Recommendations of a New Science

Rising high among the expertly landscaped garden, whose bushes were cut into many different precise geometrical shapes and its gravel paths kept neat by frequent raking, was a mansion. A great crowning jewel of a massive estate belonging a particularly successful member of the gentry, his riches were vast and his administration and leadership incredible, but he bore one weakness in his being. One which threatened to unravel his personal life and professional efforts completely. That issue being his quickness to anger, something which only grew quicker as his outbursts became more numerous with time.

His title was that of lord, sir Harry Honderson, and he had recently taken the hand of a woman in marriage. She was now dame Hazel Honderson and she was as worried about her husband's frequent state of wrath as anyone else in his surrounding, if not more so. She felt unloved and disregarded by the man who seemed to flip a coin each time they started to get intimate, a coin which determined whether he would love her as he had done on their wedding night or if he would remain flaccid and rapidly find a place to pour out his anger.

Hazel was a clever woman, not a damsel who cried and begged for everything in life, but a problem solver and fixer, with a vast store of knowledge hidden behind her cranium. She didn't want to live the rest of her life in uncertainty and doubt, but she didn't want to abandon her husband either. The eventual solution she came to involved the recently developed science of psychoanalysis.

A letter was penned from Hazel's end, with the most graceful wording possible given the situation, to a professional in the new science and on the portion of the estate's wealth which was afforded to Hazel, a therapist turned up at the door of lord Honderson. It was a woman in professional dress, whose face hadn't been left alone by the specter of aging, but with the expression of dignity she bore, she had successfully cultivated a look of sophistication which was every bit as enticing as a face of a young woman.

"Good afternoon and how do you do? My name is Patricia and my presence was requested to free someone of their internal demons," the woman at the door told the younger Hazel who greeted the older woman. In truth, while Hazel had been married for a few months already, she still felt unused to the way of the upper classes to carry themselves and the fact that she held a high authority over the estate.

"Welcome, you must be the professional psychotherapist!" Hazel told the visiting Patricia. The lady of the house tried to open her mouth to tell of the troubles which had been materializing more frequently as of late, but she found that it was rather difficult and a brief pause became apparent as she gathered what words to use. "You see, my husband, god bless his soul, has been exhibiting some rather unpleasant outbursts as of late and I was hoping that one of your ilk would hold the secrets of a remedy."

"Is your husband in the house perchance?" Patricia asked the nervous lady, who shook her head back and forth in response. The professionally attired woman moved further into the house, moving past the woman who wanted to expound her grief. "Then, provided no big eared servants are present nearby, I would suggest we both make ourselves comfortable and have you spell out your consternation in as clear terms as possible."

"I... Well, most certainly," Hazel responded before following along in the footsteps of the older woman. Their path leading to a well embroidered sofa where the two dignified women sat down to begin a conversation, which needed to be made into an exchange of words of a necessarily crass nature.

"Then let me inform you of a few things. What you tell me will be strictly between you and me, the future conversation between me and your husband bearing the same seclusive nature. You should feel free to tell me anything without fear of who gets to hear it," Patricia started the meeting between customer and professional. The professional in question bearing her back as straight as possible, but at the same time trying to use her eyes to signal Hazel into making herself comfortable. An addendum to the therapist's statement soon came out of her lips, "Although seeing as it is a holy bond, I might just end my mission with a request out of you, based on both of your conversations and what I would deem as necessary to save that bond"

"Oh... Well, then umm, why don't I start to tell you about Harry?" Hazel stuttered out apprehensively, to which Patricia responded with a gentle nod. The married woman needed to pause for just a second before she could speak about what she herself had suggested. "So, he's just an amazing husband, he's rich, tall, and handsome. I don't know if I could ask of anything else in a husband really."

"I would certainly ask for an end to his outbursts. If I was in your place, that is," Patricia retorted calmly, her profession wasn't merely about making her clients think of puppies and rainbows, but about dealing with problems which stood before them and which needed to be dealt with. Bearing this in mind, Patricia tried to make Hazel open up. Making her suggestible to adopt the solutions which she would need to, if her issue was to be solved. "I bear no reservations in him being an amazing husband, but no-one, except for the lord above, is truly perfect. Would you kindly, try to find it inside of you to tell me about anything that detracts from his being completely flawless."

