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No character is or was ever
real. No part of the story is a fantasy of the
author. No part of this story may be used or posted
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The First Therapy Meeting
Donna sat on her couch in her own living room. The ball gag in her mouth tasted bitterly. It forced her mouth open wide, and she had to swallow her own drool regularly, making sure she made soft but obscene gulping sounds. As time passed, her jaws had started to ache. Furthermore, apart from black high heels and black fishnet stockings, she was stark naked. Donna's face was heavily made up. Dark red lip gloss on her lips, she had also applied gloss on her nipples. Her eyebrows had been freshly shaven into a thin line and colored dark black. Thick black eyeliner darkened the contours of her eyes, emphasized by black mascara. The thickness of the black makeup gave her a whorish, slut-like look. An especially cheap look, Donna had made up her face with layers of panstick under light red gloss to accentuate and sharpen her cheekbones. Her eyes had the same reddish eye shadow applied to them. Finally and topping all of this, Donna had oiled her whole body, making her skin shine in the daylight. She looked kind of like a living doll - a fuck doll.
On a separate chair, with a bewildered face, sat Brigitte. Dressed normally in khaki, her blonde hair pulled backwards and simply tied, white sneakers, no makeup, Brigitte looked quite the opposite of Donna. She was the perfect picture of the ordinary housewife.
And she looked at Donna still not believing her eyes as the therapist explained what was going on. On the table lay Donna’s diary. Melinda used it to read some of Donna’s latest escapades and the sexual feelings they had aroused in her. Or so the diary claimed. With every filthy sexual activity described, Brigitte became visibly more disgusted. First curious in the beginning when Donna let her in and had explained a bit, Brigitte's look had changed first to one of disbelief and then to utter disgust.
Now Donna was sitting quietly on the couch smiling, although it was clear that she was ashamed. But that wasn’t a problem as long as Brigitte believed Donna was totally behind this. Her complete acceptance that the therapy being described was Donna's idea was essential to the survival of her family, Donna's reminded herself. As the two friends exchanged looks, the therapist just kept on talking, explaining what was going on, what was going to happen. Yes, this really wasn’t your regular morning household coffee break.
“So, as said, you will be used to verify this is all happening with the consent of your good friend Donna. That means we will meet regularly on a monthly basis to discuss the latest developments,” Melinda said. “As you can see Donna is totally into her fantasies already, and her mind is indeed kind of sick. But I’m sure that as we dig into the depths of her sexual fantasies, she’ll come out a better -- a new person.” Brigitte smiled politely at Melinda but she was still drawn to look at the freakish Donna, sitting naked opposite her. Silenced by a ball gag, made up like some fetish doll, oil almost dripping off her body, Brigitte had never seen any woman look like Donna did just now. Not in real life anyway and Brigitte couldn’t understand a woman preparing her own body like this -- like a dish on which someone was free to feast his sexual appetites. And Donna was married!
“I know,“ Melinda said reassuringly, “its weird to see your friend like this. It always is the first few times. You are used to seeing her as a friend, someone to chat with, or maybe even shop with. A mother just like you. But now, it’s as if you are really seeing her in her bed, you see her as a sexual monster. Something she has always hidden, suppressed.” Brigitte nodded. She could agree with that statement. She looked at Donna again, and let her eyes follow along Donna's glistening oiled body once again. The black high heeled shoes, the stockings, she wouldn’t even know where to buy that stuff! And then the body, she had really worked out, she had shaved her vagina, and oiled it even. It shone every now and then when Donna switched positions, though she kept her legs decently together most of the time. The latter didn’t make the scene less obscene; it appeared as if Donna was teasing her with her pose. And that made Brigitte feel even more uncomfortable. Still, the way Donna was now posed, Brigitte didn’t had the look at that shaved vagina, with the lips showing so clearly. It disgusted her to see it.
As she looked on, Brigitte could see Donna’s belly, the muscles, the glimmering piercing, its color. She had been to the tropics -- well okay, but Donna's skin was too dark to be naturally tanned. She must have artificially altered her skin color, probably in a tanning salon.
