Renee leaned back on the couch and exhaled deeply, inspecting the therapist’s face for any trace of reaction. Usually when she talked about the orgy, the person she was talking to looked back with confusion, fear, lust, or some combination of the three. Megan, however, simply scribbled something on her clipboard, stone-faced and professional. Renee watched her expectantly.

Finally, the bespectacled therapist clipped her pen to the clipboard and met her gaze. Her eyes were a cool grey, and as she spoke, her voice matched that temperature. “It sounds like you didn’t enjoy yourself.”

“Yeah, no shit I didn’t enjoy myself.”

“Did the other women enjoy it?”

“Other than the streamer lady?” Renee rolled her eyes. “I dunno, I guess my mouth was too busy to ask.”

“Have you asked Tanya if she enjoyed it?”

“She says I did an ‘admirable job.’ Which sounds like code for ‘I appreciate the attempt.’”

“How do you think you did?” Megan unclipped her pen from the clipboard.

“Terribly. Obviously.” Renee suddenly found the weeping fig plant in the corner far more appealing to look at than Megan’s unflinching gaze. “I had no idea what I was doing. I’m pretty sure she didn’t even come.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Megan’s red pen flutter across the page.

“Well, Renee, let me tell you what I’m hearing. I’m hearing a woman who got into a situation she felt ill-prepared for, who feels embarrassed about how she performed, and who hasn’t been able to shake those feelings for several weeks after the event.” Megan set her clipboard down on the table and leaned forward, fingers knitted below her chin. “Does that sound like you?”

Renee continued to stare at the plant in the corner, which had a fascinating trunk consisting of several strands of wood woven together. “I guess.”

“How would you describe yourself, Renee?”

“A woman who got put in a non-consensual sexual situation? Who had her body violated in ways she didn’t even know were possible? Who saw the mastermind of her suffering not only evade punishment, but be showered with praise?” Despite herself, she felt her face become hot and her chest tight.

She waited for Megan to respond, but no response came. Renee simply stewed in her frustration, tears welling up but not quite bursting out. She sniffed, sniffed again, then buried her face in her hands.

“There are tissues next to you,” Megan said quietly.

They spent a few wordless minutes together, a mountain of tissues slowly accumulating in the wastebasket between them. Finally, after far too long, the tissues came away dry, and Renee’s vision unblurred to once again meet Megan’s cool grey gaze.

“Renee,” the therapist whispered. “Do you wish you had enjoyed it?”

Renee took a moment to process the question. Her voice caught in her throat, still tight and scratchy from her tears. She gulped. Then, slowly, she nodded. “I think so,” she croaked.

Megan flipped to another sheet on her clipboard, scribbled a few words, then tore off the page. “There’s this framework I’m familiar with,” Megan said, “called the Circle of Courage. It argues that, psychologically, we all have four universal needs: belonging, mastery, generosity, and independence.

"It sounds to me like you didn’t feel like you belonged at that orgy. That you didn’t feel like you had the requisite mastery to participate appropriately. That because you lacked that mastery, you couldn’t be as generous to Tanya as you wanted to be. And that despite all that, you didn’t have the independence to choose to leave.”

Megan held the page out to Renee. “This is a prescription for Good Girl pills. They won’t magically make you good at sex, but they can help you feel like you belong while you build up mastery. Then, once you’re ready, you can make choices about which orgies you do or don’t want to participate in.”

Renee studied the paper in front of her, her eyes scanning the words over and over.

“You don’t have to take them; there are other things we can try. But my other clients have had good results, so I wanted to offer.”

Renee paused a moment longer, then reached out with a shaking hand to take the sheet. “I’ll… I’ll consider it. I’m not sure yet.”

“That’s okay, Renee.” Megan smiled, the first time since Renee had stepped into her office. “We can talk about it more next week.”

Renee folded the prescription and slipped it into her purse, then eased herself up to her feet. “Right. Next week. Thank you, Megan.”

“Have a great week, Renee.”

***

megan pulled out her phone and typed a new message: She took the bait, Mistress. 💕