Sexual Deviance
Part 7 - Doctor Kavanagh's Diagnosis
F/f, romantic, bondage, humiliation, toys
You're dead to us...
You've destroyed this family.
How could you, Megan? How could you?
Dead!
Your studies finished like that...
I'll cut you out of our will. You'll not get a penny. Not a penny!
Oh, Megan...
Look at what you've done to your mother! Look at her!
I always knew something was wrong. She never wanted to play with dolls like the
other girls.
Please, Mum, Dad, it's not like that, it's not...
Get out!
If only you could meet Donna, you'll see...
Bring that whore around here and I'll be doing time for murder.
Dad...
Get out! I don't have a daughter.
--------
"Hmm," purred Doctor Kavanagh. "Interesting."
Meg was silent, her head bowed. She had not wanted to relive that again. It had
been bad enough the first time, and the twenty times after that. She wanted to
cry, but she just didn't feel capable of tears.
"When was this?"
"About... I don't know, a few months after I moved in with Donna. Not long after
I dropped out. I wanted to tell them... about both things at the same time."
"Hmm. I take it that reaction was not... unexpected."
"I... I'd hoped for..."
"Did you make any further attempts at contacting them?"
"Two. One was on Mum's brithday. The other was when my brother got engaged."
"I assume neither went well."
"They returned the card I got Mum. Wouldn't even see me when I went around for
my brother's engagement party."
"Did Donna suggest you try?"
"I didn't want to, but she... talked me into it."
"What about her family? Do they know?"
"She doesn't see them much. They live abroad."
"Do they know what she likes to do?"
"She's told them she's a lesbian, if that's what you mean."
"Don't be cheeky with me, whore. My headache is fading a little, but only a
little. I am in no mood for your sarcasm."
"I'm sorry, Doctor."
"I doubt that. But anyway, you said you had a brother. Tell me about him."
"He's three years older than I am. He's a lawyer. Commercial law. He'd be
married now, I think. I heard they had a baby on the way."
"Let me guess. He was always the popular one. Handsome, charming, did well at
school, played sport, won medals, that sort of thing."
"Yes. How did you...?"
"Unlike some people, Megan, I am not stupid. I suppose your parents wanted you
to conform. If this was America, they'd want you to be a cheerleader or
something, right?"
"Yes. That... sort of thing."
"Hmm. Well, my diagnosis is coming together. Unlike you, Megan. You are only
coming apart. Tell me, how did Donna react when you returned home after your
'coming out' party with your family?"
---------
"Oh, sweetie, I'm so sorry..."
Meg couldn't speak. She just couldn't form the words. How could they have said
such things? To call her...
They were her family! The only family she had. They were all she had, and they
had... they had... how could they have...
"They'll come around. They just need time, that's all. They'll come around."
No, they won't, you stupid bitch! This was all your fault! If you hadn't talked
me into telling them, if you hadn't...
If you hadn't made me feel so happy... none of the others would have cared what
my parents knew. It was only you, only you who tried to make this a proper
relationship.
Meg said nothing as Donna rocked her gently. How could she be feeling those
things? Thinking those things? Donna loved her. Without her, Meg would have
nothing...
Donna kissed her forehead gently. "There, there," she whispered.
"Hurt me," Meg whispered.
"What? I'm sorry, sweetie, I didn't hear..."
Meg stepped back, her face streaked with tears. "Hurt me. Whip me. Beat me.
Treat me like a... a... whore."
"Meg..."
"Hurt me!"
They'd experimented, trying out various things. Bondage, of course. Donna had
some light whips, some nipple clamps, but nothing worse than that. They'd
play-acted rape and torture scenarios, but nothing more than play-acting. Donna
never let it get too far.
Now, Meg couldn't care.
"Hurt me! I need to be hurt... to be... punished... I'm filthy... I... I..." She
slumped to her knees. "I'm dirty... I need to be punished... need to be..."
