I stood in front of the door, using my body to hold it open as I waited for the ding of the elevator. I’d just buzzed in my last patient of the evening, and, as usual, Celeste emerged from the elevator bay doing her rushed little half-walk-half-jog in an effort to not make me wait too long for her. As usual, my smooth voice carried down the hallway, reassuring her that there was no rush and she could take her time. 

Celeste slowed. A little. Enough to catch her breath, anyway.

As usual, Celeste apologized for the inconvenience as she entered the otherwise empty office. 

Most of my evening patients got used to the routine of entering the building after-hours once they had seen me for two or three sessions, but I’d been seeing Celeste every second Thursday at 7pm for the past six months and she still hadn’t been able to get over the feeling that she was inconveniencing me. 

I followed Celeste back into the main waiting room of the office where, just like every other time, she stepped back to let me take the lead. As always, I offered her a glass of water or cup of tea; as always, she declined, not wanting to put me out. I poured a cup of tea for myself, watched wordlessly by Celeste, and idly wondered if I was reinforcing some of the people-pleasing through this small pre-session ritual or if that was simply where we were in the process. Perhaps it would be wise to discuss at my next clinical consultation, as Celeste had become even more deferential to me over time, not less. In the meantime, however, this suited my purposes just fine. I led the way to the small office at the end of the hall. 

It’s generally not recommended for therapists to be completely alone with clients, without even reception staff to back us up in case something happens, but that had never been a problem. If I ever had any doubts about someone, I’d just make sure to book them when there were other people around, and if anything unexpected came up, I had a panic button to call security. For protocol’s sake, I situated myself in the seat closest to the door, but I had nothing to worry about with Celeste.

Especially with my plan for tonight’s session. 

Celeste was a young woman in her early 30s whose attractiveness wasn’t immediately obvious due to the way she dressed to hide, but having spent so many hours alone with her over the past six months, I’d come to appreciate her beauty. I’d had unprofessional thoughts about her in the past, particularly when I saw how deeply she could immerse herself in the mindfulness exercises we did together, but more so intrusive thoughts, thoughts that I couldn’t help but were relatively easily ignored. At least until our last session. 

“I don’t know how to do this, Dr. Byrne,” she’d said. “I can’t sleep, I can’t relax, my fingernails are chewed to bits. I don’t know how to be in charge; mom always made all the decisions. I wish there was someone to just… tell me what to do.” 

Her voice had been echoing in my mind for the past two weeks on a loop.

I wish there was someone to just… tell me what to do.

We sat down, and Celeste settled onto the couch, still upright (I don’t do that Freudian shit) as I picked up the notebook I use to take notes from our sessions.

“How are you doing, Celeste? With the funeral and everything.”

Celeste’s mother had died about a month ago, and the funeral was scheduled for the day following our last session. 

“The funeral was nice. I cried, a little. Not like Andy; he fell apart completely. But I kept everything running smoothly.”

I nodded, unsurprised. Their mother had done a real number on them, from what I’d heard. Celeste could do no right, and her twin brother, Andy (short for Andromeda) could do no wrong, to the point where their mother had called Andy her “Gold Star” and Celeste her “Silver Star” to cement the hierarchy. From the sound of things, Andy never had the need to develop any kind of coping skills; Celeste was expected to make it all better for him. It was unfortunate that their mother had died a mere two months after Andy had finally moved away for graduate school and gained some independence. 

“I just…” Celeste continued. “Andy went back to school Sunday night, and I just feel… lost. Being in that apartment all alone… with all her things… I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know what she’d want me to be doing. I guess I should start thinking about going back to work… but all my classes for the semester got reassigned already, so it’s just my research and I can’t even focus…”

“Okay, okay, let’s slow down a little.” Celeste was excellent at running herself up to a panic, and I wanted her relaxed tonight. 

I needed her to have her guard down. 

“Of course you’re feeling lost! So much of what you’ve been working for has been to please your mother. Heck, you turned down your dream post doc fellowship because she didn’t approve of a job in sexuality studies. You’ve never really had to consider much what you’ve wanted before, so of course you’re feeling lost without her dictating your every move anymore. Especially now that Andy is away at school and you don’t have him to take care of.”

“You and your mother had a very fraught and complicated relationship. It might take us a little while to sort out all these feelings and get you feeling back on track, and we’ll get there. In the meantime, you’re allowed to grieve. Take the time.”

Celeste was hanging onto my every word, staring at me slightly tearfully. 

“Yes, you’re right of course, Dr. Byrne. I just don’t know what to do.”

