The Chelmsford Academy – Part Two

Susan Bradshaw sat at her desk reviewing the notes she had taken during her three counselling sessions with Julia Wallace. Susan was intrigued by Julia, not just as a client but also as a person. She was obviously wealthy and came from money, she exuded an air of entitlement and superiority but so far her story had been tragic. Susan had a few male to female transgender clients over the years and she knew that sexual abuse was more common than it should be. It seemed that some men immediately thought that transwomen were promiscuous for some reason.

Julia had confessed that she had been confused about her gender identity and sexuality when she was younger and that she had been taken advantage of by the men in her life. Her father despised her for being who she was and had sent her to a strict boarding school where she was bullied. Her uncle had blackmailed her into providing sexual services and had even invited one of his friends to participate and a prefect at her boarding school had also compelled her to offer herself sexually after being betrayed by her best friend.

What Susan found surprising was that Julia claimed to have fallen in love with Timothy Valentine, an older prefect who used Julia, in her own words, as a concubine.

Susan was of a mind that Julia was suffering from Stockholm syndrome which is a proposed condition or theory that tries to explain why hostages sometimes develop a psychological bond with their captors. It is supposed to result from a rather specific set of circumstances, namely the power imbalances contained in hostage-taking, kidnapping, and abusive relationships. The psychiatric community were bifurcated as to whether the syndrome actually existed. Susan thought that to some extent Julia Wallace was a hostage at the Chelmsford Academy and her relationship with Tim Valentine was abusive.

Susan would like to explore Julia’s relationship with Timothy Valentine further during their forthcoming session and also explore Julia’s confession that if the price she had to pay to have her femininity validated was to allow herself to be sexually violated, she was willing to pay it. These had been Julia’s own words when they had argued about the preposterous theory that if rape was inevitable then the woman should endure it and if possible enjoy it.

Susan could see a pattern of systematic abuse developing and was eager to provide Julia with some coping tools to deal with the consequences. Julia claimed that she had suppressed the memories of the sexual encounters and they had only recently surfaced. Up until then Julia had believed that she was sent to boarding school by her father because he had caught her crossdressed while drinking his liquor. Julia had blanked out the sexual encounters with her uncle. She also remembered being bullied in boarding school but not being, for all intents and purposes, Timothy Valentine's sex slave. She recalled being forced to fag for him but not the sex nor her devotion to him.

Something must have happened, a trigger of some sort, which caused Julia Wallace to suddenly remember the sexual abuse. There was no doubt that Julia felt guilty not only about being used sexually, but also her compliance and complicity.

Which brought Susan to her next dilemma? She had asked Julia not to be so sexually descriptive and explicit when describing her sexual encounters but Julia had ignored Susan and told her that she found it cathartic to confess to someone all of the intricacies, machinations and minutia of each of her encounters. At this stage of their doctor-patient relationship Susan was of a mindset that Julia was telling Susan the explicit details about her encounters to absolve herself of guilt. This seemed fair to Susan because that is exactly what a psychiatrist is supposed to do. Listen to their clients and not make judgements.

However, Susan was also disturbed about her own responses and impulses when Julia confessed the details of her sordid past. Susan found herself becoming sexually aroused as she pictured each of the scenarios. Susan was a lesbian in a loving relationship with another woman but there was something about Julia’s stories that titillated her to the point where on completion of the last session she had masturbated, imagining that it was she not Julia who was bent over Tim Valentine’s bed being vigorously fucked.

It was something Susan would have to bring up with her own psychiatrist during her next session but for now she had Julia Wallace to contend with. She looked up as her wall clock struck the hour and she pressed the button on the intercom and asked her receptionist to send in Julia.

Julia entered wearing another skirt-suit and Susan wondered if Julia came to her therapy sessions straight from work. Susan knew little about Julia's current domestic and professional situation because they had been concentrating on dealing with Julia’s past.

