"Dr. Wendy Gran Takes On a New Patient." ~ Domme seeking longterm partner

[MsCJP]

You settle uncomfortably into one of the high back leather chairs. It squeaks as you slide into it. You sit up, feeling like you’re slouching, and adjust your tie for the hundredth time. You flip your wrist to check your rolex watch for the thousandth time.

Breathe … breathe … just let the air into your lungs …

You glance around the office. You needed a distraction. There’s a precision to everything. An order. If Iris was here she’d say the room had good feng-shui. Not that she knew what that meant. The woman had hired an interior decorator for every place you’d lived together. But the office does feel calming. There’s a gentle serenity to it offset by some of the chrome furniture. You eyes move up to the bookcase built into the opposite wall. It’s lined with headstone sized books on psychology, anatomy, the human mind, etc. You check your watch again and decide to stand.

You walk over to the bookshelf and peruse the shelves a little closer. You pull a book out called Living with Depression and thumb through it without much interest. You put it back and as you’re about to return to your chair your eyes catch a slim book almost hidden in plain sight between two much larger books. You pull out it. The title reads: It’s a Man’s World … Until it’s Not - Being an Alpha Female in Today’s Society. A little chuckle escapes your lips. What an odd book to find here. Must be for research. The book cover shows a man in a business suit kneeling down before the tall leather spike heels of an unseen woman.

“Mr. Issac?” you hear a voice say behind you and you fumble to put the book back.

You turn to see a strikingly beautiful woman standing near the office door. Then, she’s walking across the carpet and extends a well manicured hand with glossy, burgundy colored nails. You take it into your own and feel her strong grip.

“I’m Dr. Gran,” she says. “You can call me Wendy. Please, have a seat and we can get started.”

Your world blurs for a moment. Dr. Gran is a woman. Oh god. Why hadn’t Dr. Lewis told you that before the referral? The blood starts to roar in your ears when you think about the things you had written on your self-evaluation form prior to the transfer.

She sits in the seat across from you. It’s like your breath can’t get into your lungs fast enough. The woman is captivating to say the least. She has dark brown hair. Deep cobalt blue eyes and a stunning white smile. Her outfit is … well intimidating. Which is odd for you to feel, but you brush it aside. It’s a possible hold over after seeing the book on her shelf. She’s wearing a white silk blouse, a dark blazer and leather pants with shiny, pointed toe heels. You can’t help but watch her foot dangle as she crosses her legs.

“I understand that Dr. Lewis recommend you to me,” she says. “I have some notes from your evaluation form, but would you care to tell me what brings you to me.”

“Well,” you try to begin. This was all so much easier when it was just you and the piece of paper you filled out. “I had an … an incident at work where I — I lost my temper with a co-worker. I said some things I’m not proud of. I’m currently serving a six week suspension.”

She nods, jots something down onto the pad resting on her knee.

“According to Dr. Lewis’ notes this is the third such incident with a female co-worker in the last year and a half. Is that correct?”

Your turn to nod.

“In your evaluation form you also wrote that you haven’t been able to achieve an erection with your wife for the past six months. You listed stress and lack of libido. You still feel that way?”

A warm flash of heat passes through your face. You try to find a response but your mouth is cotton. You swallow hard to compose yourself. It sounds so much more — more pathetic coming from her lips. If this has bothered her she doesn’t let on.

“We can begin wherever you’d like,” she says. “But my recommendation would be to start with the event that happened last weekend.”

No. You can’t. You’d surely die of humiliation if you have to say this out loud to this woman, but Christ, she already knows doesn't she? It’s all written down there on the form. She knows that you thought Iris was off visiting her parents. You had some downtime. Alone time. You’d planned the whole weekend. You’d laid out the beautiful wardrobe that you’d purchased online just for you to wear — not to mention the lingerie and then stupid Iris —

“Mr. Issac?” she says, a small smile spreading over her red lip. “I want to help you.” It’s like her voice sounds miles away. “I have changed many of my patient’s lives for the better. But you just need to trust me.”



Hi everyone,

Thanks for stopping in. I hope you're having a good Sunday wherever you are. I hope you enjoyed reading this too. I know it's a bit long, but I wanted to set the tone for a potential partner. Please get in touch if I caught your interest.

A few things before you write to me:

• Please check out my profile for ONs/OFFs.
• Please be fun, sophisticated, intelligent and have a good grasp on detailed writing, grammar, etc
• Please enjoy storytelling and a good conversationalist