said ‘Office’ and the other simply marked ‘W’. He pressed the ‘W’ button, certain that it was Mistress Wildfire’s.
There was a buzzer but no reply. He pushed the button again. He looked up and noticed a red light from a camera.
From the speaker came a voice “Yes?” It wasn’t her voice.
“I have an appointment,” Steven replied.
“You sure?” said the voice. “Oh, sorry. I’m looking at the wrong date. Up the stairs, and first door to the right.” Another buzzer sounded.
He pushed open the door and entered a small vestibule. There was a hallway leading to the back and a staircase to the second floor. Steven climbed up the stairs and waited in front of the door. He noticed another camera just above the door. He knocked at the door. It opened and Steven came face to face with a young redheaded woman. She was extensively tattooed and wearing a black busier, thong and riding boots.
“I thought Mistress Wildfire was here,” Steven said.
“She is. She’s just finishing getting dressed. Wants to make your experience enjoyable,” said the woman. “C’mon in.”
“I’m not here for an ‘experience’,” said Steven as he entered. “This wasn’t what I expected.”
“You guys never do,” said Monica. Steven turned and saw her enter the room. She was dressed in skin-tight latex with a black leather corset and thigh-high stiletto boots and shoulder-length gloves. A leather choker was around her neck. “Relax Doctor. I had to change for my next appointment. It takes a while to squeeze myself into this outfit. This is Diamond, my assistant. I don’t do scenes without backup, just in case the client doesn’t want to behave.”
“Hi there,” said Diamond. “He’s kinda cute. Sure he doesn’t want to play?”
“He’s not buying any of the usual schtick,” said Monica. “This is just the guided tour.”
“Well, if you don’t need me, I’m going to catch the rest of ‘Jeopardy’ on the tube,” said Diamond. She turned and walked towards the back.
Steven looked around the room. There were pictures on the wall of nude men and women in various displays of submission and bondage. The furniture consisted of a sofa and two chairs upholstered in black leather. A wood coffee table and two matching end tables on either side of the sofa, and a sideboard. In all, much more sedate than he imagined.
Monica watched Steven as he took in the room. “I don’t throw everything at the client at once. I get them used to the situation, then start the session,” she explained. “You give the client the whole Marquis De Sade stuff at once and it can scare them off. I might make a little money then, but I lose out in the long run.”
“Part of your business plan?” asked Steven.
“C’mon Doctor. You don’t throw the whole Freud and Jung thing the first time with your patients, do you?” Monica replied.
“No, and Freud and Jung are not exactly the current theories in psychology,” Steven answered.
“Sorry, those are the only two names I remember from school,” smiled Monica. “Any questions before I give you the tour?”
“Flash photography allowed?” Steven joked.
“Souvenir photos are available afterwards. Keep your hands inside the car at all times,” she replied as she opened a door on one side of the room. “After you.”
Steven walked through the door and Monica switched on the lights. He wasn’t entirely surprised at what he saw. In one corner was a St Andrews’ cross. In another was a heavy wooden chair with multiple leather straps and what looked like a removable seat. There were a couple of glass cabinets containing various dildos, butt plugs, clamps and several large tubes of lubricant. Numerous hooks were scattered along the walls from which restraints were hung. There were also whips, paddles and other instruments of leather, wood and fiberglass.
“As you can see Doctor, I have enough to satisfy most submissives. In the closet to your right, I keep various lengths of rope, chain and leather. The other closet I use for confinement purposes. It’s got a metal security door and two deadbolt locks. Very claustrophobic and very effective, especially when they are in the dark.”
“I know this is going to sound silly…”Steven started. “What about sanitation? I mean, this room certainly looks clean.”
“Don’t worry about that. I keep everything spotless. Disinfectants after each use and there is a washroom for the clients to clean themselves afterward. No shower. I’m not a hotel and I want them in and out as soon as I’m done with them,” Monica explained. “Let’s try door number two.”
“There’s more?” asked Steven.
“This is a first class outfit,” Monica chuckled. “When I got the place I thought ‘How am I going to fill all these rooms?’ Turns out I’m actually a bit cramped for space. I had a mummy case I had to unload recently. It was too big, and I just didn’t have enough clients who would go for that to be worth keeping.”
They proceeded through the Cage Room, where a small 4 foot by 3 foot cage was in one corner, and a platform bed with a cage underneath. Next was the Suspension Room where there was a leather sling being held up by a series of steel cables connected to a winch, and a hunter’s gambrel where the client would be hung by the wrists. Then the Medical Center where a doctor’s examination table was next to a fully functioning Dentist’s chair. Monica would show her equipment and volunteer information as to her expertise in using it.
“This all looks pretty expensive,” said Steven. “I take it you make a good living out of it?”
“It paid for my condo, my car and my student loans,” she replied. “Rent for this place is a bitch, but for the square footage it’s worth it. I sublet it out to other Dommes who don’t have their own place. All they have to do is follow my rules and give me my cut.”
She showed him the back room where there was a bank of monitors and other security equipment. Diamond was snacking on a granola bar as she watched her show.
“How’s it going?” asked Monica.
“These clowns have no idea. Artist, the category. Woman Impressionist who did not participate in the Paris Exhibitions of 1874 to 1886,” said Diamond.
“Who was Eva Gonzalès?” said Monica.
“Yep, that’s it.’ Diamond said. “You gotta get on this show. You’ll wipe the floor with these losers.”
Monica looked at Steven who was a bit surprised. She guided him back down the hallway. “Well, that ends the tour. Did it meet your expectations?”
“Your place is more than I expected. It appears safe and clean, and most of all private. The neighborhood is well-lit. It looks like you thought of everything.”
“Don’t forget that buses and trains are nearby as well as two parking lots within a block,” she added.
“As I said, you thought about everything," Steven said. “It must have taken a lot of work to get this set up.”
“A lot of time, money and patience. That’s why I treat this business seriously. One stupid mistake and it's all down the drain. When you made your offer, I was hesitant. I thought at first you were a cop trying to set me up, or a grifter wanting to scam me.”
“I can say that I was surprised you didn’t turn me down flat. This is certainly an unusual situation I suppose. So, how did you get into this line of work?” he asked her.
She looked at him for a moment. “Well Doctor, that’s a long story and at this moment I’m going to decline to tell you. It’s nothing sinister, and by now you’ve probably Googled my name to find if I have some sort of arrest record or scandal.”
“After we met at lunch, I called a friend on the police force and asked him if there was anything on you. They knew your name, but there was nothing they deemed worthy of investigating.”
“And I intend to keep it that way,” said Monica as she escorted him back to the front room. “If you’re not comfortable with me or my business then I’ve wasted my time. If you want to negotiate terms and prices, then give me a call and we’ll sit down and hammer out the details.”
She opened the door. Steven looked at her. “Give me until Wednesday to figure out how to present this to my patients. To see if they are willing and to find out what you should expect from them. I’ll call you either way. We can work out the details for their…"
“Session?” suggested Monica.
“That will work. Session. Afterwards you can fill me in on what transpired.”
Monica looked at him. “Wait a second. You want me to give you a report?”