Julia's suit was bone-white, her hosiery almost transparent and her heels were also white, red-bottomed Louboutin’s. Her makeup was heavy but perfect as usual and a miasma of Dior Poison preceded her into the room. Without any preamble Julia took off her jacket, kicked off her heels, poured herself a glass of water and settled into the chaise lounge. Susan, who was wearing a navy pencil skirt, mauve satin blouse, black sheer hose and black high heels, settled into the plush seat beside the lounge, smoothed her skirt under her bottom and rested the notebook in her lap, pen poised.

“We finished last week with me stating my intent to explore your assertion that you loved Timothy Valentine,” Susan began.

“Yes, as I said, I think he subconsciously loathed himself for having a deep affection for a transvestite just as I secretly loathed myself for falling in love with him. I now know that I was just infatuated with him because he validated my femininity. It was around that time that I was seriously thinking about how I could live full time as a woman,” Julia explained.

“You also said that Tim was insistent that he not see your penis. This to some extent validates your hypothesis. He bullies and belittles Julian Wallace but he venerates Julia Wallace. So long as he never has to see your penis there is no link between the two,” Susan explained.

“That’s exactly as I see it. He bullied me into fagging for him, which gave me the perfect excuse to be in and around his dorm at all hours. I always wore tights or very tight knickers whenever we had sex so that my penis remained tucked away out of sight. Of course there were instances when I became aroused and even climaxed but I never freed my penis from my tights or knickers,” Julia blushed.

“As I said, depending on his mood Tim would want me to satisfy him quickly: I’d give him a quick blowjob or he would just bend me over and fuck me or, if he was in the mood, we would spend hours making love. He was a bit Jekyll and Hyde like that. As his graduation drew closer he became paranoid about anyone finding out about us. Throwing a fuck into a crossdressed sissy was a lark but showing her genuine affection and spending the night with her might be construed as suspect to the upper and middle classes,” Julia sniffed.

“Our final meeting sums up our relationship perfectly. Tim had requested that I wear the red sleeveless spaghetti strap satin evening gown, with the split in one side that I had worn as my costume in the play. My own hair was still short so I wore the glossy raven blunt-cut bob. I looked exactly like I did the first night he fucked me, which I thought was fitting,” Julia’s eyes glazed as she recalled the events of the evening.

“As instructed I was waiting for Tim in his dorm when he returned from his House bar where his classmates had thrown a farewell party. He’d been drinking but wasn’t drunk. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me passionately, one hand instinctively clutching my buttocks the other sliding inside my dress to caress my thighs. He loved playing with my legs and with my bottom and he would even graze the front of my knickers with his fingers, marvelling at the perfect Vee I created in them.”

“I had dimmed the lights and lit scented candles and my perfume was heavy and almost cloying. I thrust my tongue into Tim’s mouth while his tongue explored my mouth. He traced the seam on my stocking at the back of my leg right up to the welt where he paused and fiddled with my garter snap then he tickled the creamy soft flesh above my stocking tops while his other hand stroked by buttocks through my knickers. I clung to him, breathing heavily, snaking a hand down his body so I could caress his bloated appendage through his trousers.”

“I was becoming tumescent myself, my cock becoming engorged, tucked away between my legs. The gusset of my tight satin knickers strained to keep my penis in place while Tim’s fingers flittered over the Vee in the front of my knickers and then drifted across to my other leg to begin all over again. I unzipped him and freed his rampant penis from his trousers and lightly caressed it using my fingertips and my red-painted fingernails. Tim gasped and grabbed my buttocks and squeezed them.”

“‘You are so beautiful Julia, I’m going to miss you, sweetheart,’ he whispered and my heart soared. He kissed me again for little while then his hands went to my shoulders and I took my cue and dropped to my knees. His cock was level with my face and I greedily drew it into my mouth and suckled it, sliding my lipsticked lips up and down the shaft while my tongue concentrated on his glans. I used the tip of my tongue to lap at his fraenulum and my mouth filled with his sweet-salty precum,” Julia licked her lips as she recalled the incident.