Donna held her tightly. "I'll be here," she whispered. "I'll always be here."
----------
"Interesting. That's what she said. 'I'll always be here.'"
"I... I think so."
"You think so?"
"I don't remember it exactly."
"You're describing a night like that, one of the most undoubtedly emotional of
your life, and you can't remember exactly what was said to you. Come on now,
Megan. You have to be honest with me."
"That's what she said."
"Hmm... Let me try and continue the story. She held you for a while, and then
took you to bed, where she did things to you, things that you no doubt enjoyed,
as disgusting perverts like you, tend to. She loved you she loved you a lot,
which you naturally believed. You became more convinced that you loved her as
well. Am I warm?"
"That's... yes... that's what happened."
"Your Donna must be an incredibly perceptive woman."
"Yes... she is."
Doctor Kavanagh stretched, never taking her eyes off the half-naked girl sitting
opposite her. "I am actually finding myself partly respecting her, as grotesque
as that sounds. Intelligent, manipulative, the sort of woman who knows what she
wants and takes it... I can almost relate. Why she would want someone like you
is, alas, beyond my judgment, but I suppose it takes all kinds."
"But..."
"Shut up, slut! I am talking, and you will not interrupt me!
"From the first moment I saw you, I was pretty convinced as to what you were.
The more we have talked, and the more I have seen you, the more certain I have
become. What you have told me now just confirms my opinion.
"You suffer from chronically low self-esteem. This is not surprising, not even
to you, I imagine. An over-achieving brother. Traditionally minded parents. A
lack of aptitude for school that leads to you having to cheat at exams. Passed
over by the boys at school to the extent where the only one interested in you is
some worthless drug addict..."
"That's not what..."
"Be silent!
"There, that's better. Now, where was I?
"Ah, yes. You probably had perverse tendencies for some time. It was that...
Melissa Young that first brought them out. From what you've told me, she sounds
like a dominant-control personality. She had no lesbian tendencies as such, and
was probably entirely heterosexual, a fact confirmed by you telling me she fell
pregnant.
"It was just that she saw you as being someone with low self-esteem, found out
some information with which to control you, and took advantage of that. Such
people like to be in control of weaker individuals. It re-affirms their own
superiority. She was not interested in you sexually, or physically. It was
just... a way to dominate you that you would find most embarrassing. An ugly,
inexperienced virgin with no boyfriends and a traditional family. It would have
been the easiest way for her to force control over you. She tired of you
eventually, of course, moving on to other fields. After that first time, it was
probably just habit for her anyway.
"Then, you went to university, taking a difficult course that was clearly well
beyond you academically. You should never even have been admitted to it. For
that, I suppose, you can blame the Government and their ridiculous obsession
with getting everyone into higher education. Oh well, that's their problem.
"The workload no doubt confirmed your inner feelings of inadequacy. You knew you
would not be able to get a boyfriend, even in such an environment as university,
where men will sleep with anything with breasts. You rationalised this as being
that you were a lesbian, and this was why boys were not interested in you.
"So, you turned to girls. They were no doubt also dominant-control personality
types, modelling your only lesbian experience up to that time, even though it
was not really sexual in nature. None of those people were interested in a
relationship, and if they were, it was certainly not with someone like you.
After all, you had no respect for yourself, jumping into bed with every woman in
sight. Why should they have any respect for you?
"Then, enter Miss Nicholls. Donna at least, represents a variation in your
predictible and trite pattern. While she is clearly into dominance and control,
she is a rarer and more subtle type. You see, she craves emotional dominance
just as much as physical. Not for her just to fuck you while you are lightly
tied up, no. She wants you to feel total emotional dependence on her.
"Think about it. Every major decision of your life after meeting her, whether to
drop out of university, or to move in with her, or to come out to your parents,
was made after talking with her. I imagine she did most of the talking.