“I’m going to have to compare their version of events to ensure that it matches with what actually occurred.”
“A literal ‘blow by blow’ retelling?” Monica asked. “I don’t have a stenographer taking notes when I do a scene.”
“I’m not asking for a thesis explaining the inner workings of your… sessions.”
“Maybe you’d like me to record everything. So, you can view it at your leisure at home with a glass of Chardonnay,” Monica said gruffly.
“Wait a second. The recording would work, but I’m not trying to get my jollies watching my patients have sex. I’m a professional therapist," Steven stammered.
“I thought you said you handled manipulators. Seems that you need a little more practice,” Monica smiled.
Steven realized that once again, Mistress Wildfire was testing him. He didn’t like it, but he probably deserved it for making things sound too clinical.
“OK. From now on, no more bullshit Doctor. I think that this…might be a good arrangement for us both. You help your patients and I get more clients. We’ll see how things work out.”
Monica opened the door and handed him another one of her cards. “Email, text and my private number are on the back.” He took the card, walked to the stairs and went down to the first floor. He looked up at her and gave a slight smile before walking out the door.
Part 3 - First Session Planning
That Saturday morning, Steven looked at his notes. He had waited a day to think about what he was going to do before making any decisions as to how to approach his first ‘referral’ to Mistress Wildfire. He had multiple patients who touched upon BDSM in their joint and individual sessions. He had to make the right choices. This was a very unorthodox way to resolve marital and sexual issues. File after file he reviewed; creating a pile for those he felt would reject his suggestion, and another pile for those patients who may be willing to try.
Of the ‘willing’ batch he had selected six files. Of these, Steven felt that these were couples who would be willing to explore BDSM.
His calendar had Simon and Rachel at 9:00 AM on Monday morning. Andrew and Jane at 10:30, Timothy and Gwen that afternoon at 2:00 PM, Susan and Lee at 3:30. On Tuesday it would be Kathy and Ian at 9:00 AM and Max and Fiona at 1:00 PM. Depending on the reaction he got from these couples he would discuss their specific cases with Mistress Wildfire. The difficulty was how much information he could give without breaching patient confidentiality. He decided he would get them to sign a release, with the stipulation that he would only give the barest amount of personal information. He would use aliases and not reveal background information that could identify them. This was going to be some balancing act!
He had completed his task and decided to take a walk through the park. He stopped by a hot dog vendor for a quick lunch. He sat down on a bench and watched the people pass by. He thought about the patients he was going to refer to Mistress Wildfire. They were no different than the couple over by the bike rack, or the ones by the…well the spiked multicolored hair kind of stood out; but there was nothing to suggest they were interested in BDSM. Then he thought that as a professional and their therapist he should never make snap judgements. Then his mind went back to Mistress Wildfire. He had really made unfair suppositions about her. She was serious about her work, but she wasn’t heavy-handed or tried to put on a show. She seemed to be comfortable about herself, although she wanted to keep as much as private as possible. Another snap judgment? Possibly. She was good at manipulation, but he felt that was just a defense mechanism rather than any malicious intent.
When he returned home, Steven began to rehearse how he would present his suggestion of Mistress Wildfire to each of his patients. He wrote notes on a pad trying to form the right words and phrases. This was a delicate matter and certainly one that might raise some eyebrows amongst his peers. He knew of other therapists who suggested a professional dominatrix, but they did not actually go out and find one for their patients. His doubts regarding his decision to go this route had resurfaced. As he looked out his window, he thought about calling things off. Then he looked back at his pile of files. It wasn’t like he was getting a cut of her fees or any other benefits, and if anything negative occurred he would cease his referrals.
After more hours of writing and rewriting his notes for each patient, he was satisfied with what he was going to say and how to say it. He went to his computer and began writing a draft of an email to Mistress Wildfire, explaining each case. All Mistress Wildfire would get is a basic outline of the patients’ histories, issues, and his suggestions for treatment. Wait! Not treatment. These weren’t case studies to be reviewed by other therapists. He removed the suggestions and simply asked her to call him with any questions. He kept the email in Draft status until he completed his presentations to his patients.
He looked out the window again. It was late. He didn’t want to go out for dinner and was too tired to make anything. He picked up his phone and called the Chinese restaurant for his usual pick-up order.
It was 9:45 AM on Monday that Steven broached the subject of Mistress Wildfire. Simon’s body tensed up in his chair and Rachel’s mouth hung open slightly.
“Are you joking?” Simon asked. “Are you seriously suggesting that we go to this… hooker?”
“No… no, Simon," Steven replied. “This is a professional dominatrix. There will be no sexual contact between you and her. This is to give you the BDSM experience you expressed a curiosity in trying during your recent sessions. It is private, discrete and if it’s not for you after one try you don’t have to go back.”
“I don’t think we can do this with a complete stranger,” said Rachel. “It was hard enough to bring this up with you.”
“I understand,” replied Steven. “This was only a suggestion for you to engage in BDSM in a private and discrete setting. No chance of nosy neighbors or unexpected visitors showing up, as you have feared.”
“How much are you getting out of this?” asked Simon.
“Nothing. I have no financial interest in Mistress Wildfire’s business," Steven said. “This is something separate from our sessions. It is entirely up to you whether you want to do this or not. BDSM is beyond my expertise and like any other profession, if you need a specialist you have to find one. I’ve done the best I could to find someone I believe you can work with.”
“This is something we’re going to have to think about, a lot,” Rachel said. “I need to wrap my head around this.”
“That’s perfectly fine. I’m not pressuring you or Simon into this. Just trying to help you explore your sexuality and further strengthen your relationship,” replied Steven. “Anyway, our time is up. Call me if you have decided to go ahead, or not. I’ll see you next week.”
After they had left, Steven made himself a cup of espresso and downed it in one quick gulp. He wasn’t sure of their reaction. Were they thinking HE needed therapy to even suggest this? He wondered about that himself. He straightened up his office and prepared for his next couple.
Two days later, Steven had received texts from all six couples. Of these, Rachel and Simon, Kathy and Ian, and Max and Fiona had asked for him to make appointments with Mistress Wildfire. The other three couples declined, although he later received a separate text from Lee wanting to discuss things further. He sent an email to Mistress Wildfire with some preliminary information and a request to meet with him to go over more details. He had replied to his patients for an outline of their schedules for the next couple of weeks, so that they could coordinate schedules. He had thought that they should have just contacted her directly, but he didn’t want them to feel as if he was just dumping them on Mistress Wildfire.
That afternoon, Steven had emailed Mistress Wildfire with the basic information about his patients and the interests they had expressed in their sessions. He was surprised when that evening, he received a phone call from her rather than an email response.
“You know, you could have just let me arrange things with these six,” she said. “You were pretty uncomfortable getting involved.”
Steven knew that she was a much more perceptive person than he had first attributed to her. “It was my idea and even though they are doing this of their own free will, I feel responsible for maintaining some oversight,” he replied. “If things don’t go right, I’ll have to clean up the mess I caused.”
“Nothing goes wrong in my shop as long as everyone follows the rules,” she said. ”So, don’t beat yourself up. That’s my job.”