I paused, considering what to do next. Teetering between my clinical judgment and my deeper, darker desires. I started speaking slowly, before I had fully decided which route I was going to take.

“Celeste, we’ve been working together to try to decrease your people-pleasing behaviour, which developed largely in response to your mother’s treatment of you, for the past six months. It has been understandably treatment resistant while you’ve been living with your mother, and as difficult as losing her has been for you, this also presents an opportunity for you to progress in your treatment in a new way.”

The look of surprise in Celeste’s eyes at my suggestion that the loss of her mother could have a silver lining cemented my decision.

“In the meantime, however, it’s so much change at once, and as I said, you need to take the time to grieve. It’s simply too much to try to shift such longstanding patterns at the same time as coping with such a loss. But we’ve talked about how working so hard to please your mother is a safety behaviour of sorts. Not only safety from criticism, but also safety in terms of giving life some direction. Which is what I’m hearing is missing now.”

Celeste nodded.

“Yes, exactly! I just… never learned how to figure out what to do with my life on my own. How do I even start to figure out what’s next? At least with mom, she is… was… so outspoken about what she wanted, I never had to guess…”

“That’s right, Celeste. And as long as you did what she wanted, you were safe, weren’t you?”

Celeste continued nodding along, seemingly pleased that I was understanding what she meant. I smiled kindly.

“For all that your mother could be strict, cruel even, you always knew what was expected of you.” 

“Yes!”

“And it’s so hard to have to try to navigate it all on your own, especially when you’ve never done it before, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Dr. Byrne.”

“That’s exactly right, Celeste. And it’s so much easier to decide when you can just go along with what you’re told, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Dr. Byrne, it is.”

Celeste’s eager compliance had me fighting the urge to adjust in my seat, but this was the most delicate part of my plan, where a slip would have the whole thing collapsing around me. Instead, I started stroking my beard as though deep in thought, despite knowing exactly what I was going to say next.

“Celeste, you trust me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Dr. Byrne.”

“After all, I am your therapist. I know what’s best for you.”

“You’re my therapist. You know what’s best for me.”

“That’s right! Very, very good, Celeste!”

“Thank you, Dr. Byrne,” Celeste almost glowed with the praise. The poor thing had already been so conditioned to crave approval. Shaped practically from birth to be taken advantage of.

“You’re very welcome, Celeste. Now, I’d like to try a somewhat unorthodox kind of treatment, but I think it could help with that lost feeling you shared. A grounding strategy, as it were. It may not be a long-term solution, you see, but we could use this space here as a safe space where you can re-centre yourself. You do feel safe here, don’t you, Celeste?”

“Yes, Dr. Byrne, very safe!”

Poor girl. Grasping for any port in the storm. 

“That’s right, Celeste. You’re safe here, with me. While everything else is so tumultuous, this can be your space where you’ll know the rules, you’ll know exactly what’s expected of you, and you won’t have to make any of those hard, complicated decisions. How does that sound?”

Celeste’s relief was palpable. I finally allowed myself to adjust ever so slightly in my seat. 

“That sounds like exactly what I need, Dr. Byrne! You always know what’s best for me.”

“That’s right, Celeste. I always know what’s best for you.” She smiled, appearing relieved. “So to start, I’d like you to get into a comfortable position for me, and take a few nice deep breaths in… that’s it… hold it for a moment… and out… yes, some nice deep breaths just like that.” 

I breathed with her to lead her a bit as she settled into her seat and begin to breathe in time with me. 

“Very good, Celeste. Now, as you focus on your breaths, I’d like you to stare into my eyes. Do you remember that mindfulness exercise we did before, where you tried to notice all of the different colours in the room? This is just like that. Try to notice all the different colours you can see in my eyes. That’s right. You can just focus on your breathing and my eyes. You can let go of all the stress, all the uncertainty, all the worry about what would make others happy. I’m your therapist. I know what’s best for you. Just stare into my eyes just like that and let me tell you exactly how to please me.”

I had pulled my slightly taller chair up a little bit closer to the couch so Celeste could gaze into my eyes more closely, which also had the effect of exaggerating the difference in our heights, forcing her to look slightly above her eye level to follow the instructions. I continued to speak in soothing tones, remind her now and again to gaze deep into my eyes to find all the colours, and lead her breathing until I noticed her eyelids beginning to flutter.

