SWEET SUBMISSION by Cate

"Now hold it there,"I said " I don't think you could say I'm .what you say. I get on well with men and I have had several lovers. There was Jeff.I've already mentioned him quite a bit."

" Well, there was perhaps an element of that in the original problem" Dr Shaw said,

"That business with your sister?"

"That's different. It's part of my.what we were talking about last year"

"You shy away from that suggestion because of the incest taboo, perhaps?"

"Well, you know I'd never.you know?"

"You think it is unconnected with your compulsions, your submission desires?"

"Huh?"

"That they are in no way sexual?"

"Well, yes, maybe. She was always."

"We've been through all this, Cate, haven't we?" She sighed, put her fingertips together and held them as if in prayer in front of her lips, almost kissing them. Full pink lips, short dark hair, a tiny mole on her square jaw. " I know you sister was a bossy-boots when you were growing up. That she dominated you. Maybe there was a deep psychological effect, maybe not. Maybe it's something unresolved in YOU." She crossed her legs and tapped her teeth with the end of her gold pen.

"Obviously I'm not here to be judgmental.".

You couldn't call the doctor exactly good-looking, but she was smart, alert and not a mousy nonentity like me. I was always torn between wanting to please her and wanting her to despise me. "Ever since my sister kicked me out." I managed to get out, then started to weep. "This low self-esteem you complain of." she handed me a tissue, indifferently. I liked that in a way, although it humiliated me, maybe, here's a wild thought, BECAUSE it humiliated me?

"You must really let me.I mean. if I'm to help you" "And she's still in the house with Jeff," I bawled, the tissue a snotty mess in my hands, I'm out of control again now, I thought, sniffling, my eyes running and my face a mess, I knew I was behaving stupidly as usual, too quick to deny everything. How could she help me if I was like this? I always started off okay, sometimes on the leather couch if I was relaxed enough to stay still, more often in the armchair, one leg swinging nervously over the knee of the other, pulling at my fingernails in embarrassment. I was afraid that, after twelve months of this, that Dr Shaw was getting pretty bored with me, although there had been bits to do with my sister that had riveted her in her chair when I first told her. How dare she get bored listening to me! - She was being PAID to do it! Sometimes I got a bit dopey in the middle of the sessions and once I fell asleep. I asked her if I could stop taking the drugs but she said no, not yet. The one time I did forget to take them I became overexcited and she terminated the session.

Today she was more interested in how I had got involved with that woman on the Internet. Why did I tell her this anyway? I suppose to stop her being bored with me. "Thank you very much," she said tartly.

"This started six months ago and you are only mentioning it now." She was quite cross and I loved this. At least she was beginning to notice me and was coming out of her shell. Yes, that's why I told her. Slightly, advancing, then retreating again. I looked around at the framed Medicine and Psychiatry certificates, the dark green floor-length curtains and heavy furniture. "Is it relevant?" I asked. I sniggered to myself. She would hate this, because it was one of her favourite questions. She would get me for this! I felt a thrill at the idea, deep down there. The blare of an ambulance sounded in the street and I could hear the faint sound of a telephone through the heavy oak doors. She sighed

"Maybe you could just talk," she said. "Well," I said, "You know I write a bit.have had a few things posted on the net.nothing much recently.. Anyway, I had a couple of stories posted on a site on."

"Lesbian in content?"

"Not really." "How would you describe them?" "Well, erotic.with lesbian bits. Anyway, this woman wrote to me.She was. quite complimentary. Asked where she could see more of my stuff."

"And you were attracted?" "I didn't say that. No, I was scared at first. And I wasn't sure at first if she really was a woman. She could have been some old guy with no teeth down in Arkansas."

"So what happened then?" Well, at first we just exchanged short emails. It was like we were dancing. We were flirting lightly, I suppose." The doctor crossed her legs. "And?"

"I liked her a lot. Then she began to up the tempo - started writing me maybe five thousand words at a time.." "How did that make you feel?" "I was scared."

"Why is that, do you think?" "I wasn't sure I could match her. her intensity. But I replied. And it went on from there. I think I fell in love with her pretty quickly. I'm not sure when. It sort of crept up on me, but then I was lost. She sort of had me." "You adopted a submissive attitude to her?" "Well, yes, but. "

"I suggest that perhaps you forced it on her." "No, she was domineering all right.the things she made me do."

"Would you say you became intimate with her?" "Well, she confessed to me that she...uh... that she masturbated." "That was hardly news, in the circumstances." "Sorry?" "Well, she was snooping around these porn sites."