“What?”
“Old trade joke,” she laughed. “C’mon. Try to relax. I don’t go hard and heavy on newbies. I want repeat customers. Do you start giving your patients tranquilizers on day one, or put them in straightjackets? Actually, I do have one here, if you…OK, I think I’m annoying you with my remarks.”
“You never stop do you?” Steven asked. “I don’t mind you throwing in a little humor, but can we just talk a little more seriously?”
“I guess you shrinks call this a defense mechanism,” she replied. “I’ve had plenty of people try to ‘understand’ or ‘empathize’ when they talk to me about Mistress Wildfire. Frankly, I’m just tired of that bullshit. I can talk to you without the smart-assed statements, but give me a little courtesy and treat me like someone who knows their business. This isn’t some dissertation or thesis and it isn’t a game, so please let’s both of us cut it out and respect each other.”
Steven was silent for a moment. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on the receiving end of a tongue-lashing.” He paused. “And I apologize for the disrespect I showed you.”
“And the same for myself,” she replied. “I first took you for either a game player or a tight-assed academic when we met at my studio. It’s been something that I have to get a better handle on when I have to ‘act normal’. There is nothing normal about this business and it slips when I’m not in character.”
“So, Mistress Wildfire is a character?” Steven asked.
“No analysis please. I’m going to be on the clock soon. I have a customer in about twenty minutes, so can we cut to what I am to expect? Anything about these six that you didn’t flesh out in your email.?”
“I tried to be as detailed as possible about what they wanted. As for their real identities or other personal details…”
“This is as personal as you can get. Sorry, keep going.”
“No mention of their names, professions, or anything that would intrude on their privacy," Steven explained.
“If they should volunteer that information?”
“Whew!… I didn’t take that into consideration. I assumed that they wouldn’t…"
“Don’t worry about it. What’s said in the dungeon, stays in the dungeon. I’m not going to be at their doorstep dressed in leather and with a flogger in one hand,” she said.
Steven couldn’t resist. “Actually, I wondered if you did make house calls.”
“Smartass… No… For house calls I wear rubber. In the event of rain,” she replied with a giggle.
Part 4 – The aftermath
Kathy -
A full week went by after Steven’s call to Mistress Wildfire. In their last sessions his patients admitted that they had been in contact with her and had made appointments, but they gave no details as to when. Steven decided not to press the issue then and to wait until their next session.
The following week, each of the three couples met with him and gave descriptions of what they each went through with Mistress Wildfire. Needless to say, Steven was a bit surprised that they all enjoyed the experience and had asked for continuing sessions from Mistress Wildfire.
Near the end of the week, Steven received a text from Mistress Wildfire. All it said was “Need to meet in person. My studio this Friday 5:00 PM.” He replied asking why, but her response was “Can’t go into this now. Just say yes or no.” He agreed and after that there were no further messages. Steven was worried that something went on that none of his patients had told him.
He appeared at her studio at the requested time. She and only she was there. No Diamond and no other assistant. She had a look of concern on her face that Steven had not seen before.
“Why am I here?” Steven asked. “Did something go wrong? Anyone get hurt?”
“It’s something about one of your patients you need to know,” Mistress Wildfire said and brought him to the back room and switched on the DVD player. “I know who this Kathy is, and I know you would realize I’d figure it out too. She’s that weatherbabe on the early morning news show.”
Steven knew that he couldn’t possibly conceal Kathy’s identity for long. He just hoped that Mistress Wildfire was a late riser and would not have seen his patient. Kathy was new to the city after transferring from New York four months ago. She, her husband and their dogs had just moved into a lakeshore high-rise. The move appeared to have hampered and put stress on their marriage and they were having intimacy problems, thus their coming to him for help.
“How much did she tell you about herself?” Mistress Wildfire asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, except for the BDSM interest. Childhood happy, Journalism major, promoted quickly and transferred here.”
“Anything else?”
“I’m not following you,” Steven replied.
“Sexually?”
“No, other than…”
“Did you know she was a lesbian?” Mistress Wildfire asked.
“Wh…what?!”
“Deep in the closet, but a lesbian. Oh, she has this mental block where she denies it. She married Ian just to convince everyone that she was straight. But she has some serious issues…and ones that should be addressed by the cops and the State's Attorney.”
Mistress Wildfire inserted a recording into the player. In moments there was the image of Kathy. She was bound to the gambrel, suspended until only her toes were on the floor. Mistress Wildfire was applying a multi-thonged flogger to Kathy’s backside.
“Where’s Ian?” Steven asked.
“This isn’t their joint session. This is one that she requested for only herself, without his knowledge.”
Steven watched as Kathy writhed with each stroke of the flogger. She was grimacing, but also smiling.
“I muted the sound, but all she is saying are things like ‘Harder!’ “Beat me Mistress!’ ‘Fuck me! And ’I’m your bitch’.”
Steven looked at Mistress Wildfire. “Where does that tell you she’s…”
“It was after the session that she started crying and just gushed out what had happened to her in college. I’m not a therapist and I’m not taking Confession, but I just had to let her go on.”
“What was that?” Steven asked.
“Kathy was a lesbian even in high school, but her town and family were really conservative. She hid it, even for a time from herself. When she went to college, and here’s the bad part…she had a journalism professor who took an interest in her and not in a good way. Seems she liked choosing one ‘special’ girl every couple of years and would groom them into a submissive partner. Yeah, Kathy was seduced and taken by this professor to various BDSM clubs where she was shown off as that woman’s sex slave. During school breaks, Kathy would stay with this professor where she spent a lot of time in a basement dungeon. Besides physical abuse, there was a lot of emotional abuse as well. I’ve seen and heard a lot of shit, but that bitch was an absolute sadist. After Kathy graduated she married the first guy she could find just to get away from that professor. The professor wouldn’t let Kathy off so easily and basically stalked her in New York. Kathy transferred here because she was ashamed of what she had done to deceive everyone in not only concealing she was a lesbian, but also ashamed that she enjoyed being a masochistic submissive.”
Steven was stunned. “Oh my God! That’s incredible. I had no idea…"
“If she hadn’t had that separate session, I don’t think I would have figured it out either. She is emotionally scarred, Steven. Someone has to report that woman,” said Mistress Wildfire. “Nobody is going to take my word, and I don’t want Kathy to go through something that traumatic. She’s been through enough.”
“I can try to find some people in New York to help. I have a couple of college classmates who have connections with the Attorney General’s office and the Department of Education. Even then, there may not be anything I can do if Kathy is required to testify. Maybe treat her as an anonymous informant, but if it comes out publicly, her life and her career will be damaged,” Steven said.
“I just don’t want to sit on my hands and do nothing after this.”
“I’m going to have to talk to Kathy about this. She’s kept it out of our private sessions, so I have to be careful about what you revealed to me,” Steven replied.”Mistress Wildf…”
“At this point, we can skip the ‘Mistress Wildfire’. Just call me Monica,” she responded.
“OK…Monica. I’ll do whatever I can to help her. This is going to be a shock to Ian and quite frankly, it’s not going to end well for them as a couple.”
