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The Psychosis of Submission

By: Couture



"I don't really understand how something that happened in high school can have anything to do with the way I'm feeling now?" Karen said while laying on the comfortable leather couch. She was slim and fit, her clothing was stylish and polished, and her brown hair was pulled back tightly and pinned out of the way. At twenty nine, she was a college graduate, enjoyed a successful career, and had a fiancee who adored her. Yet, despite it all, she felt depressed. Disconnected. It didn't make sense. She had achieved almost everything that should have brought about happiness, yet she still felt empty inside. Incomplete.

"So it makes you uncomfortable to talk about something that happened in high school? Even after all this time? Do you think that's normal?" Dr. Livingston said. The psychologist was forty-three, had blonde, well-styled hair, glasses, and was fond of pencil cut skirts and expensive shoes. She had a voice like honey. "Will you at least admit that?"

Karen examined what the psychologist said. Yes, just like always she had to admit the woman was right on all accounts. 

"It makes me uncomfortable. I can't explain it." Karen said as she unconsciously slid further into the safety of the leather couch. She had no idea how the topic of her senior year in high school came up, since she usually avoided it like the plague. "But still, I just don't see how it has any bearing now after all this time. But if you insist. I'll- I'll tell you what happened."

"I don't insist," Dr. Livingston said. "If you don't feel comfortable telling it, you don't have to. You'll know when you are far enough along."

Karen did feel uncomfortable. Dr. Livingston had hit the nail on the head. Karen had done her best to forget that year. Yet, now that it had been identified, she couldn't very well not tell it either. That would be admitting that it was the source of her problems. And it wasn't. Besides, it was so very long ago.

Ages... 

It all started back at a party in high school. It was at Susan's house. Susan's parents were rich and she was popular. A cheerleader.

Well, I was with my best friend Jenny...I guess you could call us nerds, but maybe that is too strong a term. We weren't really nerds. We just weren't ...popular.

But, anyway, Susan invited us to her party. That in itself was unexpected, since we were never invited anywhere. Of course, we were both very excited. Thrilled because it was our first after school party. We thought maybe, maybe this is the turning point. Maybe we were on our way to becoming popular. Having boyfriends. That sort of thing.

And it did end up being a turning point. Just not like I planned.

There was some drinking going on at the party. Of course, I didn't partake. To be honest we weren't even supposed to be there, we both sort of lied to our parents and said we were researching at the library. 

Things were uneventful for quite sometime. I sipped on a Pepsi, while Jenny did then same....only she was eating these little cups of jello that were sitting on a table like they were going out of style. Susan saw us standing against the wall in the living room and invited to the dining room to play a game with them.

The game was spin the bottle.

Jenny said sure and pulled me by the hand. I wasn't so sure it was such a good idea. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure we shouldn't play. We weren't ready yet. We didn't belong there. Not like these other confident and laughing girls.

While they laughed, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. My heart was pounding in my chest like a race horse. Pounding the whole time. Lisa spun first. The bottle landed on her boyfriend. They frenched. I felt...I felt like some sort of voyeur watching them. Seeing their tongues move into each other's mouths. Don't get me wrong, I had dreamt of doing this with a boy for quite some time. Had read trashy romance novels of the very thing. Though I was still scared, a new feeling began to blossom in my chest. Hope.

Could it be that my dreams were to become reality? Even so, I wasn't sure I was ready. 

I started to sweat. The boys around the table were hunks. Dreamy. They played on the football team and the tennis team. My God, and there I was - a nobody.

Until now, because this nobody was going to kiss one of them. I was thrilled and terrified at the same time.

What if I did it wrong? If I kissed too much would he get the wrong idea? If I didn't kiss enough, would he think me a wet fish?

It turned out I didn't have to worry about that at all.

It was my turn. With shaking fingers, I took the bottle and gave it a twist. I looked across the table and saw David., Pretty blonde David with his wavy hair and dimpled chin. Hunky David. I gave a silent prayer. Please let it be David. I willed it to stop on him. The bottle went round and round making a grating sound on the shiny tabletop.

So fast it spun. So long too. It didn't seem to go on as long for everyone else. Now time positively slowed as the bottle continued to make its rounds. Slower and slower. My heart thumped. Boom-boom-boom like a bass drum. I wondered why no one could here it.

The bottle kept going. It passed David...then me...slowed on Jenny...then finally came to a rest. 

It stopped on Susan. The felt my cheeks burn. Susan stuck out her tongue luridly and wiggled it at me.

"Come here and give me a kiss girly," she said. 

Dear God. What had I gotten myself into. I reached for the bottle again.

"Ah-ah-ah," Lisa said shaking a scolding finger. "If you want to spin again you have to take off something first. Both of you."

I took off my shoe and put it on the table. 

"No, shoes and socks count as one article," Lisa smiled. "You too Susan."

"But I didn't say no," Susan said. Grumbling she took off her flip-flops and put them on the table. I felt pressured into doing the same. After all, I was the one who said no. Still, I determined that soon - very soon I would find an excuse to stop playing this game. After I kissed David.

I spun again. This time my heart was pounding even more. My vision throbbed every time it hammered in my chest.

David would be okay. But so would Tony or Brian. The bottle slowed. Slower and slower. It was going to point at me. Maybe I could stop then? I surely couldn't kiss myself. But then slowly ever so slowly it kept going. Further and further. I felt an impending sense of dread. I tried to nudge it, to help it along with my mind. All to no avail. It landed on my very best friend. Jenny.

"Kiss-kiss-kiss," those gathered at the table urged. Then it wasn't just the table watching, but those in the living room as well.

My shirt would be next to go. But, it was only Jennifer. We drank and ate after one another. If I couldn't kiss her, who could I kiss?"

She was already taking her shoes off. 

"Jenny," I said. "Wait. I-I - it's only your shoes, but I'm - I'm in real trouble here."

"Sorry charlie," she shrugged, then picked up a cup of jello and popped it in her mouth. "Mmmmm - I sure like this jello!" 

Her voice was slow. Her eyes droopy. I took one of the cups of jello and sniffed it. Alcohol! Didn't she realize it had been spiked? 

"I don't want to play anymore," I said feeling betrayed by my so-called best friend. "I quit."

"Tough nookie said the cookie," Lisa smirked. "If you spin it and it lands on you, you can quit. Or you can find someone else to take your place."

"Anyone want to play?" I asked around, my face red with humiliation that I'd only lasted one spin. "Anyone at all?" There were no takers. 

I had no choice. I took off my sweater. I wish I could go back. Wish I could have been stronger , and had just taken off my sweater and tossed it in. That's how one of the other girls did it later. But, I went slowly. Awkwardly. My cheeks burned. I'm convinced the girls sensed my fear. My weakness. They smelled blood and pounced on it. 

"Look how skinny she is. You can see her ribs. How pasty white. And her bra. It looks old.. and cheap. Besides, I think there is more bra than anything for it to support."

God it was awful. The guys were there. The hunks heard every derogatory comment the haggle of harpies made. Even David. And he didn't defend me. Not once.

It took everything I had not to cry. I looked back to where I had stood against the wall. The wall provided safety. No one could sneak up on you with your back against wall. Oh how I wanted to be back there...just another wallflower to ignore. 

"Don't mind them...spin again," Lisa said.

"My hand shook visibly. If fumbled with the bottle. Almost knocking it from the table. I said a silent prayer and gave it another spin.

Immediately, I wished I hadn't spun so hard. Wished I could have just gotten it over with instead of watching it spin round and round. Round and round. The grating sound...rowr...rowr...rowr..as it spun. Making me grow more and more scared, until finally it came to a stop. What were the odds? One in a hundred - a million? It landed on Jenny again.

"She really wants to kiss you Jenny," Susan laughed. 

"Please Jenny," I whispered. But she was already reaching for her shirt. "Don't make me take anymore off. I'm begging you. It's - it's just a kiss."

"Well....okay," she said. "I guess so." She ate another jello shot. 

"Jenny, the jello is spiked...with alcohol. You should stop," I warned her, as I tried moving the tiny cups of jello out of her reach, but the other girls just laughed and sent some more her way just as fast as I could take them away. 

Jenny turned her head. She closed her eyes. Puckered up. She was obviously intoxicated.

I too puckered my lips. I moved in close. Touched mine to hers. Kissed her.

They booed around the table. I could hear Lisa saying to take off my bra. That it wasn't a kiss. Not a kiss at all.

"I'm not finished," I whispered, my cheeks burning with shame. God, could I do this? Could I? I would take off my pants before the bra anyway. But I didn't want to lose either. I kissed her then. Kissed my best friend. It wasn't a sweet kiss. Or chaste like the sort that friends give each other. I thought back to how Lisa had kissed Tony. I put my tongue in her mouth. I frenched her. My first french kiss ever was with a girl. With my very best friend. My cheeks burned crimson. I tasted orange and vodka from the jello shots she had been consuming. And she was so drunk she didn't even care. Just sat there with a stupid smile on her lips, wiping her mouth off with the back of her hand after, and slurping down another jello shot. 

Jenny took her turn next. Just reached out and spun the bottle. Knocked over a bag a pretzels to the floor and didn't even realize it. She pointed to David. A drunken digit leveled in his direction. She puckered her lip at him. Those odds. Those same odds that had killed me three times in a row. One in six. But to just point at David? To know in her drunken state that it would stop on him?

And then, guess what? It happened. When the bottle stopped, it was pointing right at him. And then Jenny. Drunk Jenny. My best friend Jenny. Swallowed another Jello shot and slid out of her chair. A big smile plastered on her face, and her...just as big a geek as me. Another girl who had never been kissed. Unless you count mine from moments ago. She sat down in David's lap. She took his head in her hands and planted one on him. I mean literally tried to see how far she could stick her tongue down his throat. Kissed him for what seemed like 5 minutes.

David - my David. Worse, he didn't seem to mind her precociousness one bit. Didn't even look at me after. Just looked at Jenny...seeing her as if for the first time, even though we'd been to school together since the 6th grade. He even grabbed her ass as she stumbled back to her chair.

"That's going to be a hard one to top," Susan said. Then gave the bottle a spin.

Then it slowed. Time seemed to stand still. It landed on me.

"I don't want to kiss you now." she said, and started with her shirt.

"Wait," I begged.

And then she made me beg even more. Begged to kiss her. Made me say that I wanted to. That she was pretty. With ice cream and cherries on top.

Yet after making me humiliate myself, in the end she still took off her shirt. Took it off with confidence. Took it off and tossed it on the table. Didn't even cross her arms over her well endowed chest.

My turn. I reached underneath the table. I was covered in sweat. I could feel the blood pound in my temples. I unbuttoned my jeans and slid down the zip. I swear the sound echoed throughout the room and even drowned out the music, because it seemed like all of a sudden that every eye was on me. I refused to look up, as I managed to shimmy out of them down while remaining seated and put them on the table. 