Next, Donna’s breasts were free for all to see. With the nipples made extra pink. Brigitte never in her whole life had done that; better, yet, she never would. It was degrading. And the nipples were poking out. The living doll in front of her was obviously excited. Donna clearly loved exposing herself, humiliating herself, just as she had admitted in her diary. And her face with its thick layers of make up. It turned Donna's face into a smooth mask, almost unnatural. The whorish look was fascinating -- with those darkened eyes, hair done straight back, the bright red lips around the obscene ball gag.
But most of all, the way Donna looked at her and tried to smile disgusted Brigitte. It showed Brigitte that Donna really was happy with the way she looked. True, you could see the shame in her eyes too but Brigitte understood that this was only natural.
Excitement and shame at the same time all fit the stories Melinda had read from Donna's diary, and Donna's fantasies that Melinda had summed up from it. Donna was ashamed of her actions but she just couldn’t fight her urges. Now she was under therapy and had been told to let the real slut out. The shame would one day disappear. But what she was seeing now was so different from the Donna that Brigitte had thought she knew. And Brigitte wasn’t happy at all, now that she knew the new Donna. Why hadn't Donna had kept this from her? Brigitte wished Donna had chosen someone else. This whole thing would haunt her every minute of the day. It disrupted her safe, protected world.
Donna tried a vague half-smile again as she saw her friend look at her. She was fighting hard not to crack and hoped the humiliating session would be over soon. As the session had progressed, she had come to understand just how thoroughly her former life was being destroyed. Everything that she had ever done, it seemed, was being placed in a different light by her latest escapades. Brigitte hadn’t said much but when Melinda had asked if she never had noticed anything strange, Brigitte had slowly mentioned a few nights out, shopping trips, times with Donna when she could remember that sex was mentioned. What were silly jokes that Donna had told were now being reinterpreted as omens of what was unfolding now.
On advice of Melinda -- in fact, obeying orders -- Donna had gagged herself before the session. Melinda didn’t want her to say anything, just to "be herself." The gag would keep her quiet and be a clear visible sign of her true slutty, kinky nature. "It gets the message right through to the other person. It is whorish, sexually depraved, especially as you applied it to yourself.” And Melinda had been so right.
Melinda had advised her to change into something kinky and naked, something that would go together with the big red ball gag and then come downstairs to the meeting.
During Donna's absence, Melinda had taken Brigitte, who had been waiting patiently in the living room, and showed her the room -- the sex room. Melinda had gotten a key from Ninon without Donna’s consent. She showed her all the dildoes, the whips, the lingerie that was still in the room. And after the room, Melinda had taken her diary and let Brigitte browse through it, all the while explaining that Donna was just a sick mind, sexually frustrated, sex addicted, and needed to be cured. Brigitte was convinced in no time. When Donna had come down to the living room, dressed in just the high heels and fishnet stockings, ball-gagged, Brigitte saw for herself that it was all true. Donna truly was sick.
For Donna, it had taken all her courage to walk downstairs to where her friend sat. When she saw the diary open on the table, Donna knew her life was ruined. When she heard Brigitte had seen her room, Donna knew there was no turning back anymore. She just had to be strong and play along. If Brigitte wouldn’t go along and failed to be convinced of Donna's "sick urges," Donna would have endangered everything, including her family, and Brigitte as well. As she was sitting on the couch, Donna felt it was slowly getting easier to do just that. If Donna didn’t fight and just went along, she had so much less to worry about.
And now Brigitte knows about the room, so what? Donna convinced herself. Sooner or later during therapy, it would have come out anyway. Now it is just out in the open from the beginning.
But Brigitte’s looks were disturbing her. Donna still had some pride left, although shattered more and more by every disgusted look. Brigitte wasn’t the kind of women who appreciated this. Sex never was something she talked about. It was something very private to her. And now with the way that Brigitte had looked at her, Donna knew she wasn’t into anything kinky at all. Worse, Brigitte despised it. But then again, clearly Brigitte did believe everything that she had just been told.
Ninon had emphasized that she had to cooperate fully. When she had returned to read the diary, Ninon had made lots of corrections, telling Donna to make it worse, to make it filthier. Donna knew that she was being punished for rebelling. She had complied but only after several more attempts was Ninon really satisfied. Donna had been horrified by what had been written down. It was totally opposite to her true feeling, and contrary to her real morals, her own personality.
