Annie's Inhibition Removal Therapy

Inhibition removal therapy. Not officially recognised, not covered by my insurance. Quite possibly very dodgy. Dodgy as fuck, Lindsay would say, if she hadn't been the one to recommend it.

It was just after my divorce. "It could help you become more comfortable with yourself," she said. "Listen, Annie, humans are supposed to have sex, and they're supposed to enjoy it. I'm not shaming you, and if you're happy then of course you shouldn't try it. But if not, what do you have to lose?"

The truth was that I wasn't happy. I knew that my inhibitions weren't natural, and even if they weren't the main reason for the divorce, they'd played a part. I'd learned enough about myself from the experience to own up to that.

Not that Luke was into anything particularly adventurous or kinky, but my upbringing had left me with some deep-seated hangups. Oral, for instance? No thanks. The idea of someone... well, just the thought made me clench up. And giving it? My jaws would lock together at the suggestion.

For six years of marriage, our sex life had been lights out, under the covers with generously applied lube, and Luke doing all the work.

It wasn't that I disliked sex, the act of sex. Somewhere deep inside me I could feel the pleasure, and I might even have climaxed once. I think. It was the thought of it that filled me with revulsion, sometimes even panic.

So here I was, ready to move forward with my life and fix what was wrong with me. I was too young to stay single forever, and I didn't want to go into a new relationship with the same flaw that had been the root of so many problems with Luke.

The building where Dr Miles had her offices was smart and businesslike. A wide lobby with a security desk, where a professional guard glanced at my chest before hurriedly raising his eyes to my face. I knew what he saw: Dr Miles had given me strict instructions not to wear a bra. My breasts shifted slightly under the soft material of my sweater with every step I took. I wasn't sure why I was braless, but presumably she knew best.

I gave my name to the guard, and he buzzed me through the low barrier to the lifts. I had to be on the seventh floor, about half way up the building.

A tall youngish man in a modest suit was waiting when I stepped out of the lift. Goodlooking, but not overtly so. Handsome, regular features, a slightly bronzed skin. Brown curls cut short that matched dark eyes. Full lips that spread into a courteous smile.

"Ms Everson?" At my nod he turned and gestured to the end of the corridor. "This way, if you would."

"You're not Dr Miles." I'd spoken to the therapist on the phone, and looked up her bio online.

"I'm Felix, her assistant."

Well, if Dr Miles could afford to have offices here, and pay an assistant, she must be doing something right. I began to feel a bit better about coming.

She was waiting for us beyond the last door. Short, with dark hair caught up in a clip on the back of her head. There was a hint of Asia in the dark eyes, the rosebud mouth, the smooth skin. She was a handful of years older than my own mid-thirties, I knew from her bio, but her face didn't show it.

She was dressed conservatively in a narrow skirt and a high-buttoned jacket, both in a checkered grey. Her shoes were sensible, though: soft leather with a low heel. As if she cared more about comfort than predefined ideas of style.

We shook hands -- hers was small and cool -- and she led me to a comfortable-looking sofa by the window. Light streamed in, all the way from the ceiling to perhaps a foot and a half from the floor. The window sill was decorated with a series of small bronzes: men and women engaged in sexual acts.

Dr Miles must have noticed me looking. "Sorry about the figures. Some colleagues bought them as a gift when I set up my practice. They were supposed to be a joke, but I think they're appropriate, and tasteful enough."

"No, they're--" I didn't know what they were. Not offensive. Not upsetting. The notion of other people having sex didn't give me anxiety. "They're fine." Still, I turned my gaze away quickly. Nerves, perhaps.

She smiled, then gestured for me to sit. I did, just in time for Felix to step up with a jug that held water and slices of orange and lemon. He had a glass tumbler in the other hand, which he filled from the jug, then placed them both on the table by the sofa, within easy reach for me.

Dr Miles sat in a winged chair opposite me and took a folder that Felix handed her. I hadn't even noticed him move. At a nod from Dr Miles he left us alone, crossing to a frosted glass door at the far side of the office and disappearing behind it.

"Now Ms Everson," Dr Miles began, "I'm glad you're here. It takes courage to attempt this treatment."

I shrugged. "I don't think I have much to lose."

"Some people fear what they might be asked to face. Or losing something that's become part of who they identify as. But from your information," she flipped open the folder, which held a stack of printed papers and a writing pad, "I see that you acknowledge a problem and are willing to see if it can be helped."

I smiled, not sure what to say. We'd had an intake on the phone the week before, and I'd filled out reams of paperwork. Legal stuff, of course, and a lot of background information.

Dr Miles discussed a few of my answers. About my marriage and previous relationships.

"I answered that already," I said. "On the form."

"I know. That was for me. This is for you." She softened the words with a smile on her red lips and continued with the questions. Whether I'd had any sexual activity since. Whether I ever masturbated. Whether I ever had any sexual dreams.