Susan smiled at me wickedly. "You better hope I don't get you again," she said, and gave it another spin. Thankfully, it didn't land on me this time. It was Tony she was to kiss. She smiled and kissed him like Jenny had kissed David. Only slapping Tony's hand when he tried to cop a feel.

The bottle was spun again and again. I had given up hope on kissing David. I only knew one thing, no matter who spun it, I didn't want it to land on me. Especially now, because the kisses where getting steamier and steamier. Worse, if I refused or they refused, I would be baring parts of my body that I wanted to keep covered. I wanted to go home. But I couldn't go without Jenny and she seemed in no hurry to leave.

It was my turn again. I gave the bottle a spin. Please land on me. Please land on me. But it didn't. It landed on Jenny once again.

"Goodie," she slurred seeing the bottle land in her direction. "Who spun the bottle? Was it you Davie?"

"Yes it was David," I lied. She was so drunk I couldn't take the chance with only my bra and panties remaining. She had already turned me down once before. "Now, close your eyes."

She giggled and crooked her finger at David. She was so drunk she had no idea. "Come and kiss me baby," she slurred. "This time, I've got a surprise for you."

She turned, and tilted her head up, a big smile painted on her plump lips. I felt guilty for lying to her. But it couldn't be helped. I couldn't risk a refusal. I stood up and moved close again. Touched my lips to hers. From experience I knew that I had to really kiss her, just like I did before. I tasted lime and vodka. I stuck my tongue into her mouth. Only this time, Jenny kissed me back. Her tongue danced with my own. She nibbled my lip. She sucked on my tongue. And then, I still shudder to think about it, she took my hand in her own and pushed it beneath her sweater. I tried to pull away, but she held it there - pushed it up under her bra.

My formerly shy best friend held my hand to her breast in hopes that I would grope her. 

And the kiss - it went on and on. It felt like hours. I could feel her nipple harden beneath my hand. Like a hard little nubbin. But it wasn't for me, it was supposed to have been David. I was the intruder. With blood pounding in my ears. My knees felt weak. I blushed, humiliated as I heard a collective 'wooooooo' from around the table. Then it was finally over. I sat back down in my chair leaving Jenny, eyes still closed, with a contented look on her face. I realized I was staring and quickly looked away.

"Did you enjoy it?"

"What?" I had forgotten where I was. And who I was talking to. 

"The kiss," Dr. Livingston said. "Did you enjoy kissing your friend."

"Of course not," I said. "I betrayed her trust. I lied to her. Not only that, but it was so humiliating kissing her in front of all those leering people."

"You describe it quite well," Dr. Livingston said. "It seemed to make an impression on you. But please continue."

I didn't like where Dr. Livingston was going with her question, so it was a struggle to continue. Because it got much worse after that. I was afraid the others would tell her that I was the one who had kissed her and not David. Looking back, I wish they had. Instead, they teased her and through her...me.

"How was the kiss Jenny?" Susan teased. "Was it better than the other?"

"Yes," Jenny giggled. "It was the best kiss ever. And Davie...did you like my surprise?" She ran her tongue over her lips and gave him a sly wink. Then she pulled her sweater taunt, exposing her hard nipples.

"I sure did," David laughed. "I can't wait for you to surprise me again."

"It's your turn," I told Jenny. Hoping to get this horrible game over with.

"No it isn't. Davie just spun," Jenny slurred. "Now it's your turn Karen."

"I just...." Damn. My lie had blown up in my face. But, I could lie again. She was drunk and would never know. "You're wrong Jenny. I went right after David while you were busy talking."

"No," Lisa said. "Jenny's right. David just spun. After all, she just kissed him. So there you have it. It's your turn Karen. Isn't that right everyone?"

They all agreed. I could feel my face flush and burn. I had to spin again. The lie...the betrayal...it had done me no good at all. I gave it a turn. Please land on me. Please land on me. Let this be over. I prayed. It wasn't even close. It was Susan again. How could it happen? What were the odds? Double damn.

"Do you want to kiss me Karen?" Susan teased. "I bet you want to kiss me something awful."

My face burned. "Yes." But I didn't. I just couldn't bare to lose any more of my clothes. Still, she made me beg again, pretty please, with ice cream and cherries on top. I did it knowing full well she would tell me no again. Yet she surprised me. She said yes. 

"What are you waiting for?" she said as she stood up waiting for me.

I didn't like Susan. For good reason. She had a mean streak. And right now that streak was directed at me - even though I had done nothing wrong. But at least she was going to let me kiss her. I wondered if she was doing it as a favor to me, or so she wouldn't have to take off her skirt.

God it was so embarrassing having to stand up. I had nothing on but my bra and panties. I knew my breasts weren't as nice as the other girls. I knew I didn't look as pretty. I walked over to her chair as quickly as possible before the derogatory comments could start. Susan turned her head. I turned mine. Our lips touched. 

I snuck my tongue into her mouth. It tasted of cigarettes. It wasn't as bad as I had imagined. Her hands moved along my back and shoulders. I was content to be close to her as it exposed less of my body to onlooking eyes. Finally the kiss was over. 

I moved to pull away, but to my horror, found that she had managed to undo my bra. I gave an shriek and quickly pressed my body tightly against hers to keep from being humiliated even further.

"If you want to keep the bra," she whispered. "You have to kiss me at least as good as you kissed your slutty little friend."

The bitch! She was holding me hostage. Damn it. There was no help for it. I didn't really think I had kissed Jenny all that well. After all, it was she who had been the aggressor. 

"I'm going to ask you to do something," Dr. Livingston said getting up from her seat. "You can say no at any time. I just want to explore this a bit. Are you wearing hose? No it doesn't look to be the case. I want you to sit down in this chair here in front of me."

This was highly unusual. Since our first session over a year ago, she'd always stayed in her chair while I lay down on the couch.

This time, she rolled an office chair from behind her desk over in front of her soft leather chair. I sat down in it trying to keep an open mind. Even though it wasn't as comfortable as the soft couch I was laying on before, and now I was forced to look at her directly while I talked.

"Very good," she said. "Now I want you to hook your legs over the arm rests."

"Excuse me?" I couldn't believe what she was asking. I wondered at the point. Mainly in whether she was asking me to do this for professional reasons.


The Psychosis of Submission



"You are uncomfortable," Dr. Livingston stated it as a fact. "And clearly not ready for this stage of treatment. You may go back to the couch now. It's no problem."

"Wait..." My voice shook. I hadn't realized her request was part of my treatment. I did want to be ready for the next step. If this was part of it. It made sense to go with it. I was paying $100 an hour.

"Like this?" I asked, as I propped a leg over each of the arm rests. I pressed the front of my skirt down to cover my crotch. It made no sense, but I did it.

"The point is to make you get in touch with your feelings that night. You were seated at the table... in the chair with no protection save a small bra and panties." Dr. Livingston warned. "I want you to get in touch with those feelings by generating a similar feeling of exposure. Now pull you skirt back out of the way.

I fingered the hem of my garment as I looked down. With my legs propped in such a fashion, my pelvis was pushed out and exposed. It would be quite a provocative pose...a pose not suited for proper girls. I raised the hem and made it a point not to look down. My shame was magnified by the fact that she was still perfectly dressed, while I on the other hand was quite exposed.

Vulnerable....

....like that night.

"Perfect," Dr. Livingston said. "Now, do you remember how you described your kiss with Susan? Put yourself there. The table is there in front of you. As are all the participants. Behind them are the onlookers. She's kissing you. Your hands are covering your breasts. What are hers doing? Now, I want you to pretend your hands are Susan's hands. What would they do if that were the case? Tell me what they are doing."

I was transported back to the party. I remembered more details. Susan was wearing a denim skirt. Its button felt cold against the bare skin of my abdomen. 

"Her hands...they are rubbing my shoulders...and she...she is kissing me."

"Relax. Now let her hands touch you. Give up control of your hands. They are Susan's hands now" Dr. Livingston said, her nostrils flaring as she watched her patient's hands cease trembling as they began to rub and tease. "Put your legs back Karen."

Even with her eyes closed, poor Karen could only imagine how perverted she looked being posed in such a fashion. She tried her best to maintain what little modesty she had left, but her hands...her hands seemed to have a mind of their own...and they were of the mind to tease her and display her in the most unseemly fashion imaginable.

"Slide forward a bit...wriggle on up there," Dr. Livingston urged. "Good...just a bit more. Perfect. Now, please go on with your story. You were just about to kiss Susan again. 

Poor Karen, with her cheeks aflame and her loins burning with fire, legs askew, her hands busy, rubbing, touching, tweaking, once again she relived that dreaded night....

"That night, I had no choice but to kiss Susan again. Otherwise, she would keep my bra and my breasts would be exposed to everyone. And I knew I was small...compared to the other girls. And you know how cruel kids can be.

It was...it was..good motivation.

Even though she was a girl and at that, not someone I even liked. I kissed her as best I could. Kissed her like Jenny had kissed me. I nibbled her lip. Oh God doctor, I still shudder thinking how I must have looked...I -I-even sucked her tongue. All the while I could feel her taking the thin straps of my bra down my arms, removing the cups from my small breasts.

I-I cupped my hands over them to keep them well hidden. And while I was able to keep them hidden from all the eager eyes from the all those people...it left her hands free to do as they would...free to roam over my ass. I was helpless to stop her without exposing my breasts. Her strong hands ...I can feel them even now...squeezing me possessively. And how my heart raced when I felt her fingers take hold of the elastic band and slowly ease it down. 

"Please don't," I whispered in her ear, molding my body to hers to keep her from stripping me further. "I'm begging you Susan. Don't do this."

Susan said nothing...just pulled gently at my panties. Moving them just a bit. An inch here and inch there. Exposing my crack and my bottom swell. She didn't strip me naked, but she showed me that she could if she chose to. And I think she liked holding that power over me. Liked how I would have to move my body so close to hers in order to keep from being exposed. Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, I was helpless to protect myself from whatever she wanted to do. 

And me? Oh doctor, I was so embarrassed. I wanted to hide. I couldn't believe how she had the audacity to do what she was doing. I mean even though she wasn't the one being exposed, she was the one touching me and doing the exposing. I would never have been able to do what she was doing with a boy - much less

....another girl.

Still I kissed her and let her kiss me as she willed. Her tongue probing my mouth. My lips. Her warm breath filling my lungs. Helpless. Standing there impotently with my hands held firmly over my small buds. My knees growing weak. 

"You say your knees grew weak," Dr. Livingston said. "I've kissed quite a number of times and my knees generally don't grow weak. Yet you say yours did. Why do you think that is? Were you enjoying being kissed by her or did you enjoy showing your body off to the others at the party. A bit of exhibitionism can be thrilling to some."