However, Ninon had taken her time to tell Donna over and over again that she was in deep trouble. Hints about Vivian's fate and that it could happen to her family too made that message all the more clear.“You’ll need to act like the true slut you are during the session. No crying, no tears. I want you to behave like a whore, a tramp. If Melinda comes with a bad report, there will be grave consequences. Ms Brendan’s patience is gone. Think of Vivian and your family. Be wise, be strong, … be a slut,” Ninon had concluded.
Donna understood it all to well. And she reminded herself of those words whenever the humiliation came up again, and she was about to crack. "I’m protecting my family. I must sit through this. I must be the slut I can be. Convince Brigitte, convince Melissa," she hammered again and again in her mind until the feeling of dread subsided and she could concentrate on her false portrayal once again. And it worked. She could smile sluttishly, despite ball gag, at Brigitte whenever Donna looked at her. Donna could sit at ease, exposing her naked, oiled body, her breasts, her nipples and, as she deliberately switched legs, her pussy. She played the perfect pornstar as she had seen them do, exposing their bodies on the Internet.
"I have convinced her," Donna noticed from Brigitte's reaction. Relieved by this she sat, still stark naked in her own living room, pretending to listen intently to Melissa’s explanations. The looks, the big eyes, and of course the combination of her being naked and smiling, while a professional therapist was explaining she was a hopeless sex addict were too much for Brigitte to doubt.
“Okay," Melinda wrapped up. "We have come to the moment where the ball gag come off. Brigitte, you can now ask Donna whatever you want.” Donna unbuckled the gag, and with a smile laid the wet ball on the glass table. She looked at Brigitte still smiling, inviting her to ask anything. Brigitte was stunned and just sat silently for a while. Her eyes stared at the ball gag as the drool on it dripped on the glass table. It was obscene.
“Go ahead, ask her something.” Melissa prompted. “I know you must have a million questions.”
“Yes, Brigitte,” Donna said, responding to the subtle hint by Melissa. “Ask me anything, don’t be shy, I’m not.” Donna put on her most inviting smile. Oh how she looked the slut just now, Donna knew.
“H-How long…” Brigitte asked slowly.
“Well, difficult to say…,” Donna said promptly. “From when I was a teenager, I think. I’ve always had those wet dreams every now and then, where I did the most filthy things. With Robert and next the kids, it got suppressed but now the kids are grown and Robert is away so much, it all came back, and it kind of escalated.”
It was all lies but it was what was in the diary and Donna just followed that script. It was much easier than to have to think up new answers.
“And that’s why I have applied for this therapy,” she finished the answer, flashing a big smile and looking straight into Brigitte’s eyes. "She has to believe me, has to be convinced that I mean what I am saying."
“Why me?” Brigitte asked, more a complaint than a question.
This was a difficult one. Brigitte was not aware yet that Vivian was dead. Donna knew that if Brigitte knew about Vivian, she would have never participated in this therapy session. Instead, she would have ran off to the girls and told them what had happened to Vivian as any normal person would have done. So Donna had kept that hidden from her for now. Donna knew that Vivian's death would cause more problems once Brigitte found out. She would eventually put one and one together and figure out she had been second choice, that Donna had known of Vivian’s death and still had went on with the session. But Donna had had no choice in the matter. She had to ask Brigitte to participate, else the session wouldn’t go through and all hell would have broken loose. That was the last thing Donna wanted to happen. It was better to face an angry, disgusted Brigitte later. Donna could always hide behind her evil sexual desires, use them as an excuse for not telling Brigitte about Vivian.
“Well, you were the one that loved the most to flirt together with me when we were out," Donna answered. "So I figured that you were the closest to my inner feelings. As I flirt too now, and even more as you know by now.”
Reality was that Donna knew that she could best convince Brigitte of all her friends. She was the one everyone could easily fool. She wasn’t particularly dumb, just naïve, especially towards people that she trusted. And she trusted Donna. So why would Brigitte not believe it? A professional therapist was explaining the need for her sex therapy, and her friend Donna, who made a fool of herself with her outrageous outfit, was sitting right in front of her. And on top of that, there was sitting in front of her a whole book full of Donna's own thoughts explaining what she had done during the last months and very much in detail. A person like Brigitte would not question the evidence provided and when told to be silent about it, would not get a second opinion. Brigitte would have no alternative but to believe the lies.