"Yes." I swallowed. The tension was already forming inside. "The dreams. They -- they feel more like nightmares."

"But you say here that you enjoy the sensations."

I nodded. "That seems to make it worse."

"Hmm." She pursed her lips. "Ms Everson, may I call you Annie?" When I nodded, she continued. "Annie, I want you to try and separate yourself from your body. See it as a different person. Give it a different name."

I closed my eyes and tried to picture it. It didn't seem too difficult. I often felt disassociated from my body anyway. "Should I choose the name?"

"Please do."

"Anna." It came out instantly. Close enough to Annie, but so very different. I opened my eyes. "Anna will do."

"Very well. Anna." She made a note in the pad. "Now, try and separate your physical experiences from yourself. They're Anna's experiences, not yours. Not Annie's. Can you do that?"

I closed my eyes again. "I can try. I'm not sure..."

"Try running a finger over the back of your hand. Just a light touch, back and forth a few times."

After a moment's hesitation I did as she told me. Right forefinger over the back of my left hand.

"And now tell yourself that it's not you feeling it. It's Anna."

"Which one? In my finger or in my hand?"

"Your hand is best, but either will do. Is it working?"

It was hard at first. The hand was mine, after all. It had been attached to me all my life. Now Dr Miles was telling me to forget all that, to imagine it was someone else's hand.

But after a while, I managed it. Only for an instant, but it was there. The belief that it wasn't my hand, that I was only borrowing it. That the sensations were coming to me at a remove, through a body I was occupying but that wasn't my own.

She must have seem it on my face. "Good. Don't overdo it. You can open your eyes again now."

There was a knot of triumph in my stomach as I reached for the glass and took a sip of water. So soon after pretending it wasn't my body, I had a bit of difficulty coordinating my hand and mouth, and nearly spilled some.

Dr Miles smiled at my awkward apology and held out a box of tissues to wipe my chin. "I'm sorry. That's not an unusual reaction. I should have warned you." There was sympathy in her voice.

"No, that's alright." I balled the tissue up and dropped it onto the table, then had another go at drinking. This time it went better. "I suppose it just proves we're on the right track."

"I'm glad you see it that way." She made another note, then sat forward. "Shall we try it again?"

We did, three more times. Each time it was easier, each time I could hold on longer to the notion that I was just an observer inside Anna's body.

After the fourth time -- she made me take a sip of my water again -- she looked at me with serious eyes. "Annie, we're making great progress. I'd like to take it a step further. Try something more intimate. Are you ready?"

A tiny knot of anxiety clenched inside my abdomen, but I pushed it down. Progress. Strike the iron while it's hot. I nodded.

"Good. This time, when you feel yourself separating from Anna, I want you to move your finger from your hand and lightly touch your nipple. Can you do that?"

I refused to let the knot inside me grow. Instead, I unclenched my jaw, closed my eyes, and touched my finger to the back of my hand.

Almost instantly I managed to separate myself from the sensation. This wasn't me being touched, it was Anna. Anna didn't mind it. She could enjoy it, even. Feeling the presence of the finger before it touched her skin, feeling the warmth. Feeling the tiny hairs on her hand rise up to meet the touch.

Before I could stop myself I raised my hand to my chest. I didn't need to see to know where my nipple was. No, I reminded myself: Anna's nipple.

A light touch. Dr Miles's instructions about not wearing a bra made sense now. I could feel the material of my sweater beneath my finger: a thin cashmere. Beneath it was Anna's nipple.

Anna's nipple.

I pressed down and across the distance I felt Anna experience my touch. A gentle poke of a fingertip.

"Can you flick your nipple, or stroke it? Would Anna like that?"

I tried gently stroking the cashmere. It was soft and fuzzy under my fingertip. Through the material I felt the outline of the nipple, rising up from the mound that it topped.

Another stroke, then a flick. A jolt shot through me -- no, through Anna, but into me. An electric shock, seeming to jump from my nipple into the pit of my stomach.

My reaction was instinctive, and immediate. My jaw clenched. My legs squeezed together. My head sank between my shoulders. I might have whimpered softly.

"Shh." It was Dr Miles, beside me. A light touch on my forearm. "Shh."

I opened my eyes. She was crouched low, not too close. In her free hand she held my water glass, filled once again. A slice of orange floated in it, and a few fragments of pulp.

I forced myself to unclench. Relax. Breathe. Unclench. Relax. Breathe. It took a few moments before I could give a shaky smile and take the glass from her. "Thank you."

She patted my arm as she rose, then returned to her chair. "I think we're done for today. How do you feel?"

There was a slight tremble in my hand as I drank. When the glass was empty, I put it on the table, by the balled-up tissue. "Good, mostly. I think. Until just now... But before, I think it worked. With Anna."