"They weren't porn sites - oh, they had pop ups and things, but some of the writing was okay." "Anything else" Well, she sent me some dirty pictures." "And then?" "Well, I suppose I confessed quite a lot about my.my feelings too. We told each other a lot" "About your sister, for instance?" I mumbled something

"Can you speak up, Cate, I can't hear you." "She said she'd like to punish her for me. To get her down and torture her."

"So you told her what your sister used to do to you?" "Yes," I mumbled. "But, why, Cate?" "I thought it might help." "But you've been telling me. Is there anything you haven't told ME, Cate?" The doctor was smiling at me. Her face was like a big schoolgirl's, open and friendly. She was inviting me to tell her, now was my chance. I shook my head, vehemently. "You told her just what your sister used to do to you when you were kids?" "Yes, that sort of thing." "And that you were made do her washing? That you were addicted to sniffing her panties? But that your sister was not really interested in you? That she mostly ignored you? I nodded again "But you wanted her to treat you like a slave - you sister, I mean. And now this other woman?" "Martha, she called herself. Martha B, but I just called her Martha." I had lied to Dr Shaw about a lot of things, I don't really know why. But she knew most of the things about my sister. How she used to wrestle with me in the barn and then sit on me for up to an hour and drool spit down onto my face. She had made me her slave, and I'd accepted that, but now she didn't want me as her slave. Okay, she had been happy enough for me to do her housework, to be her housegirl, but that wasn't enough for me, it didn't satisfy me. But she'd shown her superiority when it suited her. Like when she'd stolen Jeff from me. Since I left I have often masturbated, thinking of her making love with Jeff, imagining his cock inside her like it had often been inside me. I remembered the day when he was banging me in our room and she knocked on the door. We were doing it standing up and Jeff answered her, he was gasping a bit, leaning against the wall. I was impaled on his cock and they were talking to each other as if I didn't exist - talking about the lock on the hall door she wanted him to fix. I complained to Jeff afterwards, I said. "You were talking to her as if I didn't exist." And he said, "Shut up." Now he's with her and she's kicked me out. Was Dr Shaw was trying to suggest I was a lesbian? How could I be when I liked a man's cock inside me? But I'm going to ask my sister to take me back. I have a whole lot of pairs of her panties I took away with me, dirty ones and I'll bet she's missed them. I wondered if Dr Shaw was a lesbian, asking me all those questions? Whatever she might think, I wasn't a lesbian and the feelings my sister made me have were nothing to do with that. Low self-esteem was what it was and, so far as I was concerned it was incurable. Then why was I coming here and paying these fees? I may have needed counselling, but I wasn't crazy. I wondered did Dr Shaw wear pantyhose or stockings. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had stockings on. I had never worn stockings, I wouldn't have the nerve, but some women could get away with it. My sister, for instance, was a case in point. I had tried on her stockings a couple of hundred times. Eventually I burst a seam in her garterbelt and she punched me in the eye when she found out. But usually she ignored me. I desired something badly, but what I desired I didn't know. Dr Shaw was forcing me to tell her more than I wanted to about Martha B. Why had I mentioned her in the first place if I was going to lie about her? Well, I believe you can get help without revealing every little thing. It had been possible to say things to Martha that I would never say to anyone face to face. So I told Dr Shaw about the photographs Martha made me take of myself and scan and send to her. Not all the details, not about the one where she made me smear my face with my own. well, I don't want to write about that either. But I did tell her about.well, other things.

"Why did you do it?" Dr Shaw said.

"This could have something to do with the root of your trouble. Have you, I mean. in your childhood.?"

"Definitely not," I said, but I could see she didn't believe me. "And she made you put dye in it?"

"Yes, so it would show up in the photograph."

"Are you crazy or something? I mean, couldn't you have lied to her? Did you have to do everything she told you?" "She sent me her underpants too, her panties."

"You gave her your address?"

"No, the address of the Cancer Care place where I worked. She sent them in a plastic bag in a package of used clothes - good stuff. Quality clothes, we call them and we put them in the windows and on the hangers in the store."

"These.panties."

"They were her dirty panties. She made me wear them. They looked like she had deliberately worn them for two or three days, although I'd say she's the clean, particular type normally. But this was another test. I'm wearing a pair of them now."

"Jesus!" Dr Shaw said, "I thought you said you were no longer in contact."

"I can't put her out of my mind."

"Tell me how it ended," Dr Shaw said, shifting in her chair and recrossing her legs She glanced at her watch and I saw it was nearly five on the clock on the wall. I had to be careful coming to the end of a session, because I usually got more talkative then and I might say something if I wasn't careful.

"She tried to make me do something," I said.

"Yes?" "Well, I couldn't. it was impossible."

"Couldn't you have lied to her?"