“I could feel Tim’s cock begin to pulse which I knew indicated that he was approaching extremis and I waited for the cue. If he wanted me to finish him with my mouth he would rest his hands on my head or if he wanted to fuck he’d lift me to my feet. He lifted me to my feet and kissed me while he guided me to his bed. I lay on the bed, showing all of one leg through the slit in my dress and sucked my finger seductively while I watched him undress. I could see adoration and desire in his eyes as he beheld my pretty face, my slim body sheathed in the red satin dress, my cushiony buttocks and my long legs clad in the sheer dark hosiery.”

“I wanted our last evening together to be special and when Tim was naked, his pale body marbled with muscle, his long slender penis standing proud and erect, I felt my knickers become a little wet with precum in anticipation. He lay down beside me and kissed me, rubbing his cock on my stocking-sheathed thighs. I knew he liked the feel of my diaphanous nylons on his flesh so I trapped his cock between my thighs so he could hump them,” Julia smiled to herself as she relived the event.

“His lips were pressed against mine, his tongue was in my mouth and his hand was stroking my leg. Between kisses he showered me with flattery, telling me what a gorgeous sexy girl I was and that he adored me. I cuddled up to him closer and stroked his bloated manhood, anxious to feel it inside me for the last time,” Julia’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Tim rolled me over on my back and stuffed a pillow under the arch of my back. He knelt between my legs, his cock proud, leaking a constant dribble of clear glossy pre-ejaculate. I opened my legs for him, gathering my dress up out of the way, exposing my stocking-sheathed legs, and my panty-clad pubis. Tim rubbed his cock on my thigh, leaving a snail-trail of silvery precum on my stocking, his cock edging closer and closer to my bottom.”

“Tim smiled at me as he eased aside the gusset of my knickers and slipped his cock into the crevice, searching for the entrance to my tight, slick anus. As part of my toilette I was douched and pre-lubricated and his glans pressed into my puckered bud. I wrapped my legs around him and smiled lovingly at him as Tim lowered himself on top of me so he could kiss me as his sleek shaft pierced my crinkled entrance.”

“He slid his tongue into my mouth at the same time as he slid his engorged phallus deep inside me. I hissed and groaned around his kisses and I felt his lips curl up in a smile. He knew that when he first penetrated me, it was painful and he was considerate and he lay still, just kissing me while my anus stretched and accommodated his steely rod. ‘Ready?’ he whispered and I locked my legs around his waist and ground my buttocks against him, indicating to him that I was indeed ready. I could feel his scrotum slapping against my knickers and I knew that he adored the feel of my satin panties rubbing on his sac.”

“He began to slowly thrust his cock in and out of my tight channel, withdrawing it until just the tip was girded by my tight furrowed ring then he would gradually but deliberately impale me, driving his cock all the way inside me. My sphincter radiated sparklets of intense pleasure as my prostate emitted a warm, satisfying glow that spread through my lower body. My cock was hard, flat against my abdomen, veiled by my satin knickers, his hard belly pressing on it. If he sensed it, he said nothing. My guess was that because he couldn’t actually see it, it didn’t matter.”

“I kissed him deeply while we copulated, extracting every scintilla of pleasure from each other’s body, his cock sliding in and out of me with slowly quickening strokes, my legs scissoring on his flanks so that my stockings glided over his sensitive flesh, my high heels gazing his back, encouraging him. Tim returned my kisses and he drove his tongue into my mouth and I gasped as I felt his penis suddenly pulsate. I held him close and ground my body against him, my arms locked around his neck, my legs gripping his torso as he expressed himself deep inside me.”

“I felt his cock quiver and pulsate. I felt his issue fill my tight anus. I smelled the musk of his spunk as it dribbled out of me. His tight belly pressed against my satin-swathed penis and I ejaculated, soaking my knickers. We lay like that for a long time, Tim’s cock still buried inside me, occasionally pulsing as the last of his spend dribbled from the glans, his mouth pressed against mine, our lips locked and our tongues entwined.”