"Well, there's the outbursts sure, but we're going to solve that aren't we?" Hazel asked with a shaky and nervous voice. The sentence almost ending in a giggle to bring a lid to her being insecure about the possibilities of the world. Patricia didn't mind, knowing that to truly open up a person, one has to have a certain patience and a keen ear to sort out the failures in communication. "Other than that, well sometimes when we're... You know... Looking to create the love our marriage is built on... He... has an outburst when I want to indulge in that and I really do wish that would be the last place where that would happen."

"Oh well, that I'm certain of you not having to endure that after I'm done with him," Patricia told Hazel, a smile visible on her red lips. The therapist had good reason to smile, so early on into the meeting and they had already came across the most likely culprit in Harry's sporadic behavior. It wasn't a completely foregone conclusion for Patricia, she still wanted her conversation with the man himself before she could be completely certain, but as it seemed in the moment, she was almost already done with her work.

The rest of the little meeting went past without a hitch, with Patricia excellently maneuvering her client's emotional state to bring her to relief and joy. The whole affair left Hazel confident and trusting in the woman she had hired. She was sure that everything was going to work out, there was nothing in Hazel's mind which would lead her to believe that everything wasn't going to end up being peachy keen.

With one person spoken to, Patricia rapidly started to prepare herself to speak to the next person which this whole affair concerned, the other half of the troubles which afflicted the estate and, more importantly, the marriage which led it all.

After a brief respite, embellished by a lovely cup of tea, she got to finding sir Honderson. She had a plan worked out in her head concerning how to approach the whole conversation, she knew that plans of that nature often fell apart at first contact with reality and that she was going to be reliant on her trained instincts, but the exercise was still a healthy way to prepare the mind for her coming obligation.

It did take a little while, but eventually, Harry was found by the practicing psychotherapist. He was overseeing business far out in the farm and although he bore his reservations about Patricia's methods, he still accepted her offer to take a break from his work. One where the two of them could converse in the way that Hazel wished them to.

This conversation, between therapist and client, would be made in a place that was far less appropriate for therapy than it had been between Patricia and Hazel. Harry insisted on not leaving his overseeing duties to far away and thus forced the meeting to take place in a dark barn on great hay bales. Despite the less than ideal setting, Patricia wasted no time in trying to figure out the troubles that existed right inside the head of the lord she was sitting with.

"You do know that you can be quite frightening when you're wrathful?" Patricia asked some ways into the conversation, when she had ensured that Harry had been made as comfortable as possible. He answered her question with that he was quite aware, holding a twinge of shame in his voice. Patricia wasn't shocked by this turn of events. Most men, she had found, were quite insecure about their emotions not being theirs to fully control and rule. Men had their reasons to be insecure about that, as most of their surroundings assumed them to be stoic at most times and punished them harshly if they weren't.

"I try not to be, but sometimes I can feel something welling up inside of me, I always detest it so. It makes me feel so vulnerable and useless in a way that a man isn't supposed to be," Harry commented on his condition with great melancholy. It seemed to Patricia as if he was open enough for her to apply pressure in the way which would confirm her suspicions.

"Masculinity, I feel, is an important part of us all. Even us ladies need it, lest we be rendered too emotionally ruled to fulfill even the most basic of duties. Say, if you came to practice your masculinity more often do you think that you would better be able to control this welling you feel from time to time?" Patricia asked, trying, and succeeding, to keep her voice as matter-of-fact and neutral as possible. Yielding just a little pause in between Harry hearing her words and understanding what she was implying. His understanding being met with impeccable timing from Patricia, as she added to her question, "Do you think that performing your more base masculine duties whenever Hazel asks you would help to mitigate your sudden employments of anger?"

Harry furrowed his brows in response to Patricia's question, the activated muscles in his face changing and transforming his expression smoothly, until his emotional state was one of clear wrath and anger. It all was going as Patricia had suspected, with her hypothesis confirmed, she moved to defuse the situation.