“Oh, dear, those eyes must be getting tired… I can see how much effort it is to keep your eyes open and staring into mine. If you’d like, you can close your eyes as you exhale, and open them again as you inhale… that’s right, I’m sure that will be so much more comfortable for you…”

After a few more breaths, she was struggling to reopen her eyes on her inhales, so reminding myself that I only had to ignore the tightening in my pants for a few more minutes, I told her that she could simply keep her eyes closed and imagine herself staring into my eyes. A few more relaxation suggestions later, and she was slumped over limply on the couch, deep in trance, taking in all of my suggestions about how good and safe it would feel for her to do whatever it took to please me. 

It was almost too easy. The girl had been more or less conditioned to be compliant since birth.

I put Celeste into a more waking trance, where she would stay fully hypnotized but able to interact and follow instructions. I got fully hard seeing the blank look in her eyes, knowing what I had planned for her next.

“Say, Celeste, it’s rather warm in here, isn’t it? They always overestimate how chilly it will get in the evenings. I think you’d be much more comfortable without your sweater on, and it would so please me for you to be as comfortable as possible.”

“Yes, Dr. Byrne.” There was no inflection, no emotion, no tonality in her voice; simply mindless, slightly slurred, almost robotic obedience. Celeste removed her sweater and folded it neatly, placing it on the arm of the couch on which she sat. She wore a sheer pink camisole underneath, which displayed the pink lace bra she wore rather nicely. Her C-cup breasts were larger than I’d expected; she dressed in such a way as to hide them. To hide from the attention. 

There was no hiding those nipples from my attention now, though. Not with the way they stiffened as they cooled, freed from the warmth her sweater provided.

The dissonance between her blank stare and the flush working its way up to her ears and down to her chest was delicious.

“I’m going to make myself more comfortable as well, Celeste. But you still look rather warm; I think you would be even more comfortable still if you removed your camisole and bra wouldn’t you? It would certainly please me for you to be comfortable. And for you to allow me to see your breasts.”

A flicker of doubt seemed to cross Celeste’s face.

“As I promised, you can just relax, and I’ll tell you exactly what would please me. No worry, no guessing, just being in that safe place where you do what you’re told and nothing bad will happen to you. You can just relax deeply and let me guide you, and you’re already doing such a wonderful job!”

Her face settled back into blankness as she proceeded to remove her camisole and bra. Not taking my eyes off her for a moment, I moved to unbutton my dress shirt and remove my pants by feel, breathing a sigh of relief as my cock, still encased in my boxers, emerged from the tight confines of business casual attire. I drank in the sight of her, almost as though I had to make up for her inability to see and appreciate my body through my appreciation of hers.

“There, isn’t that so much more comfortable?”

“Yes, Dr. Byrne.”

I instructed Celeste to focus on her internal self, this time. Her eyes rolled back slightly as she did.

“I’d like you to notice how good it feels to be more comfortable. And it pleases me so much when you feel good. And it makes you feel good to please me, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Dr. Byrne.”

“And so the better you feel, the more you please me, and the more you please me, the better you feel. A nice positive feedback loop of feeling better and better, and pleasing me more and more.”

Celeste let out a contented sigh.

“I’d like to do an experiment. Let’s see what feels better- you caressing your breasts with your hands or the knowledge that doing so would please me. Do it now.”

Celeste’s hands automatically moved to her breasts, accompanied by my encouragement. At my “good girl,” she let out a quiet moan. I told her how much it pleased me that she moaned louder at my praise than at her fingers dancing over her nipples. How happy it made me that she was taking this time to enjoy not having to make decisions. How much I was enjoying watching her start to grind against the couch. 

How hard she was making my cock.

Each time I praised her, she became more lost in pleasure. Each time I praised her, the suggestions strengthened their hold on her. The more she pleased me, the better she felt, and the better she felt, the more she pleased me. She didn’t even seem to notice the wet spot she was leaving on the couch even through her pants as she ground her crotch against her seat without taking her hands off her breasts.

“Tell me, Celeste, what would make you feel better right now? Touching your pussy or pleasing my cock?”

She shuddered with pleasure.

“Please, Dr. Byrne! Pleasing you feels so good. Please tell me which would make you happier?”

“What a good girl you are! That was the best answer you could give me. It would please me greatly if you removed your pants and underwear so you don’t make even more of a mess of them, then got on your knees over here so you can suck me. Yes, that’s it, I can see how relieved you are at knowing what to do! It’s all going to be okay, my good girl, you don’t need to worry. I’ll guide you.”

She was on her knees in front of me even before I had finished talking, her natural desire to please mixing intoxicatingly with the need of her enforced arousal to create a desperate eagerness in her. I helped her to remove my boxers, really just lifting my ass to clear the way for her to pull them down, and groaned as she luxuriated in the first lick of my cock from base to tip.