The real problem was how long Brigitte would keep silent. She trusted every one of her friends and thus would talk about Donna with them sooner or later. But that too was a problem that Donna wanted to face later. Had to face later. For now, all Donna's effort was going into the short term, saving her family. And that meant pleasing Ms.Brendan, which in turn meant convincing Brigitte that Donna was a fucked-up slut, that she was seeking expert help, that this therapy was a professional cure and that she was doing a good thing in being Donna’s guardian.
“And second, also very important, you are the one that can keep a secret. I don’t want this to get out. Just imagine Robert knowing what I feel, what I want to do!” Donna said as she gave a "best friends" look at Brigitte. “My family would be ruined. And I need it to be kept a secret, especially while I’m being cured of it.” Donna had to try to keep her quiet for as long as possible.
“But the cure...,” Brigitte was distracted as Donna flashed her pussy again on purpose, “...the cure looks like it is worse than the disease.” Donna smiled sexily but she had to give credit to Brigitte. She had hit it right on the spot. The cure was worse, much worse, than the illness. But than again, Donna had no illness; it was all a scam anyway.
“Only during most of the treatment,” Melinda interrupted. “In the end, she has faced her demons, and comes out a newborn Donna. I told you this.”
Donna smiled a "thank you" smile at Melinda. "Bitch," Donna thought. "You know as well as I they're are not my demons but the ones you, Ms. Brendan, the whole bunch of you, send at me." But Donna simply looked at Brigitte for the next question, her smile still plastered on her face as if to confirm her therapist’s remarks.
“Is this really, and I mean really, what you want?” Brigitte asked. “It is so unbelievable, Donna…”
“Yes…yes, it is what I want. I’m tired of keeping it all hidden away. I can’t keep it hidden anymore. When I heard about this therapy, I knew it was made for me.” Donna said, basically reciting from her diary again.
“She is so strong to seek help,” Melinda said. “The first step -- knowing that you need help and asking for it -- is the most difficult one. Would you want your sexual depraved fantasies out in the open?" Melinda asked Brigitte directly. "I guess not,” she followed up, answering her own question.
Donna just kept smiling. She found comfort in inwardly cursing Melinda and everyone else. It kept her from breaking and the anger made her stronger, made her better able to act the slut. It was kind of funny how, through her anger, she felt superior over all of them, and especially over Brigitte. "I will convince her. She won’t have a single doubt in her mind when she leaves this house that I am a filthy, low-down, cheating slut."
“No…I wouldn’t want that,” Brigitte said. “But I don’t have those weird urges either.”
“True, you are not sick, my dear, she is,” Melinda said, nodding in Donna's direction. “But I agree with Donna that you will be a good guardian. Your skepticism towards the therapy is good. Now that we have convinced you, you will back us up against all those who would try to kill this therapy method.”
“I’m not convinced of the therapy yet,” Brigitte shot back, irritated. “I am convinced that Donna is sick. Depraved.”
“At least thank you for helping me so far,” Donna interrupted, sensing Brigitte was about to blow up and could ruin everything. “I need a friend by my side. So please help me get through this?”
Brigitte looked at Donna again. And again, she had that appalled look. But the anger left her face. It drifted away to be replaced by pity. “Oh alright,” she said. “I’ll go along with this sick game for now. But whenever I feel it is getting too much, I’m out of here!”
“The key to this therapy, to your attending, is only to confirm that Donna is doing this of her own free will," Melinda said warmly, making every effort to reassure Brigitte. “Not to participate in her degrading acts. Though you will be informed of what she does, or given hints, as you need to be told the whole picture, you will be her guardian, a second opinion for the ethics board."
"So no more questions?” Donna asked Brigitte, still smiling broadly. She knew she had to distract Brigitte from really understanding her role for now. Later she would drift into it and then hopefully she would not resign.
Brigitte thought for moment. “Your family… what, how will they look at this? At me?”
“My daughters have been told what is going on with me. They will basically keep themselves out of harm's way. I want them out of harm's way,” Donna explained. “As for Robert, I don’t want him to know until I’m cured. He’ll just have to be fooled every now and then. But when it comes to men, for us women, that’s no problem anyway.”