“I began to cry. I knew that this would be the last time that I would make love to Timothy Valentine, the man who treated me like shit and bullied me outside of his bedroom but coveted and cosseted me when we lay together,” Julia sighed.

“So Tim really did feel something for you, there was affection there besides the bullying,” Susan scribbled a note in her booklet.

“Oh, I haven’t finished my story yet,” Julia said, a little annoyed to be interrupted.

“‘After tonight we can talk about this. No one outside of my close circle of friends and your little piggy friend Betty can ever know about us. It will be like it never happened,’ Tim suddenly became serious and I sensed his mood swing,” Julia continued.

“‘Of course. I won’t tell a soul,’ I replied feeling sad that our relationship was coming to an end. ‘But how do I know that I can trust you? What if you were to suddenly reappear in my life at some later point, maybe with the intent to blackmail me,’ Timothy rolled off me and was looking at me not with adoration but with suspicion. ‘But that would also embarrass and humiliate me too. I would have to admit that I was your crossdressed concubine,’ I replied to him, trying to belay his fears.”

“‘I think I might need some insurance,’ Timothy leapt off the bed and opened the door to his room. His two pals, Oliver and Sebastian, the prefects who regularly visited Betty in our room, were standing at the door. They had obviously been waiting for Tim to let them in. Oliver was holding a Polaroid SX-70 camera, swinging it by the strap. They entered the room and closed and locked the door. Timothy had always kept me for himself. He’d told me that Oliver and Sebastian had always fancied me but he’d told them that they would have to make do with Betty,” Julia sounded a little conceited to Susan, but she didn’t interrupt.

“‘Alright lads, I’m done with her. Have at her,’ Timothy looked at me with contempt and I knew what was coming next. Once again the adage: 'when rape is inevitable, lie back and enjoy it’ sprang to mind. I know that you and I have differing opinions about this but what was I to do? I was a young crossdresser who had given herself freely to a man who now intended to give me to his friends. They were senior prefects, they had all the power and I had none,” Julia recalled bitterly.

“Timothy pounced on me before I could get off the bed while Oliver and Sebastian quickly shed their clothes, their intent signalled by their hard cocks and the black masquerades masks they put on their faces. ‘I got her Tim,’ Oliver said and took Tim’s place. There was no foreplay, he lifted my legs and pushed his hard cock into my natal cleft. He smiled down at me evilly as he pushed his erect penis inside my tight arsehole. The lubricant and remnants of Timothy’s semen greased the way so thankfully there was little pain because his cock was longer and thicker than Timothy's,” Julia shuddered at the memory.

“‘She’s cum in her knickers the slag,’ Sebastian commented, pointing at the front of my satin panties where my shrivelled penis lay hidden inside the spunk-soaked undergarment. I looked at Tim who was leaning against the wall smoking a cigarette watching his chums defile me. A look of disgust crossed his face when he saw the sticky mess dampening my knickers. ‘Tim’s spunk is making it easier for me to fuck her but she’s a lot tighter than Betty,’ Oliver laughed as he began to fuck me. He made me wrap my legs around him and he lowered his face to mine. When I turned away, he forced me to face him and kiss him.”

“When I kissed him I sensed his cock become harder and his kisses became fervent. My vanity overcame my self-loathing as I realised that his renewed vigour was triggered by my desirability and my feminine guile. ‘God, she’s a cracker Seb,’ Oliver broke the kiss just long enough to speak to his friend. ‘Well give me a go then,’ Sebastian had climbed on the bed and his cock was inches from my face.

“Sebastian pushed his cock into my face and bounced it on my lips. ‘Open up Julia, there’s a good girl,’ Sebastian chuckled. What else could I do? I opened my mouth and Sebastian pushed his cock inside it. Instinctively, my lips closed around his sleek shaft and my tongue lashed his glans and I heard him mew. The perverse part of me was thrilled that Oliver and Sebastian found me beautiful and desirable. Oliver’s cock was stretching my sphincter to the extreme and his big bulbous glans pressed on my prostate and my body responded accordingly. Intense pleasure began to radiate from my anus and my cock hardened again,” Julia admitted.