"Isolated from your family, with no peer groups around, a series of
soul-destroying jobs, no one remaining but her... and it comes to the stage when
she is all you identify with. Her ideas are those you consider normal. Whether
she regards lesbianism and fetishism as normal behaviour or not, I don't know,
but she has convinced you they are normal. You indulge in vile, perverted acts
and think it is in the name of love.
"I mean, really, Megan. You were found unconscious by a public roadway wearing
only a pair of leather panties. What sort of slut are you?
"She has only brought forward was what already there. You feel weak and isolated
and alone, blaming everyone else for their successful lives. The only source of
pleasure open to you is sexual, and even that you associate with submission and
worthlessness.
"You take sexual pleasure in foul acts, and you try to rationalise it to
yourself. You, Miss Hayden, are a slut, and a whore, and a disgusting, vile
little wretch. It may be the modern belief to say that this is not your fault,
that all manner of activities are reasonable and permissible, but I do not
agree. Some things are right, and some things are wrong. Thrashing around,
humping the air like some beast in rut is most definitely wrong.
"Fortunately for you, I suppose, treatment is at hand. You are in the best place
in the country to treat sexual deviance such as yours. It is not easy, and you
have to want to change, but it can be done. The first step, as I have said, is
recognising what you are and deciding to be something else.
"Well, what do you have to say?"
There was a long pause.
"Donna wasn't... wasn't like that..."
Doctor Kavanagh sighed. "Oh, for... I point out to you your numerous
psycho-sexual illnesses and offer a course of treatment and your first act is to
try to defend the slut who helped mould you into what you are. She is, at least
partly, to blame for this..."
"No, that's not..."
"If she was a man, if you had a succession of dysfunctonal encounters with
emotionally abusive and demanding men, if your already low self-esteem had been
lowered and weakened by men, then that would be entirely accepted. But because
you're some filthy lesbian slut-whore, I'm wrong.
"Well, Miss Slut, perhaps you can do better! You, with your half-completed...
no, not even half... with your hardly-even-started degree, perhaps you can do
better than me, a qualified psyhiatrist, an expert in the field of sexual
disorders. I give evidence at criminal trials, did you know that? I'm on the
books of some of the most reputable solicitors in the country as an expert!
You're just some stupid little girl just smart enough to know what a pathetic
bitch she is!
"Come on, tell me! Do better than me! I'm sure you learned a lot all that time
Donna kept you tied to your bed with your face in her groin!"
Silence.
Doctor Kavanagh had jumped up to her feet at some point during this, bending
over the table, her low cut blouse revealing an excellent view of her impressive
cleavage. She was flushed with clear anger, and her eyes were blazing.
Meg found, to her horror, warmth rising in her belly, and dampness forming in
her groin.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
She had not taken the words in. There had been too many of them... so many...
and saying...
stupid little girl just smart enough to know what a pathetic bitch she is
you had no respect for yourself
some filthy lesbian slut-whore
passed over by the boys at school to the extent where the only one interested in
you is some worthless drug addict
vile, perverted acts
disgusting perverts like you
Meg began to cry, her head dropping.
"Oh, and now tears. A futile attempt to wring sympathy from me. Always a resort.
Every fucking time.
"If you want to remain some slut, that's your perogative. If you want to be
better, to not have to feel this way, then look at me and tell me that!"
Meg lifted her head, her eyes red and raw.
"Well?"
"I want to be better," she whispered.
"I didn't hear that."
"I want to be better."
"Well, good. About fucking time."
Doctor Kavanagh sat down, and pulled out another two painkillers. "Stupid,
fucking bitch," she muttered to herself. "My fucking head..."
She sat there for a moment, rubbing at her forehead before she looked up.
"There, that'll do for now.
"So, you want to be better. It won't be easy."
"I know." Meg squirmed awkwardly. She was aroused. Her body was burning. Dull at
the moment, but it would grow. Once it did...