I could feel my cheeks burn. Dr. Livingston was jumping to the wrong conclusions again. "I can't ...I can't remember..." It felt like a lame excuse. 

"Look down Karen. Now tell me. Your knees. Are they weak now?"

I looked down at my knees, but my eyes widened in horror when they saw the state I was in. My hands. They had been busy. My nipples were visible, their hard nubs peaking over the top of my white bra. And my panties were bunched up in my slit. The center damp with my moisture. My hands flew down to provide myself with a measure of modesty.

"Not yet Karen," Dr. Livingston warned. "First tell me how you feel. I'm looking at you just like those people at the party were. I can see your breasts. I suppose you still feel inadequate? I can see by your blush that you do. And I can see most of your vagina. I can see that you are turned on. Aroused. How does this make you feel? Like that night? Are your knees weak? Would you like to stand up and give them a try?"

"I .... no..." It wouldn't be necessary. I could tell already. They were weak. Wobbly. What did it mean? "They ... are. ... weak.. oh doctor...I feel very...embarrassed."

"Feels inadequate...and embarrassed. Dr. Livingston said as she wrote in a notebook. "Aroused...weak at the knees."

I didn't say inadequate. Or aroused. I wanted to correct her. My cheeks burned. I did feel that way, but I never said it. And now it was written. In permanent ink. As much as I wished, I couldn't bring myself to correct her. Then looking at her, I realized just how attractive Dr. Livingston was.

"Now let the feeling wash over you," Dr. Livingston said. "You have to get in touch with these feelings in order to understand them. Now keep going with your story. And why are you hiding behind those hands? Who's hand did we agree that they were? Or have you forgotten already?"

"They are...they are...." They are Susan's hands. Think back to that night. Is there music playing? What was it? What are Susan's hands doing now?"

"The music was Wild Thing by Aerosmith. I felt myself transported. Susan's hands began to roam my slim body once again. I felt my cheeks burn. God how I wanted to cover myself. Yet Susan's hands wanted to expose me. To tease me up. Make me squirm in my chair. To humiliate myself in front of Dr. Livingston. But she was a doctor, it should be okay, otherwise she wouldn't have said to do this in the first place.

Still, it made me feel like a pervert.

A sexed up pervert. 

I couldn't fool myself anymore. That night my nipples had hardened. My sex had grown tingly. Just like in my therapist's office. And Susan's kisses, I hadn't just tolerated them, I enjoyed them. I had even had fantasies later though I never told anyone...not even my diary.

In my fantasies Susan had taken my panties down too. Had turned me around. Had exhibited me. Had humiliated me. Had rubbed my there in front of everyone. Made me moan. Made my slim hips thrust and pump. Made me ...

... made me cum.

But that wasn't what really happened. Because all that happened, was that just when she took hold of my pink cotton undergarments and pulled them away from my body and then down a few inches, and I was sure - so very sure she would take them down all the way, she stopped, and carefully put them back in place.

Her mouth pulled away from my own.

"That was a pretty good kiss," Susan said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "But I don't think it was as good as David's." And with that, she tossed my bra to the table. Jesus, I wouldn't even be able to get it without baring myself to the hungry stares looking at me.

"Are you ready to forfeit?" she asked. 

I had learned a little something during my time playing the game. If you don't know, ask questions. "What happens if I forfeit?"

"Nothing much," Susan said. "You just wait in a closet until the game is over." 

"No, make her wait here," Lisa said.

"She can wait wherever she wants," Susan replied.

"I'll wait in the closet," I said. "But what about my clothes?" 

"You get them when the game is over." Susan said. "However, the winner is allowed to keep any one item on the table. It could be yours - it could be someone else's."

"Last time I had to go home without my shoe," Tony laughed. 

"At least you got to keep your pants," Gwen said. "I was grounded for 2 years."

"She's kidding," Susan said. "No one has ever went home without their pants....yet."

The yet sounded ominous. However, I didn't want to be there anymore, especially on display as I was. Hungry eyes looking at my body. To spin again, I would have to move my hand. I couldn't do it. Couldn't bear it. Worse, I knew that I was turned on. Wet. It wouldn't be long before I soaked through my thin cotton panties. So I couldn't very well wait at the table either...it was the closet for me, and I was glad of it.

"Okay," I said. I didn't even argue that I had kissed her and by rights the bra was still mine. I knew there would be another turn and who knew what the fickle bottle would do. "I forfeit."

Susan took me away to another room. It was being used as an office. She pointed to a closet. "In you go." she said.

I stepped in. My mind raced. "Wait...what if someone comes in?" 

"Don't worry," Susan said. "Only I have the key."

"Okay..." I said quietly as I leaned against the back wall. It would do.

"What are you waiting for?" Susan said. "Take off your panties."

"I can't...." I was horrified at the prospect. I didn't want her to find out...besides.."I didn't lose them during the game..." I said. 

"You didn't want her to find what?" Dr. Livingston asked.

I could feel my cheeks grow warm. How was it that she could pick out the very thing I was most ashamed of her to take note of.

"That - that I had grown aroused during the game," I said, squirming in my chair. 

"From kissing her you mean? Or being stripped in public?" Dr. Livingston asked.

I didn't know the answer. "I guess, kissing her..." It sounded the least perverted.

"But you aren't kissing her now are you?" Dr. Livingston asked. 

"No.." I hated the thought of where this might be going.

"But you are aroused though aren't you. I suppose you took them off," Dr. Livingston said. "I want you to take them off now as well, your bra too. I want you to feel the way you felt that night. At least as close to it as we can get."

I stood up. My fingers touched my panties. Could I do this? Strip myself bare while my doctor sat clothed so professionally? But by then, God, I'd already had my thumbs hooked into the band of my panties. I couldn't very well back out now without losing even more face. Admitting that yes, I still had issues, just like when I was young. To save some degree of modesty, I turned around to disrobe.

"Ah...that's good," Dr. Livingston said. "Just toss them over there out of the way. Now, back in the chair. And where should your knees be? That's right, one over each armrest...I shouldn't have to keep reminding you.

And where did we leave off? Oh yes, I believe you were in the closet with your hands protecting your breasts. Susan had just asked for your panties... go ahead....please continue. "

******************

"Please turn around," I asked Susan. When she did, I quickly shimmied out of my panties. Slid them down my slim hips. Then I realized she was watching. One arm flew over my breasts and the other over my crotch. She quickly snatched them from my grasp.

"Somebody has been having fun," she smirked, rubbing the damp crotch. "Is this due to me ... or your little slut friend?"

"Nothing...it's not like that," I stammered.

Susan smiled knowingly. 

I burned with shame. I couldn't explain. Just stood silently as she closed the door of the utility closet and locked it.

Standing there in the dark. My mind was filled with forbidden thoughts. I fantasized about kissing Susan. Having to sneak from the party. Naked. Having to crawl from the house. From bush to bush. Hiding from headlights. From barking dogs. Having to go to a well lit area...the only way blend into the scenery....was to coat my body in mud. Dark mud all over my naked body. Sticking to me. Like my shame.

There in the closet, with my mind taken me to forbidden places...I did something I knew I shouldn't. I couldn't help myself. There in the dark....

......I touched myself.

My breasts at first. Tweaking my small hard pebbles. Squeezing my thighs together. I dare not go further. But I eventually did. But not too far. Just a touch here and there. 

But with every touch, it was getting harder and harder to tell fantasy from reality. My legs were hard to keep still. My hands... my hands were determined to roam. Touching me. Discovering the things that were happening to my body. My fingertip brushing up and down my wet slit.

I heard a door. Then footsteps. My heart pounded. Two voices. Someone mentioned Davie. Please don't let it be him, I prayed. Oh God...as I was...naked...wet...aroused....smelling of ..of musk...

Then the key turned. Jesus, I prayed even harder, let it be Susan. But at the moment, I hated the thought of being seen even by her in my current state. I huddled in the corner. I closed my eyes. My front pressed tightly to the wall. So cold against my hot body.

The light wasn't even turned on. The door closed again. Locked. "Wait!" I gasped. I turned.

I bumped into another body. I was too terrified to even scream. My breath coming in great gasps. I only relaxed when I heard Jenny's voice.

"Oh Davie," she slurred, as her arms came around me. 

It was a relief, it was only Jenny. And it was dark. I was safe for now.

But my sense of relief quickly came to an end.

Soon she was on me. Pressing into me. Her full breasts touching mine. Her mouth. Her tongue. So hungry. So very hungry. I tried to tell her it wasn't Davie. That it was me. I wanted to tell her, but I couldn't get a word in edgewise due to her persistent kisses.

"Oh Davie, I loved the way you kissed me tonight. I've always liked you...but you never noticed. I want - I want you so much." Jenny slurred. "Do you want me. Do you want to be my first?"

I wanted to tell her. But I couldn't. What would she do if she learned it was me and not David? That she'd kissed. That I'd kissed back. Then before I could think, she stumbled and was pushing me to the floor.

"Just lay down," she giggled. "I'll do the work. Are you hard for me? Do you want me?"

I wanted a way out. My mind raced with all these things I should say. But in seconds I could feel her on me. And then I discovered something horrifying. That terrified me to the core. She was naked. Just like me. Naked and very very wet. Worse, she was in a position atop me that left me very very vulnerable. I....I.....

I couldn't even put it into words. Couldn't tell Dr. Livingston what had happened.

"Think back. Just relax. Let the feeling wash over you. Now tell me. What were Jenny's next words?" Dr. Livingston helped me along.

"Oh Davie," Jenny cried. "You don't need to do that. I'm already wet ...and I'm ready ... oh I'm so ready for you. I've dreamt of this for so long. Do you have a condom? Oh...my...oh Davie....I didn't think guys did that...oh ...God .ahhh...your sweet kisses. Mmmmmm....oh Davie...that feels good. That feels so fucking good."

"You licked her?" Dr. Livingston asked, breaking my out of my reverie.

"I wasn't ...I wasn't licking her. I mean...not in that way," I stammered. It wasn't like that. Not at all. She made it sound like I'd done it on my own free will. "She was ...Jenny was doing most of the work. Just like earlier, she was the aggressor once again."

"So it was her fault then?" Dr. Livingston asked. "She took advantage of you...her best friend."

"No ... I mean..you see...she didn't know it was me." I explained.

"So you took advantage of her?" Dr. Livingston asked.

My shame was so deep it was almost palpable.

"Yes...I guess I did..." I admitted. "But I didn't do it intentionally. It was only my lips at first. From accidental contact.

But she assumed. And then she kept going. Breathing. Moaning. I just wanted her to keep quiet. I figured if I did what she wanted, she would eventually stop. Then I would be able to get out from underneath her before Susan came back."