“I suckled Sebastian’s penis and lashed it with my tongue and I raised my buttocks off the bed to meet Oliver’s thrusts, scouring my stocking-clad limbs on his flesh to encourage him. ‘I always knew you were a whore!’ Timothy growled. I was galled at the irony of my lover calling me a slattern. The man who had enjoyed my company almost every night for the last year, who used me as his fuck puppet was calling me a whore. The man who was finished with me and had given me to his friends to defile,” Julia said bitterly.

“Then I was suddenly blinded by a flash in the dark room. Timothy was taking pictures with the camera. He took some shots of me lying on the bed being fucked by Oliver whilst I fellated Sebastian and then he took a couple of close-ups of my face, with my lips locked around Sebastian’s cock. ‘There’s a good whore. These are going to turn out great,’ Tim laid the exposed pictures side by side on the desk to allow them to set.”

“I knew what he was doing but I was too busy attending to the two young men defiling me. Oliver’s big cock was ploughing my anus, he was driving it in and out of my tight hole vigorously, lighting up my pleasure centres while Sebastian was plunging his cock in and out of my mouth as I sucked and slathered at it. My cock was rampant, tenting my knickers, and I was close to extremis. Suddenly Oliver drove me down into the bed and bellowed as he jackhammered his cock in and out of my rectum. I could feel his cock shudder as his scalding semen filled my void. I locked my legs around him and held him close as I ejaculated in my knickers again,” Julia’s eyes were screwed tight as she recalled every detail of her ravishment.

“Sebastian witnessed his friend orgasm and saw that I was complicit, holding Oliver tight against my body with my legs. He saw the glutinous globules of spunk burst through my satin knickers as I flooded them and he released his load into my mouth. He pulled his cock from my mouth and sprayed my face with his milt and then stuck it back in my mouth. I sucked every drop of jism from his hard cock until I had drained it and then Sebastian pulled his phallus from my face and leapt off the bed. Oliver whipped his cock out of my arse and stood next to his friend beside the bed looking down at me as Timothy took some final snaps of me lying on the bed with my skirt hiked up, my knickers soaked with cum juices and my pretty face smeared with Sebastian’s semen. I looked exactly like the whore that Timothy had called me,” Julia took a deep, withering breath.

“Oliver and Sebastian took off their masks and dressed. Timothy was already dressed and the three young men took great pleasure in perusing the photographs he had taken. ‘Mommy and daddy would be very disappointed in you Julia, I’m sure. And if I was ever to show these pictures to a prospective employer I’m sure they would reconsider,’ Timothy pointed to the pornographic pictures on the desk. ‘Even with that wig and makeup I can tell that its Julian dressed as a girl so I’m sure anyone I showed these too would recognise you too. I’d like you to leave now Julia and I never want to see you again. If I do ever see you again, you can guarantee that I will have these handy,’ Timothy gathered the pictures and put them in an envelope.”

“I walked down the corridor to my dorm and found Byron Rumsfeld dressed as Betty lying on her bed smoking a cigarette. She had become quite the slut and had a small posse of students who came to our room to avail themselves of her talents almost every night. I knew that, like me, she found validation in being desired in her feminine guise. As ‘Piggy’ she was vilified and bullied but as ‘Betty’ she was an object of desire for those who fancied our type. She had betrayed me and offered me to Timothy Valentine to save herself but I couldn’t blame her.”

“‘Oh my god what has he done to you?’ Betty jumped off the bed and took me in her arms and consoled me. I cried it all out and told her what the man I thought I loved had done. ‘You're well rid of him and I’m well rid of Oliver and Sebastian. Tomorrow they will be gone and we never have to see them again,’ Betty held me close and patted me on the back,” Julia sighed at the recollection.