“I hate to say it, but… she wants to continue as a client on her own.”
“That is not a good idea.”
“But it is serving her needs. I mean, if you think I should stop I can cancel. But when I was dominating her, she seemed… happy. She went into subspace fast and when I stopped, that’s when she got into a crying fit. Do you really think that cutting her off like that is helpful?”
Steven pondered this last bit of information. Kathy was traumatized, but was it a good idea to stop so abruptly? She might instead think that she was not even fit for a professional domme, and that might be more harm than good.
“Let’s take it slow then,” Steven said, “Let’s both work to get her in a state of mind where she won’t be afraid of admitting her feelings and her needs. I’ll address the standard therapy side and you accommodate her other emotional needs.”
Monica agreed and as weeks passed, Kathy came out of her denial of her sexuality and submissive needs. Ian to say the least, could not comprehend what had gone on. He divorced her and left town. Steven, while sad that he could not save their marriage, understood that this was a situation that was well beyond any possible help.
It was some time later that the professor had quietly resigned from her position at the college, and was given a plea deal for three-years probation and giving up her certification to teach. It was not a satisfactory outcome, but if the anonymous source had not come forward, other students would have been victimized.
Kathy continued sessions with Mistress Wildfire, but she had to do these during the day as she was promoted to the ten o’clock news hour.
Simon and Rachel –
Monica was expecting that Simon would be the dominant partner, as he appeared to be at first taking the lead when they appeared at her studio. Rachel was more sedate and shifted herself from side to side as a sign of nervousness. Here she decided that the roles should be reversed.
She looked at both of them and simply said “Strip!” Slowly both of them removed their clothes.
“All the way. I want you both buck naked!” she shouted. “NOW!”
Simon had finished first and stood in the middle of the reception room, his clothes piled at his feet.
“On your knees!” said Monica. Simon knelt down. Rachel had finished undressing and began to kneel as well. “Not you, honey. Go over to the sideboard, open the top drawer and bring out the contents.”
Rachel did as she was told and opened the drawer. She withdrew the objects within it, and showed it to Mistress Wildfire.
“You see what they are. Take the handcuffs and secure his hands behind his back. Then take the ankle cuffs and snap those on as well.”
Rachel took Simon’s hands and cuffed them tightly.
“Not too tight, honey. He needs a little circulation. Use the key to loosen them, then double lock them so they won’t accidentally tighten. Do the same to the ankle cuffs.”
In a few minutes Simon has securely cuffed. Monica handed Rachel the stiff posture collar. “Put it on him,” she said. Rachel eagerly did so.
“Now, you need to look the part. Come with me," Monica took Rachel by the hand and took her out of the room. “Don’t you dare move,” she added.
Simon waited kneeling on the floor. Fifteen minutes had gone by. His knees were getting sore and he wanted to move around. Monica peeked around the corner. “Don’t even think it,” she said and went back behind the corner.
The pain in his knees was now intense and he squirmed in near anguish.
Simon heard footsteps and looked up. Standing in front of him was Rachel, but not the Rachel he knew. Gone was the plain looking woman and before him was a dominatrix in leather. She wore a black leather corset and motorcycle jacket. Thigh-high stiletto boots were on her legs and a pair of heavy black leather gloves on her hands. She was holding a large wooden paddle in her left hand. On the paddle was the word “BITCH”.
“Like it?” asked Rachel. Simon tried to say something. “Shut up!” she shouted and walked up to him and grabbed him by the hair. “You talk way too much.” What Simon did not see right away was the penis gag in her right hand. She pulled his head back and as he tried to cry out in pain, she shoved the gag straight into his mouth. She buckled it tight and he shook his head trying to loosen it.
“Now put your head down and your ass up!” she ordered. Simon quickly lowered his head and raised up his rear.
“Now then, we are going to play a little game of ‘Payback’. For each inconvenience you gave me today, I’m going to give you one stroke of this paddle. Ready?” she asked. Simon shook his head ‘No’.
“Too bad,” she replied. “This is for leaving the toilet seat up this morning” WHAM!
“This is for taking the last English Muffin and not telling me.” WHAM!
“This is for …” WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
Rachel was breathing hard. “Jesus, this is tougher than it looks,” she said to Monica.
“Just takes a little practice. Look how nice and red his rear is getting.” said Monica.
“Should I stop?”
“Hold off for a bit so you both can catch your breaths. Give him five more and we’ll call it a night," Monica replied.
“Already?” asked Rachel. “I got plenty of things to get out of my system.”
“I’d save them for next time. If you want a next time.”
“Sure do!” said Rachel. Simon looked at her with fear in his eyes.
“Good! I have a lot more toys you can try out. In fact, let’s make it a two hour session next time. I can also show you how to use the humbler and the arm binder you were interested in trying," Monica said.
“We have time next Tuesday afternoon," Rachel replied.
Monica looked at her phone. “OK. Tuesday at 2:00?”
Rachel replied. “Sounds good to me. So, where were we? Oh yes. This is for not bringing home milk today!” WHAM!
“This is…" WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
WHAM!
Max and Fiona –
As Mistress Wildfire, Monica had plenty of experience with handling submissives, and like Simon and Rachel, couples who had one as a sub and one as dom. She had those who would switch, but, having both strictly submissive was a bit of a problem. Not that she couldn’t handle them both, as they were very easy to control, but it was being able to have them equally share the experience and not shortchange either one. Too much with one and the other starts whining. Like having two kids after the same toy. Tie one in a hogtie, and the one in the stocks acts as if they were being ignored. This wasn’t a day-care center. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time she had to change a diaper or bottle feed.
She decided that if it was discipline they wanted, discipline they would get. Both would be punished if either would fail or complain.
Her solution was not necessarily unique, but it would make them understand that neither one was going to get more attention than the other. It was one such session that she had them strip off, gag themselves and then go to the suspension room. There, her new device had been installed. Simple and straightforward. A complex system of pulleys, weights and ropes had been attached to the ceiling. Taking her arm binders, she fitted Fiona with one and attached a rope to the D ring at the end. Monica pulled on the rope, forcing Fiona’s arms up and behind her. A box had been placed on the floor under one of the pulleys. Now she took Max’s arms, secured those in a binder and also forced them up towards the ceiling.
“Step up on the boxes,” she ordered. Both complied. They were almost back to back. Monica took hold of a crank and began to pull their arms up higher. Walking over to Fiona, she kicked the box out from under her. Fiona was now in a strappado, standing on her toes. Monica did the same to Max and he also had his arms pulled back and up. Then going over to a lever, Monica pulled a lever. The individual ropes on the two subs were now attached to each other. If Max pulled his arms down, then Fiona’s would be pulled up higher. As long as they both stayed perfectly still and did not struggle, the tension on each others’ arms would be the same.
“So now, you are being treated equally. No more selfishness," Monica taunted. She went to a cabinet and removed two sets of weighted nipple clamps. She took hold of Fiona’s left nipple, applied the clamp and then allowed the eight to drop. The same with the right nipple. Fiona moaned as the four ounce weights caused the clamps to bite down hard. Max didn’t take it as well as Fiona. He screamed into the gag and tried to pull on the armbinder. That of course, forced Fiona’s arms higher.