"Your best friend," Dr. Livingston said. "Was she extremely fat. Extraordinarily heavy? A weightlifter so strong she was able to overpower you?"

I felt confused. In my memories, she had been heavy. But she wasn't a heavy girl. She was thicker, but I was taller. I remembered her knees pinning my wrists. But had they truly? 

"Are you suppressing again? Perhaps you should lie on the floor? Go on. It will help you remember." Dr. Livingston suggested. "Do you think that would help put you in the same frame of mind?"

I wanted to remember. I felt like I was on the verge of a break though. I felt like I was giving up more control that I was prepared to give, yet it remained eerily the same feeling as that night so long ago. I lay naked on the floor. Chill bumps covered my arms. I did feel more vulnerable. Similar to how I felt that night.

"She was on top of me. My body was bent up in the confines of the closet. So uncomfortable. So helpless. Her weight settled on my wrists....and ..."

I felt weight on my wrists. God, it felt so real...just like that night. I could almost smell the dank mildew smell from the mop against the wall. And then the musk. The scent of Jenny's arousal. Her wet muff pressed against my face. She was humping against my face. 

"Davie...davie..." Jenny moaned.

I could feel her wet lips against my own. Not the lips of her mouth that I had already kissed several times that night, but the lower lips...of her vagina. I felt so helpless. So vulnerable. I tried to move my wrists, but they were stuck fast. I wanted her to be quiet. I - I - my tongue snuck out of my mouth. But only to lick her moisture from my lips. Only I - only I licked her in the process.

It was an accident.

Jenny didn't know it was an accident however. She moaned. She purred.

She panted.

And she was quieter. If only a bit. 

I thought... doctor, I felt so helpless...all I could think was that I could do it again and make her quieter still.

My tongue crept out, not for my lips this time...

...but hers.

Slowly at first. But then faster. I wanted to finish her off. Then she would get off of me before we could be discovered and humiliated. 




The Psychosis of Submission



After a few moments, she moved off of me. I thought it was over. That she had finished. But then she settled back again.

She was only getting comfortable. I learned what she wanted that way through trial and error. Light flicks of my tongue on her clit. And then slowly...making slow circles around her nubbin.

"Oh Davie..." she would moan, whenever I did something especially nice.

And each time she said those words, I burned in shame.

"Your wrists," Dr. Livingston said. "Are you still trying to move them? Struggling to get up?"

And I felt the same weight on my wrists. I almost lied. God, how I wanted to. I opened my eyes and saw Dr. Livingston above me watching. Smiling slyly. There was nothing on my wrists except for my discarded blouse.

"No..." I admitted. I had never even admitted this to myself. "I guess I could have gotten up at some point. I wasn't as trapped as I had imagined.

"Keep going," she urged. "Don't try to analyze yet. Just let the feelings wash over you and keep going."

I wasn't trying to get up. Yet I was still underneath her. Licking her. Pleasing her with my mouth. It felt like hours, but it must have only been minutes before her body stiffened. She gasped. Again and again. Her hips rocked. She grew even wetter than before. Her juices coating my face and running down my neck. I knew instinctively that she climaxed. And then... and then she must have passed out...still naked...still pressed against my face. 

I could hear her heavy breathing. So warm ...uncomfortably so. I inhaled her sweet musky scent. I wanted to ... 

"Oh doctor, I laid there for I don't know how long...with her wet sex pressed so tightly against my face. I wanted to move, but I was trapped. Hopelessly trapped."

"But not as hopeless as you imagined. However, you did get up eventually?" Dr. Livingston said.

"Yes...but not like you think. It was horrible doctor. The worst thing that ever happened in my life happened then. Because at that moment, even as I'd made my mind up to extricate myself somehow, the lock turned and Susan opened the door to the closet.

She saw me...

...She saw us.

"Oh my God," Susan exclaimed. "You dirty little queers. Get up. Get out of my closet."

And she pulled Jenny to her feet. 

"Davie...Davie..." Jenny slurred.

"Davie, huh?" Susan said, turning to me and looking at me slyly. "Is that who you were in the closet with."

God how I burned in shame. My humiliation was complete. My betrayal of Jenny had been discovered. By my worst enemy.

"And just what did Davie do?" Susan continued her questioning of my best friend.

I couldn't stop Jenny from answering. Of telling how good it had been . How it had been Jenny's first time. How she had seen fireworks. How she had come. How she gushed. How skilled Davie had been. How she wanted to do it again and again.

Oh how Susan gloated. Then I prepared for the worse. I prepared for her to tell Jenny the truth. To complete my degradation. My betrayal of my best friend. The worst night of my life.

"I know Davie must like you an awful lot," Susan said. "But you need to promise me something Jenny. You can't tell anyone. No one. You see Davie has a girlfriend and he would get in a lot of trouble. Besides, you would get a bad reputation. What sort of girl does something like this without even going on a single date? You don't want that to happen now do you?"

"No...I guess not," Jenny said. Her eyes half lidded. Her body weaving as she struggled to keep her balance. She was naked and oblivious to it. "Karen...wha-what are you doing here?"

"She was in the other closet," Jenny lied.

"Oh..." Jenny didn't even bother to look to see that there was only one closet in the room.

That appeared to be a good enough explanation for Jenny in the state she was in. I was relieved. It seemed at the time that Susan had saved me. She gave Jenny all her clothes...but me? Susan took great pleasure in handing me mine, one by one. Making a show of giving it to me, then snatching it back at the last minute.

I tried not to let her get to me. Tried to be mature. But she had me. Covered in goosebumps, nipples hard as tiny nubbins, face soiled...and

....I was aroused too. Being made to hop and dance in order to snatch my clothes back from her was making more even more aroused.

And I let her have her way too. I had to keep her happy, lest she tell Jenny that it was I in the closet and not David. And she didn't. But I was soon to find out that her silence and help came with a very steep price.

"That's enough for today. We went slightly over your time," Dr. Livingston said, as she got up and smoothed down her skirt. "But it was worth it. I think we've made progress. Real progress."

I felt my cheeks grow hot as I realized I was naked. Not just naked. My legs were spread at right angles. And I was very very aroused. Even my lips were visible and wet.

It was then that I realized that my panties had been placed over my face. God, I had inhaled my own scent as I fantasize of Jenny. Had Dr. Livingston noticed? I prayed not. I could still feel a ghost of the sensation. I wanted Dr. Livingston I desperately wanted her. But she was a Doctor...she surely didn't feel the same about me. She couldn't. She seemed so cold. So detached. I quickly dressed and Dr. Livingston ignored my state.

"Be sure to keep up with your mood journal," she said. "I want to see if your progress carries over into your day to day life."

And it did. I wasn't as depressed. I felt closer to my fiancee than I had in months. In the mornings, I usually felt like I had to climb out of a pit to get out of bed. This week, I got out of bed before my alarm went off. Yes it was progress. I didn't know how. But it was. And it felt good. There was only one small problem. Susan. I didn't think of her. But somehow I could sense her presence. There just out of reach.

The only thing that didn't feel good was the sense of foreboding I had about my next therapist appointment. I had told her things I never meant to tell anyone. I had told her things I hadn't even admitted to myself. And she had me do things...things that terrified me, yet at the same time made me feel alive. Unburdened. I thought about not going. But then the day of my appointment, I found myself getting ready. Dr. Livingston was so very sexy. I knew I was getting a crush on her, but there didn't seem to be anything I could do about it. I trimmed my bikini. Picked out nice clothes. Almost as if I were going on a date. I thought about changing back, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I showed up for my appointment 15 minutes early. 

"How was your week?" Dr. Livingston said. 

I told her it was much better. My depression had eased. Even the sex was better.

"Really?" Dr. Livingston asked. "Was it your usual? Or was something different?"

"It...it...was..." I could feel myself blushing. How did she always seem to know what I was most ashamed of. "...different."

"Tell me about it?" Dr. Livingston said.

I'd already told her so much, what did it matter. I steeled myself and began. "Well... Mitch was watching some sports channel, and for some reason I felt randy. Instead of asking him to come to bed as usual, I put on some sexy clothes. I sat next to him. I rubbed him until he grew hard. He kept watching the TV. I guess something good was on.

So I...I took his...you know...I took it out...and then I went down on him." Saying it. It felt so innocent at the time, but now it felt dirty. I could imagine Susan there next to him, looking on, a crocodile grin on her pretty face.

"Did he go down on you?" Dr. Livingston asked.

"...no...."

"Did you reach climax?"

"....yes...." The words were hard coming. I felt even dirtier. Like some sort of pervert. "I rubbed myself while I was ... pleasuring him. With my mouth..."

"Just relax. You are so tense Karen. Give yourself permission," Dr. Livingston said. "Let it wash over you. How did you feel after?"

I let the feeling wash over me. Such intense humiliation, but I fought through it. "Good. I felt that I had pleased him. That he was happy. And I was happy."

"And that's what matters," Dr. Livingston said. "Now tell me about this Susan. You said last time that her silence came with a price. What price?"

"Susan's price....you see....I became....sort of ....um...an um...toy..." Susan. I hadn't thought of her all week. And yet, she was there with me always. Like some sort of ghost. Now I felt her return. Grow more solid. Strong. While I grew weak.

"You are stammering Karen. A sure sign of repression. Are having a hard time remembering again? It is caused by you trying to battle your subconscious. Stop fighting it. Picture yourself there with her. Look around. The lights. The people. Where are you?"

"I'm at the mall. It's bright there in the food court. I'm ordering a Diet Coke. Jenny is waiting there next to me. Then there is a tap on my shoulder. Oh God! It's Susan."

"Hi Karen," she said. "I heard they had a sale going at Belk's. 75% off. You should buy something. You totally need too...your clothes are like so 1984." And then she pressed a note into my hand, turned and left.

"What a bitch." Jenny said, taking a sip of her Coke. "To think I thought she was pretty nice at the party. Well, we can sure see the real Susan now, can't we?"

"Yes...we can...." I said, the hidden note burning a hole in my hand. "I think I need to go to the little girl's room. I'll be back in a minute."

Once there I locked myself in a stall and read the note. 

Meet me in thirty minutes in the Belk's Misses dressing room. Stop by the makeup counter first and let them do your makeup. Ask for Terri. Don't be late. Unless you want me to tell your secret. Otherwise I'll tell your friend all about Davie."

She was blackmailing me. I felt a stab of fear in my gut. With my knees so weak, it was hard to stand, I went back and made some excuse to Jenny. Then I hurried to the makeup counter. Asked for Terri. I sat there while she did my face. My hands on my knees to keep them from trembling. So conscious of the time. Of the nervous sweat running from my armpits and down my sides. What did Susan want? 

"What do you think?" Terri asked, turning me to face the mirror. "You are very pretty."