"Sorry, I can be a little silly sometimes. My word choices can be poor and indicate the wrong things from time to time. What I really wanted to ask was whether Hazel should consider options for you to pour out your masculine energies? Somewhere where you can more often have the right to be angered?" Patricia adjusted her previous statement, moving her original meaning away from what had made Harry angry. The fact that he had adopted wrath as a response was enough for her to make the conclusion which she had suspected.

The rest of the conversation went past without much of any kind of issue. Both Patricia and Harry exchanging smiles in the end, with Harry not thinking much of what had been said or considered in the meeting between the two. He Immediately took to returning to his duties as an overseer of his farmhands. Patricia, however, left the session with a much different impression, she was completely and utterly sure of how she could proceed with mending the troubles which had befallen the estate as of late.

Hazel soon saw Patricia emerge in the distance, her strut indicative of someone who had achieved and solved something, with great haste the married woman tried to inquire about what had been found out from the therapist's side. No answers were received however, Patricia instead asking for the privacy to pen two short letters, one to be sent into town before she left and another which Hazel could open at a suitable time.

This answer did disappoint Hazel, she wanted to know what had been found out, but professional duties meant professional duties and if Patricia was duty bound to seal her lips shut, then so be it. Although it didn't all come to pass without Hazel trying to peek at the two letters that the therapist penned. Even with this complication though, Patricia ultimately managed to send the one letter away with the same horse and buggy which she was going to leave with once it returned.

"No, no, no, the words within the letter I had penned to you won't make much sense without the package I have sent for. Do be patient and when it all finally arrives, try to open both package and letter in secrecy," Patricia answered the incessant begging from Hazel's direction. Curiosity would have to be the enemy until the proper situation had presented itself.

It took an immense effort of will, but Hazel managed to withhold from reading the message penned to her, sitting through both the return of her husband and the return of the carriage which had departed previously. The package, which had been wrapped in paper to keep curious eyes at bay, was larger than Hazel had assumed at first hearing of it. She held the unwieldy package close to her as the therapist, who had assured her that everything would work out just fine, left in the horse drawn vehicle.

As soon as an opportunity became unveiled to Hazel, she rushed with both the secret letter and the suspenseful package to a place where she could be as recommended, private. She read the letter first, through and through, before she opened the package which had been delivered to her. Neither the contents inside of the box she had received, or the words on her paper, made much sense to her in isolation. Together though, while it still took just a few moments, she came to understand both inclusions.

With tentative, yet excited, steps. Hazel emerged from the private room where she had hidden from view as she memorized what had been written to her. The object which she had received was hidden neatly under her long and lady-like dress. It was unknown to anyone but the lady herself that she was wearing something so exotic, modern and naughty, but the straps which fastened the harness around her hips made sure that she didn't forget.

An uncertain smile adorned Hazel's lips as she went about the rest of her day, she could scarcely focus on anything but what the letter had recommended that she do come the hour of the night. Even looking at her handsome husband came to make her anxious and unsure, but excited and adventurous as well. To hide her ever smiling mouth she tried, and failed, to read a book in his presence. All that she really could do in the end, was rub her bare thighs against the object underneath her dress.

It seemed like an eternity later, that the pair of them made their way into the bedroom, the night was quickly descending on the world and sleep was approaching a clear priority for the pair. Anticipation was the word of the moment for the wife who was awaiting what the letter had instructed. Was the letter correct? Had Patricia really figured it all out? and would the instructions given really work as intended? There, ultimately, was only one way to find out.

"Dearest, would you please consider lying on our bed? On your stomach? I really want to rub your back," Hazel asked of her husband. Harry, unaware of this being part of a script handed to his wife, complied without even the slightest bit of hesitancy.

Hazel straddled her husband's back, each of her legs being on either side of her husband, while her crotch was raised quite a bit above, as she didn't want him to feel the object she was wearing just yet. It was a most unladylike position, Hazel, as most other ladies of the time, had learned to ride sidesaddle to avoid their dresses being stretched and torn. It had been with some forethought that she had chosen a dress that didn't matter to her for this moment.