"No, she'd have known. And she said it was something.something she'd know about, she said. She said I couldn't fool her." "So you couldn't do this thing.?"

"No."

"Can you tell me why?"

"No, I'm sorry," I said.

"So what happened then?" The doctor glanced at her watch again

"I.I faked my own death..I mean, I sent an email from my sisters mailbox saying I'd been killed in an apartment fire." "Good Christ..was that really necessary?" "There was no way out.I'd told her I was completely hers. She'd accepted me. I didn't have the right to .to just stop. You've no idea.how close we were. I LOVED her. But she." I started crying again. Dr Shaw reached for the box of tissues. "She wrote back.to my sister. Offering her condolences. That's when the shit.hit the proverbial.Oh God, it was terrible." "Go on, please." "She probably didn't believe me and was trying to punish me" "And how do you feel about that?" "I hoped she'd write to me again. That she'd forgive me, but instead she went on punishing me" "Tell me about this. How she punished you."

"Well, I said, "she even wrote to the story site and the newsgroups connected with it. They put "tragic death of promising young writer" on the message boards and then my sister wrote to everyone and told them I'd faked it. By this time someone had written "Cate - an appreciation of her fiction". So they all went crazy. I was treated worse than a spammer. Much worse. My stuff was taken off and I was banned from the site. Then my sister threw me out." I started on another bad crying jag. The doctor looked at her watch again and checked it against the clock. I saw it all blurry with tears. It was five past five.

"Well, time up," the doctor said.

"Cate, I've got to say this. You've been considerably less than frank with me , and, to be honest, I don't think we're going anywhere in these sessions."

"I'm s..sorry," I said. "I think it is time you stood on your own two feet, Cate," she said. "We have spoken about this time and time again." I wanted to slide off my seat and fall on my knees in front of her. I wondered what those wonderful shiny legs would feel like under my hands. But she stood up and moved behind me, putting her hands on my shoulders. It shot though me. The body electric! "I'll pay double fees," I begged. " Have you any idea when you last paid any fees?" she said sternly. " I suggest you contact your sister again and ask her to take you back." "But I cut up a whole lot of her shirts and dresses," I said. "If you can accept that your sister has taken your boyfriend.tell her this, that you have fully accepted it, she may take you back. But remember you are her equal. You are not bound by what she says, or what your mother once said, or even what I say." "But I lack self-esteem," I said. "Although your assessment of your worth may not be all that inaccurate," Dr Shaw said, "You do have quite a lot going for you. You have a kind disposition, you have a loving nature." "But that's no use," I wailed. "You have the most beautiful eyes." This stopped me in my tracks. Was she making fun of me?

"Has nobody ever told you that before? I nodded dumbly. The tears started up again. "I'm going to do something which may surprise you, Cate," Dr Shaw said. I stared at her as she walked around in front of me.

I COULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT SHE WAS DOING1!

I had thought a lot about how I could get my sister to take me back. I still had all those panties of hers and some of them were quite pretty, although there were some old grey-white cotton ones that were really only good enough to use as dusters. I could take them back and say, sorry sis, I took these by mistake. I know she would slap my face for me, but then maybe she'd say, well, you'd better come in. And there would be all that washing to do. But what I did now, I put them all in my own washing machine at the big cycle and then the rinse and then in the tumble-dryer. I knew I was still taking a chance because they might have helped in a reconciliation, but I put them in a big parcel and sent them right back to sis. Then I had a long bath and played with myself very gently between my legs and lay there soaking and dreaming, watching the big clock on the wall tick around towards four o'clock. Then I padded naked into the bedroom and lay down on the bed and masturbated luxuriously, my face in the tiny pair of panties

embroidered with pink roses that Dr Shaw had given me. That she'd taken off in her office. They were clean scented, like melon or cucumber. It felt like warm oil was dripping into my asshole. I got my fingers in my cunt and caressed my little puckered hole with the fingers of my other hand. I tried to think of Martha and my sister and even Dr Shaw, to imagine them as one person Soon the oil was boiling, the lava was pouring between the rocks. I had to bite into the soft cotton to stop myself screaming.

She drove straight from her office at five thirty and picked me up. "What exactly is happening here?" I asked. "What is our relationship?"

"You'll see," she said, " I want to show you something." We took the lift up to this apartment at the top of a grey, anonymous building on a corner. At the end of a corridor there was a small room with a computer and hi-fi equipment. On the wall were dozens of photographs. All of me. Me sitting naked in my chair with various things, a lipstick, a vibrator, sticking out of my vagina, all things Martha had made me do. Me sitting up in the bed where I had peed in it. I looked at her. Dr Shaw was smiling and she looked lovely in tailored slacks and a fresh white shirt, just a plain band of pearls around her neck. She took my hand and again I felt that electric feeling. She kissed me, a soft, cushiony kiss and then I felt her hand under my skirt. She put her hand in my panties and then she was fingerfucking me. I gently rode her finger, going along with her, because I knew this wasn't going to end here. Then she broke off and said, thickly,

"Come with me."

