“No,” I said immediately. I took a seat in the chair just as quickly.
He shot me a smile that pierced me like a hollow point bullet. I felt it between my thighs, in my belly, and in my heart, which began pounding a bit more. The fragments of that smile coursed through my body, spreading tingles and sensations everywhere.
I rearranged my black pencil skirt, which still revealed plenty of leg. I crossed my legs and rested my arms on the arms of the chair. My white button-up shirt may have fit me a little too tight and my red bra may have shown through the thin fabric of my shirt. I may have dressed to see if it had an effect on Mr. Dark Eyes.
“This room is to allow my patients to experience sensate touch in the privacy of my office and not have to go to a surrogate somewhere in the area. It provides both convenience and privacy. My patients appreciate it.”
“And your girl, Chastity, is going to introduce me to sensate touch? What is that exactly, and why should I do it?”
“Sensate touch is a therapy where you explore the sense of touch with a partner. She touches you and she will ask you to just focus on the touch. Focus on how it makes you feel. Where does it give you pleasure? Where…”
“Where can she touch me?”
“For today’s session, both you and her will stay away from the genitals, and I’ll ask that you stay away from the nipples. Just about everything else is open.”
“You said she touches me.”
“For the first half of the session, she will do the touching.”
“So, I know how to do the touching when it is my turn?”
“Well, yes. Also, so that you can pay attention to how the touching makes you feel. What feels good? What causes discomfort?”
“Do we do this clothed? Or naked?”
“It will help if you strip down to your underwear. Chastity will keep her bra and panties on.”
He nodded and grew silent as he processed. I gave him some quiet and space to grow comfortable with the technique.
“And you must have some recording equipment behind that mirror?”
“Very perceptive, Mr. Baxter.”
“I am an expert in security and…” he stopped mid-sentence.
“I only record with the patient’s permission. The form is on the coffee table.” I motioned to the clipboard and pen.
“How do you secure your video? Does it get uploaded to the cloud?”
My god, he’s paranoid.
“We store all video on local systems with no Internet connectivity. We still have an older 8mm video recorder we could use if that would make you feel better.”
“And why do you need to record?”
“I view the recording so that I can look for verbal cues or body language that might help me diagnose and recommend a treatment.” That sounded so clinical, which it was supposed to be. My thoughts turned to other uses for the recording that would not be ethical, but would be so pleasurable.
“Where do I sign?”
I got up from my chair and showed him where to sign. His hand brushed mine as we did and I felt a jolt of sensation course through me again. After he signed the release, he handed me the clipboard. I sat down on the coffee table so I could face him.
“I have one more request. Since you insist on only ten sessions, I want to assess your reactions as soon as possible to inform tomorrow’s session. While I will have the tape to review, if I can observe from the other room, I will be able to prepare for our session tomorrow. Will you agree to let me observe?”
“You want to watch another woman touch me and me touch another woman?”
“Yes.”
“Are you a voyeur, Miss Davenport?”