Monica pulled out a riding crop from her rack. Taking the crop, she lightly tapped Max’s rear and then Fiona’s. “It is now share and share alike. Do you understand me?” Both submissives shook their heads ‘Yes’. Monica watched them try to remain still as the tension on their arms and the pain in their toes continued. Then when it appeared that Fiona would succumb to the pain and collapse, Monica pulled another lever and the two armbinders were lowered to the floor.
Once freed, the two kneeled on the floor and thanked Mistress Wildfire for the intense session. Monica didn’t know if it was the thrill of watching them grovel, or just that she was curious, but she decided to try something she hadn’t done before as a test of their submission.
“Slaves, show me your devotion. I want you to service each other orally, right now,” she ordered.
Max and Fiona quickly changed positions. Max began licking Fiona’s clit, while Fiona took Max’s cock in her mouth. Soon they were going at each other like there was no tomorrow. Monica watched and felt that maybe she had crossed the line. But it wasn’t as if she was participating herself. However, she stopped them and told them the session was over before they realized that she was starting to get a little wet herself.
Part 5 - Happy Holidays
It was near the end of November and Steven was going over his files and notes for a year-end review. He was planning on taking a ski trip to Wyoming as year end was pretty much clear except for a couple of patients who he could easily reschedule. Thanksgiving was tomorrow and he usually spent it alone. His phone rang. He looked at the time: 3:30 PM. Then he saw the number and the name: Mistress Wildfire.
“Hello. You work on holidays too?” he asked jokingly.
“I really need your help,” said Monica.
“Something wrong?”
“I don’t want to ask you, but I have no one else to call now.”
“Are you in trouble? You need medical help?”
“No, not that kind. Nothing remotely like that. It’s a client issue.”
“What kind of client issue?”
“I’ve got a very lucrative client who wants something…unique. He comes at this time every year and he pays, well a hell of a lot. “
“You want me to… join in…”
“No, no. I need someone to stand by as a precaution. The guy is three times my size and I have no one to watch my back.”
“What about Diamond?”
“Her kid and husband are sick. It’s that flu bug. It’s knocked out a couple of my other friends as well. Being that it’s Thanksgiving, I have no one else I can call.”
“You’ll have to reschedule.”
“I can’t. He is in town for only today. I won’t see him until next year, if he still wants to come. He pays five grand, and that I can’t afford to lose.”
Steven paused. He felt bad for Monica, but this was really crossing the line between the two of them. “I really can’t, Monica. I wouldn’t know what to do or say and it’s really, really, weird for me to do this.”
“Please Steven. I’ve never asked you for a favor, and I have gotten referrals to you for your practice,” she pleaded.
Steven admitted, while totally out of the norm, Monica did manage to refer him to some of her clients who were actually in need of his services.
“OK. I’ll be there. What time do you need me?”
“I need you at 5:30.”
“I can come now if you want," Steven replied.
“Yes, but would you do me another favor and stop by that grocery store near my place? I have an order to be picked up and the delivery guy is way behind schedule,” she asked.
Grocery store? Steven thought. “Uh, sure.” He replied.
“Thanks ever so much. I owe you big time,” she replied and the call ended.
At the store Steven asked for Monica’s order. The clerk looked at Steven as he handed him a large box.
“OK, four boxes of stuffing, one Cortland apple, six large cans of turkey gravy, cucumber, five boxes of instant potatoes and three piping bags. Oh, and one apple pie,” said the clerk.
“How much?” Steven asked.
“Already paid for. Must be a big party.” The clerk said.
“Must be," Steven took the box and headed to Monica’s studio.
He arrived at the studio and Monica quickly let him in. “Yes, everything’s here. Put your coat in the closet…no not that one. That’s the isolation closet, remember?”
Steven put away his coat and headed to the back of the studio, where the security section was. On a folding table there was a large slow cooker and an electric mixer.
“Hurry, open up the cans and dump them in the pot," Monica said. “Watch it, it’s hot," Steven opened up the cans of turkey gravy and poured the contents in.
“Can you start the mixer and get the potatoes ready?” she asked.
Steven was puzzled. “Did you invite me to Thanksgiving Dinner? Where’s the turkey?”
“It’s on its way. We got until 7:00,” she replied.
Steven did as asked, and soon the odor of turkey gravy was in the air. The mixer was whipping up the potatoes and Monica prepared the piping bags.
“OK, we can leave things alone for a while. I’ll need you in the back room.”
Steven followed Monica to a storage room where she pointed to a large, wheeled cart which had a chrome metal tray fastened to it.
“Just push that out into the Cage Room. Don’t forget the clamps,” she said.
Steven found eight U-shaped clamps which appeared to be able to be bolted to the chrome tray. He took the cart and tray out to the cage Room and set it up in the middle.
Monica looked around. “Ok,everything in place,” she looked at her phone and checked the time. “Good. About a half hour. Time to get changed.”
“Changed?” Steve asked. “To what? You aren’t asking me to…"
“You got to look the part. It’ll spoil the effect if you are dressed in khakis and a polo shirt,” she said. “Let’s find you something that won’t be too much, but it’ll set the mood.”
Monica took him to another room where there was a rack of fetish clothing. She looked at Steven and then started going through the outfits on the rack.
“No…No…No way…Too small,” she smiled at Steven. “This one will show your ass maybe a little too much.”
“Monica, just stop messing about," Steven said.
“No, that one’s going to be a little too tight. You’ll be singing in a falsetto wearing that. Oh, OK. I got just the thing. Here try this on,” she held out a hanger with an outfit on it. “It’ll cover but accentuate your equipment.”
Steven looked at the outfit. “Rubber? Are you kidding me?”
“I got talc and lube. You’ll slip into that thing without any problem,” she said.
“I’m only doing this because you needed a favor. Don’t press things any further.” He then looked at her. “Are you going to give me a little privacy?”
“Oh, alright…” she said and left him to strip and put on the outfit.
When he opened the door to the changing room, Monica stared at him. God, she thought, he has a great bod! The rubber suit was tight and indeed, accentuated his body, including his genitals and rear.
Steven felt ridiculous. “I don’t care for this,” he said “Look at me.”
“I am. Wow," Monica said. Steven looked at her with annoyance. “Hey, it’s just this once and as I said, you just need to be in the background.”
Steven moved around to make the suit fit a little better. Monica went back inside the room and returned with a spray bottle and a cloth. “Hold still,” she said and she sprayed the suit and then started spreading the contents with a cloth. “It looks much better polished.”
The suit was now very shiny and Steven was even more conscious of how it looked on him.
Suddenly the doorbell rang. “OK, he’s here. Just stand in the back of the reception room and don’t say a word.” Monica went to the door and at the entry was a man in a business suit. He was overweight and balding. He held out a bag, offering it to Mistress Wildfire. She looked inside and said, “I forgot all about this,” and removed a large can of jellied cranberry sauce from the bag. She walked to the back room with the can.
The man entered the room, and looked at Steven, then averted his eyes towards the floor.