Pink lip gloss. Green eyeshadoweye shadow. Blush covered cheeks. I may have been pretty, but after she was done, I looked like a tart. A mall slut.

"It's great. Thanks." I looked down at my watch and quickly made an excuse to leave while she was still trying to sell me $10 lip gloss.

I entered the Misses dressing room with only seconds to spare. Perhaps she wasn't here. 

"Susan?" I called quietly.

"In here." 

She opened the door and I quickly entered. She closed it behind me. Made sure it was locked.

"I like your makeup," she said. "I have something for you on the seat. Put it on. All of it."

This was back in 1986. Madonna was hot. And the clothes she picked out were the sort of clothes that Madonna might have worn. Only, I wasn't the sort of girl to wear clothes like that. White fishnet stockings. High heels. A trashy mini skirt with tears along the thigh giving a brief glimpse of flesh..and in my case, pale flesh. A lace bra. It wasn't padded. It made me feel small. Tiny. Even more so due to Susan's stare. She looked at me like no one had ever looked at me before. 

"Let me get a good look at you," Susan said. 

I turned around for her. A human doll. She made me show myself off. Raise my skirt. Stick out my chest. Show off my ass in the tawdry thong she had found.

"You've got me hot from looking at you showing yourself off," Susan said. And when she said it, I felt a new kind of fear. One I had never imagined before.

"How did that feel?" Dr. Livingston asked. "A girl had you display yourself. And then she told you she was hot from looking at you. What emotions are you feeling?"

"I couldn't believe my ears. Hot? From looking at me? I felt- I felt...."

"You are hesitating again," Dr. Livingston said. "Don't fight it. I see you dressed up for your session tonight. I think you are sufficiently tarted up. Don't blush. Just let the feeling wash over you. Now get up. You are in the dressing room. Don't just remember. You are there. Show me. Show me and tell me what you did."

Oh God...Dr. Livingston noticed. I didn't know what possessed me before I left for my appointment, but I dressed up...as if it were for a date. I got up from my seat, a wave of shyness washed over me. I turned around....switched my weight from one foot to the other. Then blushing furiously, I turned around and stuck out my chest....much like I had done that night so very long ago....

"You've got me hot from looking at you," Susan said. 

No one got hot looking at me. And I felt strangely pleased, but then the implications hit home. A girl. She was hot from me. A girl who had power over me. I should have been horrified. And while I was scared - I was also ...tingly. 

"Take off your panties," Susan ordered. 

But it wasn't like before. Not like when I took off my cotton panties in the closet or there in the dressing room just minutes before. She wanted me to strip them off like a stripper or something. I didn't know how at first, but she told me what she wanted. 

Hoping to please her, I obeyed her humiliating instructions. Shaking my hips from side to side. Raising my short skirt. Turning in circles. Lowering the thin strips of fabric over my slim hips. Giving a glimpse of my curly dark hair. Pulling my thong back up but tight. So tight against me. Pushing the fabric into my folds. Working the cloth back and forth...sending shocks through my loins. I felt the fabric grow more and more wet...God...what would I do..the panties didn't belong to me and I was ruining them. Dear God, and I was growing more and more turned on, despite the awfulness of my situation.

A bad girl. I wasn't a bad girl, but this was what bad girls did.

Oh God Dr Livingston, I can see myself in the mirror as if it were only yesterday. Panties at my feet in a small puddle. Precariously balanced in high heels I had only worn for the first time. My bra undone. Nipples swollen - hard. Cheeks so red. Biting my lower lip. My dimples visible. There's a look in my eyes. They-they want to please her. I wish they were the disinterested eyes of someone doing something distasteful...like homework. But they don't. They dart. They flash. They look imploringly. They want.

I noticed Susan taking her panties off too. Leaning against the wall. 

"Do you remember what you did for your drunk little slut friend?" Susan asked. "Have you ever done that to anyone before? A girl I mean?"

"I didn't Susan....I mean...it was an accident...I....I.....never have..."

"Too bad. I guess I'll have to teach you." Susan said. "Come here and lick me. Lick me like you licked that little bitch."

"I can't. It's not right." I couldn't believe what she was suggesting. 

She looked so confident. Her stare so penetrating. I couldn't. Not like this. There it had been dark. There I was trapped. I don't even know what possessed me the night of the party. I had just wanted Jenny to be quiet, but then once started, I couldn't stop.

But now? In the cold rational world of the mall. I couldn't.

"I'll tell...." Susan teased, her hand gently stroking through the curly down of her sex.

Was she teasing? Or was it a warning. I couldn't take the chance. My knees shook so hard. It was a struggle to kneel down. I was so scared. Not just of Susan, but you see...the door didn't go all the way down. Could I be seen? God, I hoped not. I moved in close. She was damp. Musky.

Hot.

For me.

"Oh Karen..." she purred as I licked her wet slit. And I showed her everything I had learned from Jenny. And she taught me a new trick or two. And this wasn't like that night. Her hands roamed through my hair. She purred my name. Not Davie's. There were mirrors all around. I could see her standing so tall above me. Me, so small kneeling down between her muscular thighs. I wasn't being held down...but still I was still being made to do this thing.

again..."

"How does that make you feel?" Dr. Livingston asked. 

"I feel ....small...doctor...weak.... tingly... wet...."

"And how do you feel about those feelings?"

"I - I don't want them...I want them to go away..."

"Not this time," Dr. Livingston said. "Let them wash over you. Feel the smallness. Let the weakness wash over you. The wetness."

At her words, my fantasy took a life of it's own. I licked her. I sucked her. I let myself be used by her. And it was okay. I reached between my legs. So wet. Tingly. That day in the dressing room, I never touched myself. This time, there in the office, with my therapist looking on, as I re-lived those events, I rubbed myself. I came. Oh how I came. I came again and again. I wasn't with Dr. Livingston, I was with Susan. Coming. And I knew that Susan knew that I had come. 

"You are coming aren't you...you little queer. I dolled you all up. Turned you into my little mall slut," my fantasy Susan said. "I made you strip for me. Like a little queer hussy. And I made you lick me too. And look at you....you like it. You do. I can tell."

Susan in real life never said that, just moaned "God you are good. Oh you sweet little bitch, what a fucking tongue you have."

But in my fanstasies she said horrible things. "Oh if only your parents could see you now. What would you say with your makeup and your high heels, kneeling on the floor, with your face buried in my puss? What would you tell them?"

...and every horrible thing turned me on all the more. 

My cheeks burned with shame. I let the feeling wash over me. The wave of humiliation. But it didn't drown me. My body rose on the waves...climaxing again and again.

Afterwards...I opened my eyes. Dr. Livingston sat writing in her notebook. Her nose slightly crinkled. I was kneeling. Naked. I hadn't just come in my fantasy, but I had come in real life as well. Dear God, I had come there on the floor in my therapist's office. God, how shameful it made me feel. To escape, I closed my eyes once again. Found Susan. 

After I pleasured her, she pulled up her panties and smoothed down her skirt. "I want you to wear those clothes tomorrow. To school. Otherwise, I'll tell Jenny everything. Don't try to talk to me either. When I want you, I'll tell you. And don't try to hide either. I want you to go about things just like you always do."

"How did that make you feel?" Dr. Livingston asked.

"Helpless. She could tell me to do practically anything and I would have to do it. Perverse, because I shouldn't ....be doing the things I was doing. Having sex in the women's dressing room. With a girl. Dirty, I felt dirty and shameful."

There in my little skirt and high heels - my face all made up - lipstick smeared. I looked like a tart. A tramp. And I was going to have to go to school like this the next day. There were other girls that dressed like that all the time. But not me. Never me. What was I going to do?

"And the next day," Dr. Livingston said. "What did you do? Did you tell her you wouldn't take part in her deviant games? After all, you could expose her own secrets now."

My shame made me tremble. "No," I admitted with burning cheeks. The thought never entered my mind. "The next day, I put the clothes she bought in my car. I pulled over and hid the car behind a church. I changed into the clothes she bought. I made my face up. So gaudy. I wore a chain with a large crucifix. Hoop earrings. My glasses were the only item that still connected me to my former conservative attire.

It was awful. My teacher called me after class. She told me that if I wore the see-through shirt again, I would have to go home. I told her it was the style. That the corset covered everything important but she didn't buy it.




The Psychosis of Submission



At lunch Jenny asked what I was wearing. Asked what had gotten into me? Suggested we sit in the corner. As we walked by the other tables we passed Susan's. 

"When I told you about the 75% off rack, I hoped you would find something pretty. Ask me next time and I'll help you find something a bit more...normal," Susan joked. "Besides a girl with your proportions...well, you really should try to keep those little bumps well padded."

My cheeks burned and so did Jenny's. Jenny muttered, "Fuck you Susan." I said nothing as we hurried past. I dared not utter anything. 

"Positively tiny...mosquito bites...." I overheard them laughing as we walked away.

Sitting there in the corner, my shoulders curving, trying to protect my modest.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Jenny asked.

I could only shrug my shoulder.

Jenny didn't say another word to me.

My mind kept going over the things Susan had said. My God, she made such fun of me ... and she was the one who had picked my clothes out. She'd even said that I made her hot. Yet, today she was making fun of me.

And the worst thing...oh doctor...the worst thing....even then...there at the table...after all she had done, I was turned on. Thinking of her. Thinking of going down on her again. Thinking of eating out that hateful little bitch. Wearing the clothes she wanted me to wear. Wanting the girl I had seen the night before, the one who told me I made her hot. Who ran her fingers through my hair lovingly and called me her sweet bitch."

Later that day she gave me another note. It said: After school. McDonald's bathroom.

I waited there for her. Twenty minutes locked in that stall. Dreading ... hoping...wondering what was to come.

"Sorry," she said. "Cheerleading practice went over. But I've been thinking of you."

Oh God and she was so pretty, so perfect, wearing her little cheerleading outfit. And then she was peeling off her bottoms. Propping her shapely leg up on the seat of the toilet. "Hurry up. Lick my sweet pussy."

"Wait," I said. Her earlier betrayal burned in my gut. "Why did you say those things to me today?"

"Because I wanted to," she said. "Besides, I have a plan. Now stop stalling. I'm really turned on, but all this talk is turning me off faster than a cold shower. Now get to it."

"Here?" I asked. In a filthy bathroom. It was disgusting. I wouldn't. Especially not after what she'd said to me today. 

"Well, we can always tell Jenny," she said, waving her control over me. 

It was hard work that day. So hard to squat down in high heels. I wanted to kneel, but I dare not touch that filthy floor. But in the end, I was kneeling and squatting. God, I was even squatting on that dirty gritty floor. Susan made sure of that.

And I licked her. I licked her until she came. My knees aching. Finally I was done. However, I soon found she wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot.