Brigitte thought about it for a while. “As for your involvement,” Donna added and looked for reassurance from Melissa. “We can keep you out of my families sight if you want. Though they, my daughters that is, know I need a guardian. So they’ll figure it out somehow anyway.”
“Keep me out of it as much as possible,” Brigitte agreed. “I couldn’t stand the embarrassment.”
“That’s settled then,” Melinda confirmed. “Though I personally like the guardian to be out in the open. Too much secrecy is not good. But for now we will do it like that.”
“That leaves the signing of the papers,” Melinda went on as she grabbed a pile of papers from her suitcase. “It is a lot, but once done we don’t have to do it anymore and we both are legally covered. So if Donna suddenly wants to sue you, she won’t be able to do so.”
“Good,” Brigitte said.
“And while we do this, I want you to entertain us, Donna. After all, you have signed all these papers already,” Melinda added. She turned to Brigitte, “I know this will not be to your liking, but I want her to show you the depths of Donna's depravity. You, as her trusted friend and guardian, must see her ugly desires.”
“What will she do? I don’t want to be part of any sex act!” Brigitte objected.
“Don’t worry, she’ll just give us a small show with her new friend Lenny,” Melinda said. Donna turned beat red. She hadn’t expected this. But she was trapped, she couldn’t refuse now. A discussion, or worse a fight, between she and her therapist would ruin everything now. Melinda meanwhile picked up the box with Lenny. She had taken it from the sex room where Donna had stored it. Melinda laid it on the glass table next to the ball gag. Melinda smiled at Donna, knowing she had to comply. Melinda then turned to Brigitte and sorted the papers in front of her, acting as if Donna didn’t matter. Brigitte soon found herself confronted with a pile of documents that she had to read and sign.
Donna on the other hand reluctantly opened the box with the big black dildo and lifted it out of the box. It was too huge for her, no matter in what hole she would try to use it. But she knew she had to put on a pornographic show so she decided to start by licking the dildo, and then try to shove it in her vagina. If she did that slowly, they would be finished before Melinda would come up with something new. Donna looked at the dildo and decide to stick it to the glass table. That way she didn’t had to lift it up to herself all the time. She knelt on the carpet and tried to stick it to the table. At first, it didn’t stick well but when she looked more closely at how it had to work, Donna saw she had to wet the naps first. So she spit and licked them until they were wet enough, and tried again to affix the huge dildo upright on the glass table. This time it stuck. When she looked up, she saw a smiling Melinda and, as usual, a disgusted Brigitte looking at her.
“Smart girl,” Melinda remarked, and she continued with Brigitte.
Ashamed and humiliated, Donna focused on the dildo in front of her. It was huge. Coal black, it really looked a lot like the real thing from the dark head, to the shaft where you could see the veins, to the texture of the black skin, the ball sac that was just like a real sac filled with testicles that lay flat on the table. Donna blocked out her surroundings and started to lick the head gently. She spit on it, coating it with saliva and smeared the slime all over the head and shaft. This alone was a gruesome task. The dildo might look like the real thing but it tasted like rubber, just like the ball gag. She hated that taste. Worse, it made her think on how it should really taste, and that brought her back to her black gang bang. The dicks she had tasted then. These were thoughts she didn’t want to have. Donna didn’t want to remember that ordeal but couldn't help herself, and she knew that was exactly what Ms. Brendan wanted.
"She’s fucking good in fucking with my mind," Donna thought as she licked the black dick. "She knows I will remember those fucked-up kids who raped me. She knows it repulses me, and she knows I still will need to think of some fantasy in order to fuck myself with this dildo." Donna desperately thought of any other black man that she knew and came up with Bill, her instructor. At least, it banned the thoughts of the gang bang for much of the time. And Bill was good looking, muscular, smart, tall, though he probably wasn’t as large as the dildo, as Lenny.