Monica returned. “You can strip now.” The man hesitated. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just here to make sure you enjoy your holiday,” she said.
The man stripped naked. Monica stepped behind him and pushed him towards the Cage Room. Steven followed. In the room Monica ordered the man to get up on the chrome tray. He did as he was told. He placed himself on all fours, while Monica took the clamps and bolted his wrists, ankles, forearms and just below his knees to the tray. She gave him a hard slap to his ass and the man flinched but could not otherwise move.
She left the room and soon brought out the piping bags and the mixing bowl of instant potatoes. She filled the bags and then she walked up to the man on the tray. She took the piping bags and began squirting the potatoes onto the man’s back, rear and head. “Good thing I took that cake decorating course," Monica joked to Steven as she used up every bit of the potatoes.
Next, she took the apple and brought it up to the man’s mouth. “Now, you DID clean yourself out today, didn’t you? Otherwise, I’m going to be pretty pissed off.” The man nodded ‘Yes’ and Monica shoved the apple into his mouth and pushed on his jaws to ensure he couldn’t spit it out.
Once again, she left the room and returned with a bowl of stuffing. “Oh shit.’ Steven thought, “She’s not going to…”
Sure enough, Monica took the stuffing and began shoving it in his remaining cavity. She pushed and pushed, getting every morsel in there. She held the cucumber up to the man’s face, and as he looked in agony, she shoved half of it up his backside. Then she took the jellied cranberry sauce, sliced it up and decorated the tray.
“One last little thing,” she said as she brought out the liner of the slow cooker.
It was then that Steven recalled their first meeting. She had made a joke about a customer, but she wasn’t joking. He watched as she took her finger and sampled the gravy. “Hot, but not too hot, but who am I to judge?” she said. Taking a ladle, she filled it and came over to the man. She poured the hot gravy onto his back. He screamed. She continued to pour ladle after ladle until she had emptied the entire slow cooker. The man shook and jerked as the hot liquid completely covered him.
Eventually, the gravy had cooled and the man no longer struggled. Monica brought over the apple pie and placed it on the tray in front of his face. She pulled out the apple from his mouth. “Now little piggy, time for dessert. Eat it all up!” she taunted.
“You bitch!” the man screamed. “The gravy was too damned hot. I’m going to…”
Steven rushed up and began to shout at the man. “Listen you piece of shit! You’re not going to do one damn thing but eat your pie! When you eat up every stinking bit, you are going to thank Mistress Wildfire for a lovely Thanksgiving! Then once you are free, you are going to pay her every cent you agreed to, get dressed and get your fat ass and your puny cock out of here! If not, I’ll stick something else up your rear and it won’t be a Bananas Foster!”
The man shook and ate the pie, sticking his face into the pan. After finishing, he thanked Mistress Wildfire. He was then freed from the tray and she collected her five thousand in cash. Nothing further was said as he left the studio and down the stairs to the street entry. Drips of turkey gravy followed him out the door.
Monica looked at Steven. “’It won’t be a Bananas Foster!’?” she laughed. “Where did you get THAT one?”
Steven looked at Monica sheepishly. “I have no idea. It was something on the spur of the moment.”
They both started laughing as the absurdity of the events was realized. Monica gave Steven a long hug. Then she backed off, realizing that she was being way too forward.
“It’s getting late. Let’s get this place cleaned up. I don’t want to leave it until tomorrow. I won’t be able to get the smell out for a couple of days,” she said.
Steven rolled the cart to the back where there was a tiled area and a hose with a spray attachment. He hosed down the tray and cart and let them dry. Monica had taken a mop and wiped down the floors and anywhere gravy had spilt. She then disinfected where she cleaned.
“Are you finished?” she asked him.
“All done. Anything else you need me to do?” he asked.
“No. I’ve already washed out the cooker. Just the rest of the kitchen stuff.”
“I can do the rest. No problem,” he replied.
“Hmm, That’s nice. I haven’t had a totally domesticated man for a while.”
Steve finished with the remaining appliances and dishware. He dried and put everything away. He checked to make sure nothing was missed.
“Well, all done. Just let me get out of this thing,” he said.
“It’s going to be a bitch getting out of it, and… well. You’re probably hot, sweaty and frankly I’d bet you’re pooped and just want to get home,” she replied. “Take it with you, wash it out and bring it back sometime next week. Put your street clothes on over it and nobody will be the wiser.”
Steven was already feeling weird wearing the suit, but he was tired and he needed to wind down after this. “Do I need to powder it too?” he asked.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” she said, “Simple talc will do. Thanks for reminding me.”
They dressed in their street clothes and left the studio through the rear entrance. He escorted her to her car, and she drove off. Steven returned home and undressed except for the rubber suit. He lay on his bed and began to caress himself. He ran his hands up and down his rubber encased body, and soon was stroking his very hard cock until he came… hard.
It was weeks later that Steven had returned from his Wyoming trip. Another message from Mistress Wildfire had been texted, saying she was out of town but would be back by Christmas Eve. She wanted to go over a couple of sessions with his patients, as she hadn’t given him an update since November. He then asked if she just wanted him to act as backup again. She responded, promising that she hadn’t scheduled anything from the 24th through the 28th. She had just recently hired a new, additional assistant, so there would no longer be any need for him to help out. Steven felt relieved and agreed to show up for an hour or so, as he had no plans.
At the studio, he was greeted by Diamond, who had a gleam in her eye. “Happy Holidays, Doc,” she said. “I’m just heading home. Big day tomorrow.”
“Where’s Monica?” he asked.
“She’s in the Cage Room. She’s wrapped up your present,” she said, smiling broadly.
“That was nice, but she didn’t…”
“Hey! You got her out of a jam, and at the last minute too.” Diamond replied, “She felt she had to do something for all your trouble.” With that she put on her coat and left through the back door.
Steven sat down and waited for Monica to appear. After a minute he called out. “Monica. It’s me.”
From the Cage Room came Monica’s voice. “About time you said something. Come here and help me with your present.”
“Help with the present?” Steven though. He got up and headed into the Cage Room.
There on the bed, Monica had been tied spread-eagled. She was nude, except for a wide leather collar around her neck.
“Merry Christmas, Steven!” she exclaimed. Steven stood there stunned. Monica was a beautiful woman and seeing her helpless like this was, as strange as it seemed, was incredibly arousing. She was a very strong, independent woman, and she purposely chose to submit to him.
“Well, I am surprised," Steven said as he approached the bed. He checked the restraints. Making sure that they indeed were very secure. “I take it that’s why Diamond was here.”
“Yep, just in case you got cold feet, or figured out I wasn’t being entirely truthful to you. Once anyone is in these things, you need help getting out,” she replied. “You like? I mean I could have added a bow and some ribbon.”
Steven began undressing and in a matter of seconds was nude. He placed a condom on his stiff member and he approached Monica and gave her a soft kiss on her neck. “Something else is needed.” He said. He went over to one of the cabinets and took something out. Monica couldn’t tell what he had until he held it in front of her face.
