The Evil Therapist
Loretta Marks had just finished the kind of day that sent most psychologists running to their local bar to obliterate what they had seen and heard from their minds with hard liquor. As a rape crisis counselor Loretta saw and heard the worst of the worst. Women and occasionally men that had been tortured, abused and violated by other humans who saw them as mere prey.
And many of them had the marks to show for their ordeals. Loretta had a photographic memory and so every bruise, cut, whip mark and cigarette burn was imprinted on her mind the same as a photograph is imprinted on a camera disc. And that attribute would be what to send most other people in her position screaming into an asylum.
But Loretta was not like most psychologists. Loretta loved her job and she reveled in seeing every mark of torture that her clients bore as signs of what they had gone through at the hands of other humans. While most therapists cringed when they saw the tears streaming down their clients faces Loretta had to work hard to hide her joy.
And now that her day was over she could not wait to get home and use and abuse her male slave. He had also been one of her clients, a man appointed to her by the courts after his wife had forced him to sign over all his property to her and then had unceremoniously kicked him to the curb. He had sought refuge in a homeless shelter and eventually had found his way into Loretta’s office.
Most of the people she treated, she actually tried to heal. After all she had to maintain a certain percentage of successes or she would eventually lose her practice. But Don had been one of those cases that she did not want to recover completely from his ordeal at the hands of his wife. She could see potential in him, a male that could be molded to her will. She had to congratulate his now ex-wife. The woman certainly had a talent for breaking the opposite sex. And Don was so completely broken that Loretta only had to plant a few seeds in his mind that he deserved everything his wife had given him.
Within a few more sessions she had him admitting that he wanted to crawl under her desk and lick the dirt from her shoes. Of course she could not allow him to do that. It would have been unethical.
But when she finally pronounced him cured and ready to reenter society she had led him to her secluded home and installed him as her personal slave and maid. And of course part of his duties was to keep all of her footwear clean and spit shined. The spit was required to come from his tongue.
But unlike Sandy, she did not treat Don badly 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. For the most part she treated him with kindness and understanding. As long as he kept her home clean and progressed at his cunnilingus lessons she allowed him good clean food and water. What she did not allow was him to achieve his own orgasm unless she supervised it and she supervised very seldom.
On the rare occasions that she relented and took off his chastity device, she always made him earn his orgasm with some type of pain above and beyond the normal discipline sessions. And so very quickly he came to associate pain with pleasure.
And tonight after hearing a new patient describe how she had been raped and tortured for days on end before she had escaped, she was in the mood to cause some pain of her own. Not because she was angered by what the man had done but rather because she was jealous that she could not have witnessed his cruelty first hand.