While Donna was in her own world, licking away at the dildo, moaning, sucking loudly, Brigitte and Melinda went through all the papers. Brigitte was constantly distracted by Donna's actions, but Melinda expertly drew her attention back to the paperwork. She just let Brigitte look long enough so that the message really sank in. Her friend Donna was a crazy, fucked-up slut. When they were half way through, they saw Donna had had enough of licking the dildo. Donna had gotten up, turned her oiled body so her back was towards the dildo and them, and next she lowered herself onto the dildo. She spread her pussy lips as far as she could with one hand, and was rubbing and spitting her clit and pussy with the other. The black dildo itself was shining from all the slime Donna had coated on it.
“Disgusting…,” Brigitte murmured as she tried to focus on the papers in front of her again.
“She is really sick, very sick,” Melinda agreed as she looked first at Donna’s ass lowering slowly onto Lenny, than focused on Brigitte. “But I wanted you to see this too. All of this. And it is just the beginning.”
Brigitte shook her head, still looking on the papers, trying to ban the noises Donna was making. “Let’s just get this over with, please?” Melinda smiled. She had numerous guardians before, and she knew they all were appalled in the beginning.
“Just for you to understand, to know…, “ She said as she laid down some new papers for Brigitte to read and sign, “… It will only get worse. In my experience, the guardian has it just as tough, and maybe even worse, than the sick person. These images, what she wrote down, they will haunt you if you are not careful.”
“I know they will. She is really asking a lot from me…”
“I know, but for the record, she is, and will be, very grateful to you.”
Brigitte sighed and murmured a “Whatever…” as she signed the next papers.
Donna meanwhile had the greatest difficulty getting her lips around the large head of the dildo. "Fuck, this thing is big," she thought as she spit more slime onto her fingers. Her vagina was already producing its juices but it still wasn’t enough. She had to stretch her lips with her fingers around the shaft, and really split wide with her legs, thrusting her ass backwards. Donna was so busy with the task at hand that she really didn’t mind anymore the obscene show she was giving Brigitte and Melinda. "How will I ever get this thing inside me," She wondered. "It’s impossible!" Donna grunted loudly from the pain as the head just wouldn’t go in. She started to hump on top of it and rubbed her vagina on the top of the dildo. It all made for some loud, gross sounds, but Donna was unaware of that. She had the difficult task of getting the head to go into her vagina, at least for a bit. And slowly, with loud protesting smacking noises, she got at least part of the tip into her vagina.
"Finally...,” she just sighed as she took a break, standing legs wide, a bit bent at the knees, her back bent forward a bit but not too much as she used her upper body weight to force the dildo inside her. Her ass was turned upwards so that her vagina was positioned correctly for penetration. She was sweating all over, partly from the effort, partly from the pain that she forced onto herself.
“She is so sick!” Brigitte whispered to Melinda as she watched Donna wage her fight with the black dildo stuck to the glass table, only a few inches away from them. The noise she was making made a normal conversation between Brigitte and Melinda almost impossible, especially for Brigitte who got distracted time and time again, as another loud smack was heard.
“She is isn’t she,” Melinda smiled expertly. “I must say she is on the most exhibitionist ones I’ve had up to now. Now let’s get on with the last batch of papers. These are for protecting you against the ethics board…” And Melinda and Brigitte went on with their work.
Donna had heard them whisper, and felt humiliated, but she was too worked up to really care. "That damn dildo is just too big," She thought hopelessly. "It just won’t fit. It will never fit." She rubbed her clit again and used some more of her spit before she stretched her lips again and started to rub against the dildo. As Donna tried harder and harder, the dildo made the glass plate shake more and more, which in turn disrupted Brigitte and Melinda, and their progress in getting the paperwork done.
“Can you please keep it down a bit?” Melinda asked when the glass plate lifted a bit and came back onto the table frame with a loud bang. “We can’t finish up here.”
“I’m sorry..” Donna said meekly; humiliation and shame washed over her. The interruption pulled Donna back to reality, and she realized that she actually was humping a dildo while two persons in the room just went about their business, well sort of. She was bending over with her hands on her knees, and was catching her breath.
"Oh, how awful!!!” just went through her mind as she appreciated how depraved she must look. But she resumed squatting on the dildo again. Donna wanted to have some result, have at least part of the large head inside her. "I’ve already made a fool of myself. Let me have at least some positive result from it." But to her frustration, the dildo wasn’t getting any smaller and all her different positions didn’t help. She tried spreading more, she even climbed on the table, but was told to get off by Melinda because she was disturbing them too much.