“Open up.” he said. She opened her mouth and Steven pushed the ball gag into it. He pulled the rubber strap around her head, tight enough to hold the ball in her mouth and made sure it couldn’t be pushed out by her.
She laid on the bed excited and starting to get horny. Steven resumed kissing her neck and began to slowly go down her body. Monica squirmed as his tongue went over her nipples and his mouth sucked them slowly. He continued down to her stomach and finally settled at her pussy. He slowly began to lick the outside all the way around. Monica moaned into the gag as he began to lick every inch of her. From her outer lips to her clit. Over and over he went and she began to shake as she was approaching orgasm.
Then he stopped. She was moaning louder trying to say “Don’t stop!” but of course unable to do that. He pulled the ball out of her mouth and rested it on her chin.
“Oh God, Steven…FUCK ME! FUCK ME HARD!” she cried. Steven placed the ball back into her mouth and placed his lips to her ear.
“No,” he whispered.
Monica screamed into the gag again, as he resumed pleasuring her clit. He repeatedly brought her to the edge, only to stop short of her cumming. She began crying as he continued this for nearly an hour. Getting her nearly to climax, but never letting her reach it. To her, it was torture as he brought her to the point where she thought he would take pity on her and let her cum, but he denied her that pleasure.
He finally ceased his teasing, and removed the gag and released her from the restraints. She curled up in a fetal position, panting and whimpering. Steven then pushed her onto her back and slowly entered her. He began to slowly fuck her. He went in a little more with each thrust, increasing speed and force. Monica looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please let me cum now!” she wanted to say, but she was breathing too heavily to make any kind of articulate sounds.
He thrust himself all the way in her as he watched her weakly try to respond. The pleasure was building inside her again, until Steven tensed up and came. He continued thrusting until Monica, overcome by the relentless pleasure, was overcome by an orgasm the likes she never imagined she would ever feel.
Steven smiled and looked at Mistress Wildfire the Dominatrix, who was now lying on the bed like a rag doll. He rose from the bed and brought out a glass of juice. He placed the glass up to her lips and she swallowed. After a few minutes she propped herself up on the bed. “Oh, my God. That was…fucking fantastic! Where the hell did you learn how to do that? “
Stephen smiled again. “Did you think as an academic, I didn’t have much experience in this? When I graduated there was nothing within the Hippocratic Oath which included an Oath of Celibacy.”
“I don’t think…I can’t do this anymore tonight,” she panted and slowly rolled off the bed. Steven helped her up and guided her to the washroom to clean up.
“Merry Christmas,” Steven said.
Monica looked at him. “I swear I’ll be walking bow-legged for at least a week.”
“Then New Year’s Eve is out of the question?” Steven teased.
“Only if you let me top.”
“Hmmm, sounds interesting. I’ll think about it. It’s probably the least I can do.”
Monica didn’t bother to respond. She was just too tired.
Part 6 – Spring Ritual
Although that night was one neither one could forget, and the following week was just as intense, with Monica giving Steven not only a detailed education in the workings of her studio, but she surprisingly had him willing to let her peg him with a strap-on dildo. Now she was conflicted with her wanting her independence with her studio, but her growing feelings for Steven. She had wondered if the original business arrangement should have stayed in place. Their two worlds were intermixing and she wasn’t sure that it was the best thing for either of them.
Steven also wondered if he and Monica would have had the same attraction if she had been anything other than Mistress Wildfire. It had been seen in similar cases with a few of his patients, although this was a lot more bizarre of a situation. There were several papers and books written on the subject, but then he decided that trying to analyze and decipher their relationship was the wrong approach. They had sex more than once, but neither one of them expressed any emotional attachment. It was better to spend time apart, rather than force the issue in one direction or the other.
It was somewhat fortunate that both of their schedules were becoming harder to reconcile. He had lost a few couples, but he picked up several more. So much so that he started looking for other therapists to join him in a partnership. Monica had also increased in the number of clients from Steven as well from the outside, even with her new assistant taking some of the load. Meetings between the both of them during this time, were ironically, confined to Steven’s patients and her activities.
It was around early May that Steven received a call from Monica.
“Hi there. How are you doing?” she asked.
Steven knew by now that she wouldn’t be calling directly if there wasn’t another favor to ask. “I take it you are in a spot.”
“Yes, but it’s not concerning my studio. It’s personal,” she replied.
“OK, I’m listening.”
“What are you doing on the 18th of this month?” she asked.
“Nothing special. I have a meeting with a potential partner on the 19th, so I can’t be doing anything that would keep me away from that.”
“I …I have to go to my cousin’s wedding on the North Shore and …I need a date. If I don’t have one my mom is going to be on my back for the rest of the year, and I mean it.”
Steven was stunned. Monica had never even suggested a more personal and public relationship. “This is a bit out of the blue. You sure know how to get yourself into a fix.”
“It’s one of those family things. She’s trying to get me to date guys I have no interest in. If I show up with someone who doesn’t appear to be a loser in her eyes, she’ll leave me alone for a while. A single doctor will certainly do the trick.”
Steven worked to suppress his laughter. Mistress Wildfire, tough as nails Dominatrix, was afraid of her own mother sticking herself into her daughter’s love life.
“Steven, are you laughing?” Monica asked. He remained silent and then said “Yep.”
“Asshole!” she shouted, and disconnected.
He waited about a half hour and called her. “Would you like to talk now?”
“Are you going to help me or not?”
“Even though it is against my better judgment, and you called me an ‘asshole’?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I will be happy to let your mother think we are a couple. I take it you have never told her what you do for a living?”
“What do you think? She’d have a heart attack. No, two heart attacks. One if she finds out we are not dating, and the other if she finds out I’m not working for a private art collector.”
“OK. What’s the dress code and when do I pick you up?”
“Business attire will do. I’ll pick you up. It’s easier for me since I know the shortcuts to get there.”
“OK… I’ll be at the front of my building, and appropriately dressed. Although I picked up a couple of rubber and leather things since we last got together.” He replied.
“Oh, funny…I thought I was the one good at punching peoples’ buttons. I now defer to the new champion,” she retorted.
Promptly on the morning of the 18th, Monica met Steven in front of his condo building and the two drove north.
“While we are on the way, you never told me much about yourself. I still don’t know how you got into this business.’ Steven said.
“Really, you want my life story at this time?” Monica replied. “OK, condensed version here. I had my Master’s degree in Fine Arts, specializing in…”
“Early 20th Century Impressionists," Steven said. “I remember how you answered those questions so easily. I figured you had some background in art.”
“If I may continue, I had a job with the Art Institute. Unfortunately, a year after I was hired, there were budget cuts. That meant layoffs and I was one of the ones who got canned. I was out of work for about three months, getting behind on my loan payments, etc. I found a shitty job with an art supply store, but it barely paid for my expenses. One day I was waiting for a bus and talking to a job recruiter on my phone, when he told me I was overqualified for just about everything, and the best he could do was as an office assistant at a local community college. After I hung up, a lady next to me said that I had an interesting voice and she gave me a card.”
“Very fortunate for you," Steven said.
“Turned out that it was for one of those 900 numbers. They wanted women who could get suckers to pay an outlandish amount of money just to talk dirty to them.”
