Therapy

About your health. You know what you have to do. Quit the gp and your various indulgences. Clean your diet. Meditate to bring sleep. Exercise: stretches first then get aerobic as fast as you can.

I have to tell you this. You're part of me you know and you're letting the side down. But I'm not going to nag you about it. I'm not your fucking mother. So I'm taking you cold turkey instead...

We started with cable ties. Didn't matter about the discomfort. But longterm use could leave you disfigured. A quick trip to the local leather shop. And now we have you strapped to the wall, starfish, broad leather bands around your thighs, ankles, wrists, biceps. Even a chin strap to hold your head up. You can sleep there, the stretch in your shoulders and inner thighs to remind you of your restraint.

I can see you in the corner of my eye as I work. Mostly, I ignore you.

No cigarettes. No booze. No food. No thoughts but your own. A tube at your mouth brings plentiful water. There's a burn in your stomach which slowly ebbs. One a little lower which grows in its place.

Perfect position for some genitorture, physical and verbal. Clamps to stretch your cunt, words to humiliate it. I prefer your other cunt, this one's only good for blood and babies. The clamps improve your aim, when you have to piss (and you have to piss often, water's your only indulgence now) you can reliably hit the bucket in front of you. Just as well, a drop on the floor brings punishment.

Once in a while I clamp your clit. Twist and pull. Dangle a weight. Freed only when your gasps finally penetrate my work-focussed consciousness. For a while after that I can see the glow from over here at my desk.

At other times I bind the DDs. Watch them redden, the nipples growing. Clamp them, too, sometimes. To make sure they're really engorged. So that the merest flick of my tongue sets you writhing and gushing.

Can't neglect your remaining physical need. So once a day you are turned to the wall. It's a daily ritual, eagerly anticipated, so you are more than ready. My cock sinks in easily, your first shudder coming almost instantly. Wrist straps straining as you push back.

I lead you to the bathroom, wrists cuffed together now. You empty your bowels, squatting above the seat, even that comfort denied. After a few days all that comes out is my semen.

I stand you in the shower, hose you and scrub you like a car. The cold water makes you jump but it eases the heat in your abused cunt. I dry you. Apply soothing cream to my favorite entry. Could plug you I suppose. But I want you to feel the emptiness.

An hour of stretches, then. I'm back at work, watching from desk to be sure you're pushing your boundaries. You take care to aim your pucker at me whenever possible. So I can see that it's empty. Open. Still moist from the cream.

Back to your wall. If you've teased me to much I'll slide my cock between your cheeks. But not inside you no matter how much you twist and beg.

Finally one morning you awake with a new clarity. Toxins gone. Heaviness gone. Tits sitting a little lower over a flattened stomach. Mentally and emotionally sharp. Time to release you from your shackles. You and I have new bonds now.

The bathroom ritual one more time, it's a habit now. I let you have warm water, soap, shampoo. Your clothes feel so loose. We step together into the sparkling morning. Gently break your fast by the pool. It's the start of a whole new chapter ..