She reached into her gym bag and pulled out her bra.

"Did it embarrass you when I made fun of your cup size today?" she asked.

"Yes...." it came out as a whisper. My cheeks burned.

"I want you to wear mine tomorrow. And it better be filled out. I don't care how you do it." 

"But...but...." I stammered. To go from my size. To hers. In a single day. People would surely notice. I would be ....mortified. Shamed.

She kissed me before I could protest. And then her hand went beneath my short skirt. In my panties. Thrusting into me. I wasn't just wet. I was willing. I moaned. My hips humped. My legs grew weak. So did my will.

"So you'll wear it for me?" she asked. "I'm turned on just thinking of it. Please...please...say you'll wear it. Show me how you look with normal sized breasts."

"No I can't....I - it isn't possible..." I stammered. And her finger rubbed, and teased.

God, that finger, how I wanted it. How I wanted it to take me over the edge of the abyss. And I said "Please..." and I said "Yes..." , but not to her...to that soft skilled finger.

I was breathless.

"So you'll do it," Susan said, taking it as my answer to her question. "Awesome."

And before I could say, "No..wait...", she withdrew her finger and kissed me one last time...

...and left me there. Spread against the metal divider.

She tasted her wet fingertip, then she held her digits to my mouth for me to clean. She smiled the whole time as I took her digit in my mouth and sucked it lovingly.

Then she told me to wait five minutes before leaving. Leaving me frustrated. On the brink. Feeling used. I sat down on the toilet and rubbed myself off. I came so so hard. God so hard. 

The next day I wore a black sweater. I figured it would hide my increased bust size as well as anything. I thought it did at first. No one said anything. Not until I saw Susan and her cronies in the hall. Jenny walked next to me. Susan smiled wickedly. She reached at the bottom of my sweater. In her hand was a ball of tissue.

"I believe you dropped something," Susan said, handing me the tissue.

"Oh my God," one of the girls giggled. "Who is she trying to fool? My God and she's dropping tissue!"

I took the tissue and balled it into my hand. My cheeks were a blaze of crimson. My knees shook. My nipples ached. My sex was wet...so wet. And Jenny, she kept walking without me. I tried to catch up to her.

"Don't come around me anymore Karen," she said and quickly turned a corner. "I'm ashamed to be seen with you."

I went to the restroom. All alone. I cried. Then I masturbated. Twice. The rest of the day was mortifying. Word had gotten out. My desk was stuffed with tissues. People snickered. .Made small breast jokes. That afternoon, I met Susan in the restroom at McDonalds again. She made me take my sweater off. Made me give her the bra back. Made me hold my shoulders back. Show her my small breasts. Display them. Made me pinch my nipples. Made me tweak them and pull them until I began to gasp. To moan. My knees to grow weak." 

"Show me what she made you do," Dr. Livingston said, interrupting my fantasy. "I think this will help you let go of these things you are holding onto."

I knew my embarrassment shown on my face. I knew I had already show Dr. Livingston everything I had. I had even climaxed in front of her. Put on a humiliating display. But, this ...I couldn't.

"Come dear," Dr. Livingston said. "You aren't eighteen anymore. We are two adult women. Go ahead, it's okay. "

I took off my sweater and folded it neatly on the arm of the sofa. Next I took off my pretty black bra. My special occasion bra. My nipples ached. Hard aching tight pebbles.

"Now show them off for me. Go on. Stand up and strut around. Imagine you are there with Susan."

"So tiny," Susan giggled. "But you gasp and moan each time you pinch them. I bet they are sensitive. I read in Cosmo that small girls were sensitive like that. Do it again for me. This time give them a nice pull and twist. They deserve a little extra punishment don't they...for causing you such embarrassment today. God, you are making me hot as a firecracker watching you. I'm creaming my panties."

I opened my eyes momentarily. Dr. Livingston's hungry eyes devoured me as I stood, shoulders back, tight nipples pulled hard between my cruel forefinger and thumb. I looked in those eyes and felt like I was drowning. God how I wanted her. I closed my eyes once before she knew how far I had fallen for her.

"Be sure you pinch them. Nice and hard," Dr. Livingston said. "If you gasped and moaned that day, you be sure to gasp and moan now. Now please continue."

I pinched and pulled them. I gasped and moaned. The pain, it hurt. Yet it was exquisite as well.

"I think perhaps you pinched a little harder that day," Dr. Livingston said. "Don't you think?"

I looked down at my abused nipples. They were red and beginning to bruise. I wasn't so sure that she was right, but I pinched them again for good measure. Twisting and turning them as I did so. Almost to the point where I couldn't stand up. I couldn't help but cry out.

"That's good," Dr. Livingston said. "A nice little lesson."

Then I strutted. I thrust my shoulders back and lifted my small breasts. I thought back to that day, that day with Susan...

"Such tiny breasts," Susan said. "You can wear my bra, but you can't fill it. Can you? No you can't. The girls all see how you react to everything I say. Tomorrow I want you to wear your smallest bra. Yes, that's right, you have one don't you. Something left over from last year or the year before? Maybe in the back of a drawer or stored in trunk? Tell me. Tell the truth."

"I-I have one." I stammered. God how shameful. I had one that was four years old.

"I want you to adjust your bra straps. I want those cups as high as possible. Okay?"

"I don't know if it will even fit."

Susan reached beneath my breast. Gave it a lift and appraised my small orb. "Oh it'll fit just fine. And be sure to wear that white angora sweater skirt you like so much with it. You know the one. Now get down and lick me. You've got me hot as hell. I've been dreaming of that sweet tongue all day long."

I squatted down in the dirty stall. She wriggled her panties down and held her skirt up for me. 

"Let the feeling wash over you. Are you depressed? Do you feel disconnected?" Dr. Livingston asked.

"No...I feel hot.... I feel alive." More alive than I felt in years.

"I see. Please continue." Dr. Livingston said making a note. 

"I licked her just like the day before. I licked her until she orgasmed. Clutching my hair and pulling me in tight to her sex. Almost smothering me. The whole time we were there...I didn't...I didn't even say anything about what she had done to me. How she had humiliated me in front of everyone. To this day I wear shirts with a high collar."

"I want you to try an exercise," Dr. Livingston said. She began to unbutton her blouse. Her bra soon followed. She had large full breasts capped by large dark nipples. She was beautiful. It took all my will not to beg to suck those large breasts. "I want you to wear this for the rest of the week. Go ahead and try it on now. I have some tissues beside you on the table."

Don't, my mind screamed. Don't do this. Things are going far too far. Now you are doing things outside the office.

"Let the feelings wash over you." Dr. Livingston said. "Let them was away your doubts."

I let them. My doubts. My fears. My shame. My insecurity. I put on her bra. It hung loose. I tightened it as far as it would go and tried again. It fit. Just. But not the cups. I filled them with tissue. At her urging, I put my blouse back on. God, how was I going to manage this? Could I? Did I dare?

"Our time is up for tonight." Dr. Livingston said. "I'll see you next week."

=================

"How did your week go?" Dr. Livingston asked.

"Not so good doctor. People looked at me...." My cheeks burned just thinking about it. "People noticed. I saw it in their eyes. And even those that didn't know me, they looked at me. Looked down at my chest. I walked around all week with my cheeks afire the whole time."

"Then why didn't you take it off if it was so horrible?" she asked.

It stopped me in my tracks. "Because you told me to do it!" I said a bit too loudly.

"And if I told you to jump off a bridge?" she asked. "What then?"

"I....I wouldn't."

"Then why did you do this?" she asked. "It's clearly an unreasonable request."

"I...I don't know." I said, but inside I knew the answer. Because I wanted to. Because I had failed Dr. Livingston's test. I was a failure. Worse, now I had to take responsibility for my week long humiliation.

"Why don't you take it off now," Dr. Livingston said. "Since it shames you so much."

I reached beneath my black blouse and gladly unhooked my bra. Then I thought the better of it. Was this also a test? Was I supposed to take it off or keep it on? I looked at Dr. Livingston for guidance, but she had the same disinterested look in her eye that she always seemed to have. What did I want to do? I wanted it off, it was hot and uncomfortable. I also took off my jacket that I had been hiding them behind.

"The blouse too," Dr. Livingston said. "I bet they would appreciate a bit of air."

There wasn't a point to doing so. She didn't say it was a part of my treatment. I knew this must be another test. I should say no. And yet, and yet after looking her in her steel gray eyes, my fingers fumbled with my buttons...I couldn't say no.

"Go ahead and get comfortable," Dr. Livingston suggested, thankfully not telling me I had failed yet another test. "Get those legs back on the arm rests. You know ... your usual position. Remember those feelings. Let them be a part of you. Now where were we? Oh yes, your friend Susan asked that you wear a small bra to school. Which really is not so bad, I have at times..."

But the doctor didn't understand. She was well-busted. I on the other hand wasn't. A tight bra on her, would give her cleavage.

On me? A bra I had worn three years prior. From when I was in the eighth grade. From before my growth spurt. The cups? God, the cups fit..even if it was a tight fit. However the straps cut into me. Digging into sensitive flesh. I put on the sweater she had asked for too. It fit my slight form like a glove. Hugging me. I looked in the mirror. No cleavage. No, my breasts looked small. Tiny.

Like little mounds atop my small chest. So high atop my chest.

What was I thinking? Why was I keeping the charade up? I mean, Jenny didn't want to hang out with me anymore. There was no point to it. But I couldn't fathom what would happen if word got out about what I did. And somehow, I couldn't seem to stop this game I had begun to play. 

Jenny was the first to say something.

"What are you doing? I may not have noticed before, but after yesterday, it so obvious...I mean...you are small. And after your stunt yesterday stuffing your bra, everyone is going to notice you even more so now. Just...I don't know, put something in there so it isn't so drastic. My God, everyone is going to see you. Laugh at you. Especially Susan. Why are you letting her get to you like this? Fuck her. It doesn't matter what she thinks. You don't need her approval. Just make an excuse and go home. God, I don't even want people knowing that we once hung out together."

My cheeks burned. "I don't know what you are talking about Jenny. I wear this sweater every week."

"You know damned well what I mean. Don't ever think of hanging out with me." And Jenny stormed off.

Susan and her cronies waited by the door. I was alone. So very alone.

"Look at her. My God, now she's flat as a board." And this wasn't even being said by Susan who remained to the side and surprisingly quiet.

"Shit, Susan," another said. "You tell her her clothes are out of style and she buys new clothes. You tell her she's flat and she comes in with a D-cup. You tell her not to stuff her bra and she comes in flat as a board."

"Tell her to come to school naked." Someone whispered. 

I swallowed. My knees growing weak. My mind racing with fantasies of coming to school nude. Helpless. People pointing. Laughing. And my God the fear was so intense because I wondered if Susan said, yes, come to school naked.