“A phone sex line…Interesting.”
“The lady told me how much I could make. But the kicker was that the big moneymaker was for their S&M line. They needed someone who could keep these guys calling back and staying on the line for long periods of time. When I raised my voice to that recruiter, she said I had a real fire and would be perfect, and I’d get an even bigger cut.”
“That’s when you became Mistress Wildfire?” he asked.
“No, that came later. I was first called Lola Whiplash. Don’t laugh, it’s true. I racked up hundreds of hours as a phone domme. Then I realized that there was more money in going on my own as a dominatrix. I didn’t have any experience of course, but one of the gals I worked with knew a local who wanted a helper. So, I started my apprenticeship with a dungeon in Logan Park. In time, I had learned the ropes, figuratively and literally. I picked up all the ins and outs of the business end and eventually went out on my own.”
“And the Mistress Wildfire name?” he asked.
“At first, I was Lady Sabrina. And then one day I heard that one old song on the radio. I liked the title, so I assumed the name," Monica said. “Now have I satisfied your curiosity?”
“More than enough. How are you going to explain how we met and all that usual couples detailed information that your mom is going to interrogate you on?”
“We met at a gallery. We went to dinner, the beach, etc. and we are still working on it.”
“That’s not going to satisfy her.”
“I’m not worried about that. Knowing her she is going to pump as much information out of you regarding your job, future plans and so forth.”
“The ‘prospective son-in-law’ treatment,” he said. “Luckily, I have enough stories to keep her occupied.”
After an hour’s drive, they arrived at the wedding venue.
“Where’s the church?” Steven asked.
“Not a church. It’s over there," Monica pointed to a building with a Star of David on it. “Yeah, I’m Jewish. Not really practicing, but again, don’t let my mom know.”
The wedding was being held outdoors in a garden next to the temple. Monica and Steven were met by her mother who, as Monica thought, began an intense conversation and third-degree with Steven. As the ceremony started taking place, Monica looked over at the couple. And then her face turned pale.
“Oh shit,” she said softly.
“What’s the matter?” Steven asked.
“It’s the Rabbi who is officiating.”
Steven looked at the man. “Oh shit, that's right,” he added.
The Rabbi was Steven and Monica’s client: Simon. Rachel was seated nearby.
“Why didn’t you tell me he was a Rabbi? “ she whispered.
“I didn’t think it was important enough.”
“Not important? The second this is over, we have to get out of here.”
Monica’s mother leaned over “Can you wait until after this to have your argument?” she said.
“It’s not an argument Mom. Steven got texted. He’s…he’s got an emergency with a patient.”
“Well, just try to not be so obvious that you’re leaving. I’ll make apologies to the family for you.”
Monica and Steven kept their heads down, hoping that neither Simon or Rachel would spot them. They left as soon as possibly could. On the way back, they both agreed that they would never bring up what they saw to their clients, as it would be embarrassing for all concerned.
Part 7 – Business is Business
After the near disaster at the wedding, it was business as usual for both Steven and Monica. Steven had successfully formed a partnership with two excellent therapists, and they purchased a professional building that gave them opportunities to lease to others or expand their practice.
Monica had extended her studio’s hours until it was running nearly seven days a week. She also added still another assistant to handle the overflow. Steven was somehow gaining a reputation as an expert on BDSM relationships, and had written a paper on the subject. He was first a bit put off at the nickname his peers gave him ‘The Kinky Shrinky’, but he adapted as he gained more patients and referred them to Monica.
They had met for their regularly scheduled meeting where they would exchange notes regarding her sessions. It was at one of these meetings that Monica showed Steven a recording of Max and Fiona, being attended to by her assistant she had hired last year. Steven was only mildly interested in the activities, as he had seen them multiple times before and this session appeared to be no different. Then he looked at the assistant again.
“Monica, what was the name of your helper?” he asked.
“Calls himself ‘Susy Whiplash’. Not very imaginative," Monica replied “But a great help to me in the studio. Really enjoys his work.”
“His work? OK, this is a guy?”
“My, my. Not a very enlightened attitude in this day and age.”
Steven looked intently at ‘Susy Whiplash’. He recognized this person was Lee, the patient who separately asked him questions about Mistress Wildfire. “What the hell…” he muttered.
“What are you talking about?” Monica asked.
“This is an ex-patient of mine. He and his wife stopped coming to me a few weeks after the time you hired ‘Susy’. His wife’s name IS Susan. Can you get a close-up or a better angle at the face?”
Monica keyed in some instructions into the video player and soon ‘Susy’ appeared on the screen.
“He and his wife looked a bit alike, which is not entirely unusual as some people actually want to couple with those they are similar to, even in appearance. He’s wearing a wig in his wife’s same style. He’s wearing makeup to look exactly like her. He’s assumed her appearance and …shit, I guess has become her in some fashion.”
Steven advanced the video and unmuted the sound. ‘Susy’ was taunting and giving orders, and sounding almost like Susan, including her Georgia accent.
“Lee was an accountant who had been laid off for over eight months.”
“Well, that’s not so unusual, remember?” said Monica.
“His wife was already the major breadwinner, and for the most part, the one who called a lot of the shots in their marriage. In his separate session with me, he admitted to feeling somewhat emasculated with this arrangement,” Steven continued. “When they stopped coming to me, Lee said he had found a new job and they said they had resolved their intimacy problems. In fact, she had recently become pregnant.”
“You’re not going to do anything with this, are you? “Monica asked.
“I don’t know. Professionally, it’s pretty interesting. In theory, he’s resolving his feelings of sexual and emotional inadequacy by assuming the identity of the dominant partner,” he said, as he intently watched ‘Susy’ dominate the couple.
“Steven,” Monica interrupted. “Drop it.”
“What do you mean, ‘drop it’? This is something that is pretty rare.” He replied, still watching ‘Susy’.
“I’m saying, I love you, but sometimes you need to stop analyzing and just let things slide,” she said, “Besides, ‘Susy’ is the best damn assistant I ever had, including Diamond. I don’t need you to use him as a lab rat, and then lose him.”
Steven thought about what Monica had said. Maybe it was better just to leave things as they are. Lee seemed content. Susan, his wife seemed to be OK, even though Lee may have lied about his real job, and did he really need to get involved with a non-patient? Then he realized what Monica had said.
“Did you just say…” and he turned around. Monica was now nude and was walking towards him. She sat down on his lap facing him. Her legs spread wide apart.
“Yes, I did. If you hadn’t figured it out by now…” and she kissed him full on the lips.
Steven and Monica kissed for several moments. “I wasn’t sure that I had the nerve to even try saying that to you," Steven replied. “But, I do.”
He noticed that Monica had snapped a handcuff on her left wrist. She placed her hands behind her back and Steven heard the sound of the other cuff clicking shut.
“These are German made. Standard keys don’t work on them. Now, does this give you any ideas?” she asked.
“Where’s the key?” he asked.
“Hidden away. That’s something you’ll have to make me tell you.”
“Young woman, you are going to need a good tongue-lashing.”
“God! I was hoping you’d say that,” she chuckled.