“And that was that. I set my resolve to put it all out of my mind. I was finished with being used by men. I ditched all my female paraphernalia and the next day I asked to be moved into a single dorm as was my entitlement now that I was about to become a senior. It wasn’t that easy of course. It took all of my willpower and but eventually the memories faded and I replaced them with others. I suppressed the urge to crossdress until I graduated and then I made the decision that eventually I would live my life as a woman but as a strong woman who would no longer be the plaything of lecherous men,” Julia straightened her skirt and visibly relaxed on the chaise lounge.

It was if unburdening herself of the recently returned memories had somehow refreshed and renewed her.

“Well I must say that I’m glad that we have gotten through the worst of your retrieved memories. How do you feel now?” Susan asked.

“I feel unburdened. I can’t believe I disremembered the things they made me do. Now that I have acknowledged and confessed to someone what happened I think I can move on with my life,” Julia sighed.

“Well we have done the hard work but there is still more to come. We need to work together to deal with the mental anguish that recalling those incidents may have done to your psyche,” Susan patted Julia’s knee.

“Also I am duty bound to ask you if you want to report Timothy Valentine and his two accomplices to the authorities. I remind you again that the United Kingdom has no statute of limitations for criminal offences beyond minor summary offences,” Susan stated.

“How can I? I would have to go to court and tell people what happened. As I have told you, I felt complicit even willing. I never fought the men who took advantage of me, I never told anyone other than Betty. I even enjoyed it, I climaxed when they did those things to me. I convinced myself that their lust for me validated my femininity. I was Tim’s willing concubine,” tears streamed down Julia’s face.

“Many victims and survivors blame themselves for what happened to them. They feel guilty, or feel ashamed. These feelings of shame, guilt and self-blame can be very hard to deal with. But, if you are feeling like this, you are not alone - it's a really common response,” Susan ripped a handful of tissues from the box on the table and handed them to Julia then she continued.

“It’s not unusual that you feel like you were 'asking for it' or that you are 'dirty' or there is something wrong with you. You think that if you had done something differently, then it wouldn't have happened. These feelings make it really hard to talk about what happened or to get support. But you are through that now,” Susan patted Julia’s knee again, this time leaving her hand there briefly.

“The only people who are to blame for what happened are the perpetrators,” Susan removed her hand from Julia’s knee.

“I came to see you because you guarantee confidentiality. I don’t want to report those men to the authorities and have to tell them what happened. Anyway even if I did it would be ‘he said – she said’. Timothy Valentine still has those pictures. I can just imagine them being passed around a jury. I can imagine the members of the jury looking up from those pictures then looking at me,” Julia’s mood changed from sorrow to anger.

“You're projecting Julia. I’m no legal expert but I’m sure that your counsel could have them supressed or whatever. The case would likely be heard in closed court. Anyway you don’t even know if Mister Valentine still has the pictures,” Susan replied.

“He still has them. You haven’t asked what triggered my recollections,” Julia looked Susan squarely in the eyes.

“Retraumatization is usually caused by an event that immediately reminds you of a fear that was experienced during a previous traumatic event. It may happen when, because of a triggering event, circumstances remind you of earlier trauma,” Susan explained.

“Exactly, and that’s how I know that Timothy Valentine still has the photographs. I saw him two months ago although it is more accurate to say that he saw me first,” Julia said through gritted teeth.

“You have no idea what it was like being trans woman back in the days when I made the bold move to finally live my life as a woman. Up until then I was still what people refer to as a ‘closet crossdresser’. In the evenings and at weekends I would live as Julia but I presented as Julian out in public. I got a job in advertising which suited my artistic skills combined with my business acumen,” Julia smiled at the memory.

“I quickly rose through the ranks working as a copywriter, graphic designer, market researcher and finally became a creative director for a large advertising firm based in London. I frequented trans-friendly establishments outside of work where I met others like myself and of course I encountered many ‘tranny-chasers’ who I confess I sometimes took as lovers,” Julia blushed.