...that maybe I would.

"I know," Susan said. "It's almost so easy it isn't even fun anymore."

She came close to me. Her hand reached out and touched my hair. Twirling it around her finger. It was all I could do not to rest my face against her hand. To kiss it.

"Your hair looks like a shit stain," Susan said. "But...you know what would look pretty? I bet you would look good in red."

Then she turned and walked away. Her cronies soon followed laughing and giggling. "Do you think she will do it? Oh God I bet she will. Five bucks. You are on." I heard them giggle.

That day I earned a new nickname at school. They called my flatty. Flatty pancakes. I didn't cry. I tried. Oh how I tried. But I just felt hot. Tingly. I masturbated twice. After 5th period, I noticed a note had been placed in my locker. Meet me at Rite-Aid at 4:30. XOXOX Susan. 

I knew I shouldn't. She couldn't even blackmail me anymore. Jenny wasn't even speaking to me. Yet, I parked my car beside hers. She told me to meet her inside in 3 minutes.

Susan was waiting in the hair aisle. A box of hair dye in her hand. She held the box to my head. "Oh this will be perfect," she said and handed it to me. She wasn't quite finished. She also picked out new lipstick, eye shadow, and blush for me. A bottle of KY jelly, a bottle of Nair, a pack of peppermint altoids, and a pack of condoms, xtra large. 

"Walk around for five minutes, pay for these and then leave. Pull your car around behind the shopping center."

Five minutes. Five long minutes to walk around the store. Five minutes of heart pounding fear. The hair dye was nothing. But going to that checkout with that older woman. Watching her look at the condoms , the jelly, the Nair for BinkiniBikini kit. God, I could feel her judging me. Incriminating me. Worse, Susan had scratched off the price labels.

"Price check on aisle 5. Trojan magnum 3 pack and KY!" the old bitch said over the speaker system. 

God, I could feel the eyes on me. I should have been mortified, and I was, but I was also hot. So hot. I paid and drove to the back of the store. I climbed into Susan's car. She scooted her seat back.

"Eat a mint first," she urged.

I did and quickly knelt down in the floor board and ate her pussy until she came. She liked the sensation of the mint and urged me to have another and to blow my warm breath over her well used sex. The windows of her Honda fogged up from our exertions.

"Let's get this uncomfortable bra off of you....and those panties too." Susan said. 

And then she stripped me there in her car. Fondling me. Teasing me. Making me moan. Making me melt. She took me to the edge and back again. She smiled knowingly, each time I neared climax... only to stop and start back gain, until I lost all control.

Then she stopped and smiled wickedly.

"Are you horny?" she asked. My sweater was pulled all the way up to my breasts and she held a hardened swollen bud between her fingers of each hand. Teasing me. Taunting me. And occasionally tormenting me.

"Yes..." I whispered.

"Do you want to cum?" she asked.

I nodded shyly.

"Are you sure?" she teased. "It doesn't sound like it."

"I ...I want to cum..." I stammered, it coming out as a moan as she chose that moment to twist my nipples and pull at the same time.

"Then get out and go to the grocery. Pick out something from the produce aisle. And I'll fuck you with it," Susan said. Then she removed the pack of condoms from the bag and took one out. "Whatever you pick better fit in here. If it's too small...no fucky."

"Okay.." I breathed as my cheeks burned with humiliation, yet my loins danced with the fire of lust. I wiped her spent juices from my face, and reached for my discarded bra and panties.

"No." Susan said, pulling them out of my reach.

Reluctantly, I pulled my sweater down to cover my slim body and grabbed my purse. Even with no undergarments, I'd brave the store. God, I was so hungry for it I'd do most anything.

"No," Susan said, taking my purse from my grip. "That stays here too."

"But I need to pay..."

"Shhh..." Susan's finger silenced my lips. She pushed it in and I sucked on it. She teased my nipples with her other hand. "Excuses turn me off. You don't want to turn me off do you?"

I shook my head, my pulse racing like a team of terrified horses.

"I thought you were a smart girl. You are a smart girl aren't you?"

I nodded. Terrified at where this was going.

"Go."

I got out of the car. My legs felt like rubber. My bravery was as wobbly as my feet.

And in the car, Susan's hand was busy at her sex. She mouthed words to me. Hurry. I'm. Gonna. Fuck. You.




The Psychosis of Submission



I was scared already. And the further I walked, the more terrified I became. What if someone saw me? And though my breasts were small, my nipples stood out like erasers from my sweater. I tried to turn my body so it couldntcouldn't' be seen. I made it into the store, and everywhere I looked, I could feel hungry eyes upon me. Sizing me up. Judging me. I knew I had to hurry. The longer I waited, the more my fear grew.

I quickly scanned the produce department. A banana? They were in bunches. I'd have to pull one off. A carrot? They were all wrapped tightly in plastic. A cucumber? God, they seemed huge. But the condom Susan had held seemed huge too. 

It was big. Too big to hide it if I walked out the store with it.

But I knew where it would go. I think I knew all along. I picked up an apple too, just in case someone was curious. I made my way to the back of the store. I looked between the gap of the two metal doors. No one. I looked behind me. The coast was clear.

I darted in and looked around. No one was there. But I didn't know for how long.

I propped my foot on a box, raised the hem of my skirt, and proceeded to push it home.

It was large. Oh God, it was much larger than I had imagined. God, I was never going to manage this....a sharp pain...then it was in...filling me...stretching me....yet I wasn't even half way there. Then through the gap in the door, I saw him coming...in his white hat and apron. I pushed harder. Painfully harder. Forcing it home. Pulling my skirt down just in time....

"What are you doing back here young lady?" he asked brusquely.

"My...my stomach wasn't feeling well..." I stammered. "I thought..."

"It's for employees only," he said. "Try the McDonald's on the corner."

"Thank you..." I held my hand to my stomach. Not just for show. I had a monster inside of me. I doubted I could walk. I took an experimental step. And then another. Oh God. It was trying to come free.

"If you really need it," he said. "It's on the other side of the store. I can show you."

"No..No...I'll be okay. I can make it." I walked quickly. I pointed my knees together to help hold it in. In the end I ended up pressing it in with my fingers. God, what humiliation. I practically ran back to the car.

And then I was over Susan's lap and the cucumber was in her hand. She noticed the blood right off.

"You were a virgin?" she asked as she put the condom on the green phallus.

"Yes..." I breathed, my cheeks burning with my confession.

"They say you always remember your first," she said as she fucked me with it. Giving it to me. Fucking me rotten. "When you get married, your hubby will probably asked you how you lost your virginity. I bet you don't tell him you lost it to me. To a big green cucumber. To a stolen vegetable. But you are aren't you? We can still stop you know. It isn't too late. Then you could say it was an accident. Is that what you want? Do you want me to stop?"

"No...please..." I begged. God I was so close. And instead of shaming me. Instead of making me want to stop. her words were having the opposite effect. I wanted it. I wanted it. I wanted to cum. So uncontrolled. So perverse. So much fucking pleasure.

"Fuck me..." I grunted. "Please fuck me. I need it. Oh God. Fuck me. Oh oh...fuck...coming...."

I use language like that. But I was saying those things anyway. And my body. My body erupted with white fire. I was consumed.

The next I remember, her hands running through my dark brown hair. "I want to see pretty red hair. And wear the makeup I bought you. And use that bikini kit. I want you nice and smooth."

It wasn't till I got home that it hit me. My hair. So far I had been able to keep all that I had done secret as far as my parents were concerned. But after tonight, some things would no longer be a secret anymore. I went upstairs to the bathroom after supper, then I put on the latex gloves and the harsh smelling chemicals in my hair I doubted once, but the aching satisfaction in my sex erased all such doubts. Once I was done, I put other harsh chemicals on my pubes. Fifteen minutes later, I rinsed off in the shower. Afterwards, I looked at the results in the mirror. God, I looked like girl...no longer a young adult. At least the hair wasn't bad. You could hardly tell it was red.

But it became redder and redder as it dried. My God, so red. So noticeable. The next day I put a towel around my head so my mom wouldn't see. I snuck out the door and went to school. I felt like sneaking in the back door of school and missing everyone, but I knew Susan wouldn't approve.

I met her and her friends at the front door.

"She did it! My God, look at her! She dyed her hair! Pathetic! Look it's carrot top!"

"It looks pretty," Susan said. "But tell me...does the carpet match the drapes?"

"I .. didn't know if I could dye it..." I stammered, lost in her hungry gaze. I was so wet. I could feel myself dripping down my thighs. "So...I ...took .... it ...off..."

"Did you say that don't have any hair down there?" A girl asked. It was Lisa.

I shook my head. "Is that okay?" I asked.

"Show us," Susan said.

My cheeks were afire. "Please...someone will see," I begged.

"Just us..." Susan said. Then to the other girls: "Gather round so no one can see her."

The girls made a tight circle around me. I lowered my panties to my knees. With trembling fingers, I took hold of my hem. I closed my eyes to block out their laughing eyes. Then I raised my skirt. God, it was worse than being naked. I was bare. My lips. My mons ....everything was visible. On display. 

"God," a girl said. "She looks like...some sort of hairless dog. A chiauah or something. Pathetic. Make her do something else Susan. Make her roll over and play dead. Oh I know...make her bark like a dog."

The girls laughed and I tried to hold my tears back.

"And what kind of dog are you?" Susan asked the girl. "Let's see yours. Is it a husky or a sheep dog?"

The girl's cheeks turned red. She stayed silent. 

"I think her hair is pretty," Susan said. "And I like how she does what I tell her. Watch."

And then she ordered me to take off my panties. And then to put them in my purse. She said that from now on, as a memorial to my shit brown hair, that Wednesdays were 'No Panties' day. She said that she would check. Worse that her girlfriends might check as well. Were permitted to check. But if I obeyed, she would let me hang out with her and maybe take me shopping for some new clothes this very afternoon.

"Susan," Lisa said. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean.. you know...she's - look at her...she's ... pathetic."

"Exactly," Susan said. "She needs help. It's like charity work. Only more fun."

True to her word, Susan checked several times that day. She even sat next to me in chemistry, slid her hand up my thigh, and then fingered my pussy for 50 minutes straight. She even kept it up when Mrs. Jones asked me a question about the periodic table. God, so embarrassing.

The worst was when Tracy and a couple of her friends checked me in the restroom before lunch. It was right after chemistry class. You can imagine...standing there with my skirt raised in the restroom, lips engorged, clit distended, not even my pubic hair to hide behind, and so very very wet from Susan's earlier attentions. My cheeks so red. I knew I looked like a slut. A pathetic slut.

"I think the little slut likes not wearing panties..." Tracy laughed.