She had never had an orgasm before that first night with Donna. Afterwards, she
had had hundreds. She had come to enjoy being aroused, being pleasure..
vile, perverted acts...
Doctor Kavanagh hated her, looked down upon her. She must know what Meg was
feeling now. She must know.
It was true. Meg was a pervert...
some filthy lesbian slut-whore
Doctor Kavanagh sniffed the air, frowning. "You will have to learn that arousal
is wrong. The hard work is in your mind, not your body. Saying that your body
makes you feel this way is just an excuse of a coward. If you want to be better,
we have to convince your mind."
She reached out to the Newton's cradle. Only, instead of playing with the silver
balls, she began to slowly and carefully unscrew them, pooling them in a small
crystal bowl that Meg had assumed was an ashtray.
"Get up and walk over to the desk."
Awkwardly, off balance, her arse still sore from Kara's rape, and the muscles in
her legs stinging from having been sat down so long, Meg managed it.
"Lean forward over the desk. More. More. God, how fucking stupid are you? Put
your face right up against the surface of the desk. Keep your legs straight.
Spread them apart. Oh, for... like this."
Doctor Kavanagh got up and moved around to behind Meg, pushing her head down
hard against the desk, hitting the side of her face onto the cold wooden
surface. She then forced Meg's legs apart.
"Don't dare let any of these fall out. Not one."
Meg stiffened. Her pussy was damp, and sticky with her arousal. Doctor Kavanagh
brushed the folds of her sex lightly, and she shuddered.
Then, one of the metal balls was slid carefully inside her. It was not cold, but
the feeling was strange. Meg gasped, and tried to move. She cried out as her
head was pushed back down.
"Stay there, slut!"
She remained there as the other four balls were slowly fed into her. She had
heard of ben wa balls but never tried them. The feeling was awkward, but not
uncomfortable. They clanked together inside her. She felt... full, almost
swollen.
No sooner had Doctor Kavanagh stepped back than one of the balls threatened to
slide free from her. Clamping her muscles together quickly, Meg held it inside,
but gasped out in pain.
She had no idea how long she remained there, bent over the desk, struggling to
hold the balls inside her. The strain on her muscles was immense. One slip, one
moment's relaxation, and they would fall free. She did not know what Doctor
Kavanagh would do to her if that happened, but she knew it would not be
pleasant.
The least she could expect was another scornful insult, and that was almost as
bad as a whipping (although not as bad as more electro-therapy from Mistress
Kara - she could not endure any more of that).
Just when she thought she could not take any more, she felt graceful,
long-nailed fingers touch her pussy, gently pushing the balls back in. Something
cold and leather was then placed over the groin, and pulled between her legs.
Doctor Kavanagh had been slow and careful with inserting the ben wa balls. She
was anything but when it came to forcing the dildo into Meg's arse. The poor
girl threw her head back in a shriek of sudden pain, but the doctor soon forced
her back down, slamming her head roughly into the desk. Reeling, her eyes
swimming, Meg was left to tremble in pain as the straps of the chastity belt
were fixed around her waist and legs, clipping on to the bottom of the
straitjacket.
"There. Stand up."
Meg did so. It was painful. Her arse burned, and every movement of her legs made
the pain worse. The dull ache that had come from Kara's rape had gone, replaced
by a burning penetration.
And the balls were moving about inside her, clacking together, causing shivers
of... something to run through her body.
"Arousal is wrong," Doctor Kavanagh repeated. "Certainly the way you have been
feeling it. You are now in pain, or you should be. You are also in arousal, or
again, you should be. I trust the juxtaposition is not lost on you.
"Nurse Tanaka is going to take you somewhere that will give you ample time to
think on what you are. The greatest breakthrough will happen in your own mind. I
am quite willing to leave you like that until you come to accept this.
"Now, do you have anything to say to me?"
Meg's head dropped.
"Thank you, Doctor Kavanagh."
Next: A Position of Therapy