“But then daddy died. Mother had already passed and of course daddy left everything to my sister Belinda. I was cut out of the will. But Belinda thought it only fair that I receive my share of the substantial inheritance and she gave me half.”

“I quit my job and essentially went into hiding while I had my surgeries and started hormone therapy. I was finally able to become the woman I always wanted to be. The legalities were complicated and too time consuming to go into but I was able to legally change my name. Actually legally changing my gender was not possible for some time,” Julia sighed.

“I came out of hiding and set up my own small agency and was soon successful. Very few people recognised me from my former life and those that did gracefully kept schtum. I moved mainly among people associated with the arts where flamboyance and queerness was often the norm.”

“My business grew and I was making a lot of money and by the time I was able to legally change my gender I was for all intent and purposes a woman anyway. I didn’t advertise my transgender identity but I didn’t hide it either. I’d buried those bad memories. Of course I still remembered my early life: being found crossdressed by mommy and daddy, acting in the female role in the play at the Chelmsford Academy, dressing up with Betty in our dorm room in the evenings, fagging for Timothy Valentine but I couldn’t recall the incidents with Uncle Charlie and his friend or being Timothy’s concubine,” Julia paused to take a sip of water.

“I was at a party about two months ago when I ran into Timothy Valentine for the first time since I had left the Chelmsford Academy. He hadn't changed that much. Sure he was older but he was still fit and still remarkably handsome. The party was for the launch of a new fashion label and my company had the advertising contract. Tim was on the board of the company but I didn’t know that of course,” Julia continued.

“To be honest when we met I didn’t think he recognised me as the person he once knew as Julian Wallace who had been his fag at college. He was polite and attentive and he even introduced me to me his wife, an attractive, vapid woman at least ten years younger than he,” Susan picked up on Julia's dislike for the woman and even felt there might be a tinge of jealousy.

“I didn’t think anything of it really; I had sometimes encountered people from my past who had no idea that they had once known me as Julian. But Tim had recognised me and what happened when I met him again triggered the recollections of what really happened to me in my late teens and early twenties,” Julia smoothed her skirt nervously.

“I would like to stop you there Julia. Let’s pick this up at our next session,” Susan looked up at the clock and then back at Julia.

Julia alighted from the lounge and stepped into her heels and put on her jacket and was ready to leave when Susan stepped into her very closely and put her hands on Julia's upper arms.

“You really are a brave and courageous woman. I know that this is hard but you have to realise that none of what you told me is your fault,” Susan locked eyes with Julia.

Susan could smell Julia’s Dior Poison and up this close she could see that Julia was a very beautiful woman despite her age. This closeness was disconcerting and Susan was feeling things that were very inappropriate for a psychiatrist to feel for a patient.

Julia wrapped her arms around Susan and hugged her. This was not uncommon after a particularly intense counselling session and Susan allowed it. Then Julia brushed her lips against Susan’s catching her off guard. Susan should have stepped away and established professional boundaries but instead she let Julia kiss her and she responded, closed mouthed. Then Julia slipped her tongue into Susan’s mouth and held her tight and Susan let her. Then she disentangled herself from Julia’s embrace and cleared her throat.

“This is something else we should talk about during our next session. It’s called transference and it is not uncommon for a patient to experience sexual or romantic feelings about their therapist. Let’s call it a day for now,” Susan purposefully walked to the door and opened it for Julia who left the room without saying another word.

Susan closed and locked the door to her office and pressed the button on her intercom.

“Give me fifteen minutes before you send in the next patient please Wendy,” Julia tried to sound professional.

Susan fell into her chair and struggled to hike up her pencil skirt. She put her hand to her pubis and discovered that the crotch of her knickers and tights were wet with vaginal juices. She used her fingers to rub out an orgasm that was so intense that she bit the back of her other hand to stifle her moans.

To be continued…