That afternoon, I followed Susan to K-Mart. She started browsing in the clothing section. Try this on. And this. And this."

We went to the dressing room together. I didn't tell her that I dressed in conservative clothes and that these clothes weren't me. Weren't me by a longshotlong shot. I just took mine off and put hers on.

At the time, I was so humiliated I didn't know what to do. First off, no one, I mean no one shopped at K-Mart for clothes. Second, these clothes were bright. They were tight. And short.

Even the panties. I usually wore nice normal cotton ones. The ones she picked out barely covered my front and did nothing at all for the back. And the bras. The bras were all see through. No padding at all. The jewelry and earrings were all gauche.  

I summoned up all my courage. Steeled my will. I told her I couldn't ...wouldn't do it. That everything was all wrong. That the skirt was far too short. Besides, Jenny wasn't talking to me anymore.

Susan ignored my protests. Her hand reached beneath my short skirt. Found my wet sex. Began to stroke and rub.

"You must admit that this skirt has some advantages," Susan said. "Don't you think?"

My will began to crumble with every gentle stroke of her finger. I shook my head, but I could see by the look in her eye that she knew she had me.

Then she turned me around. Came up behind me. We were facing the mirror.

"And these sexy panties." Susan raised my skirt. Touched my folds and valleys through the thin thong. "Are very functional." She reached behind me. A finger probed at my rear opening until I moaned. My hips humping. 

"Tell me you will wear them."

"My - mom...she wouldn't allow...she hasn't even seen my hair..."

"Tell her you wanted red hair....as for the rest...what momma doesn't know...momma can't stop...."

"I can't...." I begged. "...please.."

"But you can," Susan said. "All you have to do is say yes...and you want to say yes to me, don't you. I can tell."

"Oh...God..yes...yes....I want to..." I moaned. And I didn't even have to be told. I quickly went down to my knees. I pulled down Susan's panties. Raised her short skirt. She propped a leg up on the seat. I growled and began to lick her sweet pussy. Oh how I wanted her.

"What did you just say?" Dr. Livingston asked. "What did you say about this girl? The girl that blackmailed you. Embarrassed you. Took sexual advantage of you?"

"I said...." And then I realized where I was. Slumped in the chair. Somehow I had taken my panties off. My finger...my finger was strumming my hard clit. My other hand tweaked my aching nipples. And for the first time ever, I had admitted that I had licked Susan's pussy. Had done it willingly. Had wanted it. Despite the fact that she had blackmailed me. Had humiliated me. I had still wanted her.

"I wanted her. I wanted to lick her. I wanted to please her." Faster I stroked my clit while my psychologist looked at me with disdain. Round and round I worked it. "I know it was wrong. I was supposed to hate it. Hate her. But I didn't. Mmmm...ahhh.....god..." My body quivered. Warm heat flowed to my loins.

"Not yet," Dr. Livingston warned. 

But I didn't obey. It was too late and I was too far gone. 

"I said stop you little slut," Dr. Livingston came out of her chair. Towering over me. Her booming voice required instant obedience.

She called me a slut. A disobedient slut. My own psychologist. I should have know then that things were getting out of hand. Should have listened to the voice inside my head. But my body - my body wanted to continue. I reluctantly stopped rubbing myself. Felt the impending climax begin to ebb.

"Play with those cute little titties until you cool off," Dr. Livingston said.

I felt like a petulant child. And I knew this wasn't part of my therapy. It couldn't be. And yet, I wanted to obey her. I needed to. Her disinterested eyes and stern voice turned me on. God, how I wanted her. My fingers crept up and tweaked my nipples. It made my loins melt like butter, but they were beginning to ache from stimulation.

"You mentioned your mother. What did she think of all this?" Dr. Livingston said.

"She- she didn't like it. My hair that is...she wanted me to dye it back the way it was. But I refused. I said that I liked it. That it was the style. She even had my dad have a talk with me. But they didn't know the half of it. I hid the rest. The slutty clothes...the racy underwear...I kept them out of the hamper....washing them in the sink....changing into them on the way to school."

"So you hid it from them..." Dr. Livingston said.

"Yes..."

"Get yourself together Karen," Dr. Livingston said as she stood. "We are going to take a little field trip. You are my last patient today, so we have plenty of time."

I followed her to the mall, then strolled obediently behind her to the department store, passing my usual department, and went straight to the juniors.

Dr. Livingston quickly sorted through the racks, smiling each time she found a suitable outfit, then holding it up to me as if she were my mom. Muttering: "Too big for you up top. Too wide for your hips. Or ahhh...this is perfect."

Then it was to the dressing rooms to try them on. Only I wasn't allowed to just try them on. No, that would have been too easy.

"Strut." Dr. Livingston said.

"What?" I asked, not sure if I heard correctly.

"Surely you remember Karen," Dr. Livingston said. "Strut. Like you did for Susan."

And I did. I did everything Susan made me do so many years before. I shifted my hips sexily. I swished. I sashayed. I raised my short skirt to show off my tiny pink thong. God, I even pulled it in tight, until it disappeared into my sex. I toyed with my nipples. I pinched and pulled them until I moaned and my legs grew so shaky that it was almost impossible to stand. I changed clothes. I became a little stripper for her. A little pop tart. I was so wet. So hot. I was dripping down my thighs. I batted my eyes. I bit my lower lip. I used all of my seductive wiles.

God, it was so humiliating. I let the feeling wash over me, but I became more and more self conscious with every passing moment. Because the doctor...the doctor wasn't Susan. Susan had looked at me with such intense hunger. She told me I made her hot. Me - a gangly awkward little geek.

But Dr. Livingston looked at me with a look the bordered between mild amusement and scientific interest. I knew what I needed to do. I felt so scared, my fingers trembled. I knelt down. I moved in close. I inhaled the scent of her perfume.

"Oh, I didn't realize you were finished," Dr. Livingston said. "Why don't you pay for these things. Then we can get you some suitable makeup." 

I gave lilting moan, so great was my need of her. I was tempted to clutch her shapely calf and attempt to rub myself on it. Instead, I dressed quickly, gathered up the clothes and checked out. Eight hundred dollars. So expensive. Then we went right back to the dressing room, where I changed into a few of my new purchases.

Our next stop was the makeup counter. There was a girl, Jenelle at the counter. She must have been nineteen or twenty. Her makeup was flawless and elegant. As was Dr. Livingston's. But there I was, on the stool, at the front of the store, with a constant stream of people walking by. And the girl, Janelle - she was really trying. Yet, Dr. Livingston had other ideas.

"Not that one," Dr. Livingston said. "How about that color? The one over there."

"Cotton candy?" Janelle asked, her tone gently trying to steer us toward the more neutral shades.

"The very one," Dr. Livingston said. "And do you have flavored lip gloss?"

"No." Janelle said curtly.

"A pity." Dr. Livingston said. "Come Kari, let's go. I think we will have better luck someplace else. It's like trying to get service at a self-serve station."

The next stop was a discount store. They had the makeup Dr. Livingston had in mind. With pinks and greens. With sparkles and flavors. Not the sort for a woman like me.

There was one last item. A pink dog collar. That was different.

This time there were new instructions. This time I was only allowed to wear the clothes she had picked out. Even the little pink collar. I couldn't hide them. None of them. From my fiancee. From work. No one.

===========================

"You look pretty," Dr. Livingston said at my next session.

"Thank you." My cheeks would have blushed, but pink was now becoming their natural state, and it was made all the more prominent by my new makeup.

I was tingly. My knees shook like a school girlschoolgirl whenever I looked at her. 

"How was your progress this week?"

"No so good..." It was hard to say it. Especially in such a vulnerable state, spread wide in the seat. I didn't even need to be told. I just eased into and hooked my legs over the arms. My sex wet with desire for my psychologist and my perversion.

"My fiancee looked up from his game when I got home last week.....

"Wow..." Mitch said. "You look...hot."

"You like?" I asked. I shifted my weight from hip to hip. I ran my hands down my slim body. Making sure he saw my hard nipples. Toying with the hem of my short skirt. I felt guilty. Guilty for being so worked up...not for my fiancee, but for my therapist. My lust was strong...so strong after stewing in my juices all day at work, during my therapy appointment, and then from my experiences after shopping with Dr. Livingston.

"Come to the bedroom," I said, and began to strip as I walked.

However, Mitch quickly caught up to me and held my wrist. "No, leave it on."

He turned me around. He unzipped his pants. His hardness pressed against me. His strong hands felt my body.

"The bedroom..." I said breathlessly.

He ignored me. Bent me over. Pushing into me with one deep thrust.

"Mitch..." I gasped. Already pushing back. Meeting his thrusts. I wanted him. Wanted him like this. Not in the bedroom. His body working between my spread thighs. But like this. Like two animals. Grunting. Rutting. With his hand grabbing my pink collar and using it to pull me back on his hard cock. Even though it dug into my neck and made the blood pound in my ears.

As he spurted into me again and again. I almost. I almost came. And that night I felt closer to him than I had in a long time. I thought that my therapy was working.

But then the next day. As I put on the clothes I was supposed to wear. The pink collar that went around my slim neck...

"What the hell are you doing?" Mitch asked.

"Getting ready for work." I said.

"Not like that you aren't."

"Why not?"

"Because you can't."

"Obviously I can."

"Not funny," Mitch said. "Get that stuff off. You can wear it for me tonight if you like."

"I'm wearing it to work," I said. "It's...it's...the new style."

"I would know," Mitch said. "I work too. And no one. No one I know would wear something like that...not your age."

"Now I'm old," I feigned anger. "Are you calling me old?" 

"Are you fucking around on me?" Mitch asked. "Is that what this is about? Is it someone at work?"

"No...of course not."

"So it's not someone at work."

"No Mitch."

"Are you in love with someone else."

"No."

I said it. But there was something in the way I said it. I could tell the difference and so could Mitch."

"Good bye." And with that Mitch was out of my life. His stuff was gone when I came home from work.

"How does that make you feel?" asked Dr. Livingston.

"Sad..." I stroked my clit faster. My legs danced in response.

"Really?" Dr. Livingston jotted down a note. "

"Yes... we were together a long time. It wasn't his fault. But he was right. I was in love with someone else." I had as much admitted my feelings. Surely Dr. Livingston would ask. Would discover my innermost fear and hope.

"And how was work?" she asked. 

"Work wasn't much better. Actually, it was worse. I mean people looked, but no one said anything about my clothes or ....even about the collar. Nothing was unusual, but then at a meeting the department head Lynn slid her empty mug in my direction.

"Karen, could you get me a cup of coffee please?"

I should have told her no...what am I a secretary? Those were the thoughts running through my head. But this time...wearing those skimpy clothes...my every shame on display to them....and even wearing a dog collar. I mean...what could I do?"

"What did you do?" Dr. Livingston asked.