"Would you mind, dear, if your torso was exposed as I did this?" Hazel asked with only slight hesitancy in her voice. In truth she really did want his back to be exposed to her. She imagined his skin showing before her eyes, as she could feel his tensing and relaxing muscles under her fingers, without the layer of fabric separating them.

Harry let out a brief snicker, as he pushed his hands underneath himself to unbutton his aristocratic garb, after which he invitingly raised his arms for Hazel to pull his clothes straight off of his body. The sight when she did, brought a wide smile to her face. His skin was right in front of her, rough and masculine, his muscles yielding just the perfect amount from her touch before she could feel them pressing back.

Hazel almost let herself disappear into the moment, her love and joy overtaking her conscious thought, but with her memories set on the letter she had received, she pushed through and kept her thoughts in her head about what to do next. Still, it took her quite a while before she dared to try to remove Harry's trousers.

Eventually Hazel found the time however, and her hands moved to the sides of Harry's hips, where she could find the buttons for his pants. She slowly undid these, which Harry responded to with a rapid chuckle and an equally rapid removal of his trousers. Since Hazel had moved to do it herself, Harry had thought that it brought her some sort of pleasure to see him naked underneath her. Something which he was none to refuse, she was his wife after all.

This encouragement, as Hazel interpreted it, made her remove her own dress with a quick pull over her head. After so much anticipation, the moment was rapidly approaching and Hazel took a deep breath as she finally laid eyes on the object that she would be acting with again. Around her lower half was harnessed a synthetic phallus. It was made out of a malleable rubber, with some sort of glossy finish which rendered it far slippier than what was typical of rubber objects.

The woman in waiting tried to keep the object and her intent hidden for as long as possible as she gathered herself. She breathed in and out time and time again, preparing herself for what she was about to do, the small adventure she would force her marriage on. In the end however, she trusted Patricia's advice and the note she had left. "It's as clear as day to me, your husband is suffering from his body not being able to commit to his masculine urges. The seed builds up in his body and erupts as a kind of anger. What I have brought you will allow for an alternative method of extraction."

Hazel took in one deep breath before she grabbed hold of her husband's hips, her own were cocked back and hovering above his thighs, leading to the phallus she wielded being just a hair away from where it was supposed to enter according to the psychotherapist's recommendation. In a single move later however, she had pushed her way into Harry's rear, much to his surprise, which was followed by a pleasure generated moan.

Hazel had indeed taken the entire letter to heart and memorized it down to the last syllable, she knew how to proceed and how to have the greatest chance at success for what she was trying to achieve. Over and over again, she pulled out and pushed in, trying to push against the anterior wall in her husband's rectum to hit that one little bump that was said to bring him pleasure like nothing else. The one thing she hadn't counted on, was for the process to be so very pleasurable for her, the base of the rubber shaft pressing against her private parts, making it feel as if she was humping against something.

The pair continued their little activity, their position changing slightly as time went on, making the entire process more enjoyable for the both of them. Harry's hips raised and his knees climbed apart from each other and Hazel's stance became wider still to ensure a more stable and controlled rocking back and forth. The phallus moving between them, pistoning in and out of the husband's rear as the wife enjoyed the pressure that the process applied to her clitoris.

Hazel kept her rhythm steady and moaned with the pleasure her action generated. She had never imagined her doing the man's job in bed until today, but in the moment it felt so right to her. Harry had been given an even less generous amount of time to get used to the idea of being on the receiving end of lovemaking, but as the shaft his wife wielded pressed into him, he couldn't think of anything that felt more right.

It was a joyus occasion for the pair, their love felt as if it was reinvigorated to beyond what it had been on their wedding night, but even the best things in life must come to an end. As the letter had informed and spelled out, this exercise was for Harry to spill his seed in an alternative manner and soon enough, the moment came for him to do just that and it was done with a final moan of pleasure. Hazel wanted to continue, but knew that it was time for her to quit no matter how she felt about the situation. She soon pulled her tool out of Harry and grabbed him tightly around the chest from behind.

"I love you..." were the words that escaped Hazel's lips as she fell into the big spoon's position with her arms tightly embracing Harry. She couldn't help herself from saying just that and she further couldn't help herself from repeating herself, "I love you so much!"