Celeste was skilled, I had to give her that. Alternating between licking, sucking, and swirling her tongue around my tip, all while maintaining a steady rhythm with her hand, she had me close to orgasm more quickly than I expected. In between my own moans, I told her how well she was doing and what a good girl she was being for me. I didn’t want to cum just yet, so I redirected her to my balls.

I instructed her to start slow, and she started to lick and suck enthusiastically, her hand not leaving my dick. I gripped the arms of my chair to keep myself steady as the pleasure of her starting to swirl her tongue around my left nut threatened to overwhelm me. 

“Fuck, that’s my good girl, you’re doing so well, pleasing me so much, that’s my Silver Star.”

Celese’s mother’s backhanded term of endearment had the exact effect I had anticipated. She redoubled her efforts, continuing to swirl her tongue around my left ball as she worked the right one into her mouth after it, determined to fit both inside, determined to be good enough for me. 

Celeste, her mouth stuffed full with my balls, continued to stroke my cock with her hand and let out a moan of pleasure and satisfaction, which vibrated through her mouth and pushed me over the edge. The tightening of my balls in her mouth as she gently but steadfastly kept them there, continuing to massage them with her tongue extended my pleasure. She stroked me through several spurts of cum before I started to soften in her hand.

“Such a good girl for me…” I panted, catching my breath. 

Celeste beamed with pride. I gestured to the streaks of my cum on the floor.

“Look how well you pleased me! All of that evidence! And when you clean it up with your tongue, every lick will reinforce just how much you pleased me and make you feel better and better.”

Celeste began to lick up the mess from the floor, not even registering the humiliating position I’d put her in. I continued to give her suggestions as she worked that each lick would remind her what a good job she had done, how much she’d pleased me, and would give her a burst of pleasure. I committed the image of Celeste crawling around on the floor, licking up my cum as each lick left her moaning and left her glistening, unattended pussy dripping down her thighs to my memory. 

Given her eagerness, it didn’t take her long to just about finish with her task, her hips twitching with every movement looking for the slightest bit of friction on her sensitive pussy. She wasn’t going to get any touches from me, though.

Touching a patient like that would be unethical.

Instead, I told her that when she licked up the last drop of my cum, she would experience a wave of pleasure that was the accumulation of all the pleasure she had felt so far tonight, the culmination of how well she had done and how pleased I was with her. No sooner had she licked up the last of my cum than she began to writhe in ecstasy, her own release overwhelming her senses. The girl clearly needed release, with all the stress she’d been under lately. And it was a beautiful orgasm, the waves of pleasure crashing through her, first quickly, then slowing down as she relaxed into a heap on the floor and her breathing slowed, with the occasional spasm of an aftershock. Her eyes rolled back and, with my assistance, she settled back into a deep trance.

~~~

“...and, in your own time, you can come back to the room after this practice.”

I slowly blinked my eyes open, situating myself in the familiarity of Dr. Byrne’s office. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Dr. Byrne… did I fall asleep?” I blushed, my eyes searching out the clock to find that it was ten minutes past when my session was supposed to end. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry to have kept you!”

“Not to worry, Celeste, we were just doing some mindfulness practice, and you were very immersed in it. I wanted to give you the space to get all the benefit from it that you could, given the circumstances. How do you feel?”

How did I feel? I felt… really good. I wasn’t sure exactly what we had done, but I remembered Dr. Byrne saying something about grounding and re-centreing myself, and it wasn’t completely unusual for me to forget some of the details when we did mindfulness exercises. Especially so late in the evenings when I started out so tired. I certainly felt relaxed, though. I also felt a bit damp and sweaty, but that wasn’t entirely unusual. As much as I liked Dr. Byrne’s office, the thermostat had a mind of its own.

“I feel really relaxed. For the first time in weeks. I don’t remember exactly what we did, but thank you, Dr. Byrne!”

“I’m so glad! We do, unfortunately, need to wrap things up, since we have gone a little bit over our time, but I think this has been a rather productive session in terms of getting you a bit more grounded and relaxed. We can do our regular session in two weeks, and if you’d like to have another grounding and centreing session, we can absolutely make that happen.”

“Thank you, Dr. Byrne!” I stood up, grabbed my purse, and moved toward the door. I didn’t want to impose on him any more than I already had. 

“Thanks again, Dr. Byrne! I’ll see you in two weeks!”

“The pleasure was all mine. Have a lovely evening, Celeste.”