Her spit, her juices just weren’t enough and no matter how she pulled her outer lips, or even her inner lips, the damn head just kept on refusing to enter. Out of sheer desperation, Donna started to rock, hard and rough, on the head and before Melinda or Brigitte could stop her the dildo lifted the glass plate again, but this time higher, and when it came down, it broke into a thousand pieces with a loud bang. Brigitte and Melinda jumped back.
“Are you nuts!!” Brigitte shouted to Donna. The shock had made her explode. Donna herself wished the ground underneath her would open up and swallow her. She stood there naked, on her high heels, with her stockings sagged, sweating, breathing heavily from her efforts, not knowing how to react.
“You broke the glass with your disgusting masturbation act!!!” Brigitte continued. All her held back repulsion and anger came out. “You’re sick, you know, really sick!!!” Melinda knew Brigitte needed to be calmed down, and she walked up to her as Brigitte started to curse and swear all sorts of obscenities at Donna. “You sick bitch!! Disgraceful cunt!! Have you no shame, how can you act like this!!!”
“Calm down Brigitte.” Melinda said as she laid her hand around the shaking Brigitte, “Calm down. Let’s go to the kitchen and have something to drink, coffee or maybe some tea. We can finish up over there and you can go. Don’t worry, okay?” Melinda patted Brigitte on her shoulder and guided her to the kitchen.
“I’ve never seen such a sick thing. She is such a whore…,” Brigitte muttered as she was led to the kitchen.
“Yes, she’s a low-down whore, I know, ... now let's just go into the kitchen for now,” Melissa steered the young housewife away. She turned back to Donna as they turned the corner. “You just clean up, and organize the rest of my papers. We’re done.”
Donna nodded as she felt tears of humiliation stream down her face. She had just fucked up her own table, literally!! She looked at the mess and slowly started to clean. Donna picked up the dildo -- a piece of glass was still attached to it -- and laid it aside. Next she collected all the papers, cleaned and sorted them as much as she could.
When she was busy with cleaning the glass splinters, Melinda and Brigitte came out of the kitchen. Brigitte obviously had cooled down a bit, although she was still visibly shaken and appalled with Donna. They both looked down on Donna as she busily cleaned up the mess, dressed in her high heeled shoes, and fishnet stockings. She turned beat red when she saw them looking at her as she wiped up the biggest pieces.
“Here are the rest of the papers,” Melinda noticed and picked them up from the phone table. “This is your part. Be very careful with them, save them at a safe place, preferably a bank. As I mentioned, she might start to sue or whatever, or her family starts to sue, and then you want these, as they will protect you.” She gave a part of the pile to Brigitte, and next let her out, comforting her still, and reassuring her it was okay to be disgusted. Donna needed her, so she had to bite her tongue through it. It was humiliating for Donna to be talked about when she was present. They acted as if she was nuts, and couldn’t understand them. But she didn’t dare to complain, not in her current embarrassing state. No, she just went on cleaning the living room. The glass had shattered through the whole room. By the time Melinda returned without Brigitte, Donna was vacuuming the place thoroughly.
“I’ll be going too,” Melinda shouted over the noise. “You’ve done great!” Donna turned of the vacuum cleaner. “And I think Brigitte will be a good guardian, though she is a bit shaky now. Our next session will be next week Monday. I like to start the week with my clients as soon as possible, so we can decide what will be done that week. So Monday, same time, okay?”
“Okay,” Donna said meekly. She was an odd thing to look at right now, naked, high heels, stockings, and an ordinary vacuum cleaner in her hand.
“Alright, see you next week then, have a nice weekend, and a happy end of the year celebration!” Melinda said, and picked up her coat, leaving with all of her papers. The papers that condemned Donna to the awful degrading therapy.
"If this is how it is going to be all the time...," Donna sighed as she looked at the room while looking at Lenny, “I don’t think I can make it…” She turned on the vacuum cleaner and continued to clean the mess. The glass rattling as it was sucked up. Donna was still annoyed, recalling she didn’t get one inch of the dildo inside her. Sucking it had been difficult, but fucking it will be almost impossible. It will ruin my vagina….and Ms. Brendan wanted me to take it up the ass too…”