I was lying on the bed in my best dress while Dr Shaw took off her shirt. "When you told me in the beginning about your writing, I thought your stories would be crap," she said. She released her bra, revealing plump, perfect breasts. Then she slipped off her slacks and leaned towards me, one knee resting on the bed. "You told me you used the name Cate so a few searches threw them up. And they gave your email address, which I already knew. And it just amazed me the things that were in there. Things you weren't telling me." She crawled up on to the bed and straddled my hips. She gripped both my wrists in her hands. She was only wearing tiny white panties. "Was it like this?" she said. I nodded. "We have plenty of time," she said gently. "This would have happened much sooner if you'd told me about Martha. I gave you every chance." "I know," I said humbly. She sighed and made herself more comfortable on top of me, moving up until she was sitting on my chest. She released my wrists, but not before she had put her knees on them on each side of my head to hold them down. "Like this?" she asked. I nodded and, almost immediately, I could feel the warm stream of urine soak into my dress, the faint hissing, trickling sound, and the warm, sweet aroma of watermelon her pee had. "Your sister? This is the way the bitch put her mark on you?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "I'm sorry!"

"Why didn't you tell Dr Shaw?" she asked, "It's nothing to be ashamed of" I began to cry, as I used to do with my sister. Her bladder must have been full because there was still a steady hot stream flowing through my dress and over my skin. It was wet underneath me, soaking into my panties and the material of my dress over my breasts, down to my hips underneath. "Now I've put my mark on you," she said.

I hoped there was a rubber sheet underneath us, but, even through my tears, I didn't think I could be more happy. This was one of the things I'd never been able to tell Dr Shaw - about how my sister had done this to me so many times when we were kids, coming in and riding me naked in my bed at night, peeing on me and wetting the bed and my pyjamas, so that I'd been thrashed and branded a bedwetter by my mother. But I'd been able to tell Martha "Are we lovers?" I asked.

"We're getting very close," she said.

"And can I do your washing, all your nice things?" She leaned down and kissed me on the lips.

"If you'd only done what I asked," she said "I'm sorry." I said. "I'm sorry I didn't trust you. I can see now that it would have been okay.""

" Why didn't you do what Martha told you? "Seems silly now," I said, embarrassed.

" All you had to do was ask Dr Shaw if you could kiss her pussy," Dr Shaw said. She looked down and laughed at the expression on my face. ."But then this moment wouldn't be so sweet, would it?" She moved back a little removing her knees from my wrists and I reached up and she let me touch her breasts. She held my wrists gently, keeping my hands cupped on her breasts. I could feel her urine cooling on my body, the odour now stronger, more pungent.

"There was a reason," she said. "I wanted.as Martha. to know your reaction." "My reaction?" I said. She got off me for a bit and, kneeling on the bed beside me, peeled off the soaking transparent panties, then she climbed back on top of me again. She had a dark, untrimmed bush and, protruding from it, almost touching my chin, was a small, beautifully shaped penis. I didn't know what to say at first. But some women can carry this sort of thing off, and Dr Shaw was one of them.

"You have any problem with this?" she asked. It was semi-erect and the tip end was like a purple, veined mushroom. I reached out to touch it.

"It's beautiful," I said, "it's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." I fondled it, like I used to do with Jeff's and it rose up further until it was pressing against Dr Shaw's belly. I had always liked a cock in me. It was one of the main reasons I had never had any lesbian inclinations. Then I found she had a slit too, and put my finger in it and onto her little oyster pearl, kneading her little penis with my other hand. "In case you're wondering," she said, " I'm biologically a woman." "I know," I said, still stroking it. "Let's shower," she said thickly.

She joined me in the shower and we soaped each other under the hot spray, with me telling her how I was going to keep house for her and wash all her bras and panties and cook her meals. I couldn't keep my hands off her penis and we didn't make it back to the bed because she rammed me against the glass wall of the shower and entered me there and then, almost lifting me off my feet in her urgency. It was a lot smaller than Jeff's but even so it was enough, more than enough. I was so excited that I managed to come first while she was still frantically fighting for her climax Then we ran back to the bedroom and got into bed, warming up in each other's arms, the feeling of intimacy almost making me choke, my tongue so big in my mouth, my throat dry and then she rolled me over and climbed on top of me and we began to do it all over again.
The end.