Rapid Descent

I despaired at first of knowing what to do. It's not like I had any concept of therapy. And didn't really want to.

I didn't want to get into her issues, the causes of this trouble. I would give her what she wanted if I could, and get out of there. I already couldn't stand myself. How was I going to feel after sending her back to her boyfriend?

I gave myself a moment for self pity, and self loathing, and settled down next to her on the bed.

I talked to her for what felt like hours. Describing how I wanted her to feel. How she wanted herself to feel. Connecting memories of arousal, submission, that act of kneeling to pleasure her boyfriend. You know what, let's call him Jordan. I'm getting tired of writing the word Boyfriend.

I made sure every lick, every taste, every time her mouth wrapped around his shaft that she would feel such exquisite pleasure. I told her how the act would make her feel, like a goddess, and a servant all at once. I watched her writhe in pleasure at my words, and barely kept myself from re-enforcing those suggestions of pleasure more directly.

I can't tell you how tempting it was. Seeing her moaning, back arching, those perfect breasts thrust out before me.

It's right now that I realize I may not have mentioned that I'm Bi. As if it wasn't obvious from that last paragraph.

But it went on. And I resisted. I talked, and she listened. I gave her what she wanted. I gave her license to feel how she wanted to feel, to be who she wanted to be. And I cursed myself for doing it.

Finally. When I was sure, when I was positive that the suggestions would hold, that they would endure, and that she wouldn't instead break down into tears at the conflicting feelings. I woke her up.

She blinked, looked confused, asked how long it had been. I told her the truth, that I didn't know, and just sat back in my chair.

She told me that she didn't feel any different. Asked if I was sure it would work.
I told her it would if she wanted it to. Simple as that.

She sat up and looked at me with those sad, understanding eyes, said thank you, and walked out of the room.

I sat there alone in the dark, for perhaps 5 minutes. Holding my knees, rocking back and forth. Trying to summon the courage to go back out, to face those people long enough to get to the door and go home. Trying not to cry.

When the door opened again.

And that same sad, understanding look. She pulled Jordan in after her...