"It will get easier with practice. If you'd like, I suggest we see each other again next week. In the meantime, you continue with this exercise. Just as far and as much as you feel comfortable with." She smiled. It was almost motherly. "Stretch yourself, but don't stress yourself."

*

A week later I was back. Braless as before, ignoring the security guard's quick glance as before, following Felix's long strides to Dr Miles's office as before. This time I'd also been instructed to wear a loose dress. I could imagine why, but I was determined not to think about it.

Lindsay had asked how my session had gone. I was vague, but positive. Dr Miles seemed to know what she was doing. A bit unconventional, but I liked her. Yes, I was going back for a second session.

Today Dr Miles was in a loose-fitting skirt like my own, with soft grey pleats that matched the darker grey of her jacket and the silky cream of her blouse. She gestured me to the couch and seated herself in her winged chair. We exchanged a few words as Felix glided around and then disappeared behind the frosted glass door.

"How did the exercises go?"

I'd been expecting the question. "Quite well, I think. I managed to hold on to Anna for much longer. Even with... even with the more advanced bit." It was easier to think about it in abstract terms.

"That's wonderful. Shall we try it a few times, just to get you started?"

She took me through the touching-Anna's-hand exercise three times. I was finding it quite easy now to separate the feeling of being touched from myself. It wasn't my body -- I didn't have a body, perhaps. Anna the Body was distinct from Annie the Mind.

At the third try, Dr Miles said softly, "Touch Anna's nipple."

If I'd let myself think ahead, I'd have expected this. I reached up from Anna's hand until my fingertip was level with Anna's nipple, then I gave it a quick flick. I'd discovered that the shortest possible touch was the best way to start.

Dr Miles didn't say anything, so I did it again. Anna's nipples were sensitive -- I'd tried them both earlier in the week -- and the second flick met a stiffer bud. There were nerve endings there that were coming awake, sending needles of sensation deeper into Anna.

"Breathe." It was Dr Miles, her voice little more than a breath itself. "Breathe. Can you do it again?"

I forced my shoulders to unclench before the tenseness set in, and inhaled slowly, deeply. As I expelled the air, I flicked at Anna's nipple again. This time it was so hard that it didn't move under my touch.

"Keep breathing. Do you want to take this further?"

I nodded. As long as I kept taking even breaths I could stop myself from clenching up.

"Run your finger over Anna's nipple. Small circles. If you feel comfortable enough, you can add a bit of pressure. Perhaps even pinch it. But don't force yourself. If you think Anna might be slipping away, just stop."

I shook my head. My lips were starting to press together tightly, I realised, so I relaxed them. I hadn't spoken since the exercise began.

Anna responded to my finger. It was the electric feeling of arousal. I recognised it, but with Anna between my mind and the sensations I was able to consider it objectively.

It was pleasant. Warming, somehow, from the inside out. Exciting too, like a whole world of possibilities stood before me, leading to some unknown destination.

I'd felt these feelings before, but always through a cloud of panic and worry. That unknown destination was daunting, but the road leading there -- any of the roads -- were what scared me most.

But now it wasn't me making the journey. It was Anna, and she wasn't afraid. I was just along for the ride, a passenger in her body, a dispassionate observer.

And so I observed. Rubbing my finger around Anna's nipple provoked a shiver that ran across the skin of her stomach. She enjoyed it. I pinched the nipple, and now the shiver was on her spine, dancing its way down, down, all the way down to-- I didn't want to know. To stop it, I pinched again, and this time I pulled as well.

The shiver stopped. Instead, pain stabbed through me. Me, not Anna. She was gone, perhaps fled from the pain and shock, perhaps just slipped through my tenuous grasp.

I bit on my lip to hold in a moan. It managed to escape though, and almost turned into a sob.

"Annie." It was Dr Miles, warm and gentle, close by but not too close. "It's alright, Annie."

I sipped my water as I tried to calm down and collect my thoughts. Dr Miles returned to her chair and busied herself with her notes, or at least pretended to, until I put my glass back on the side table.

"Sorry." I didn't know why I was apologising, but it was a way to start the conversation again.

"Don't apologise. You've done nothing wrong." She gave me that encouraging smile of hers. "Do you feel ready to talk about it?"

I gave a small nod. "It went well. I could feel Anna's pleasure. It was hers, not mine, and I could think about it without getting stressed."

"But...?"

"When I pulled my nipple, or Anna's nipple... Actually no, it was before that. When I pinched her nipple, the sensations went beyond enjoyable. It was about to turn me on." I swallowed. "Sexually. I was about to feel it..." I gestured at my stomach, then down. "Down there."

"And you wanted to stop it." She said it like a statement, not a question.

"Yes. I think I panicked, and all I could think of was to pull, pull hard, like on a brake or something. Like that would stop it. The pain would cut off the pleasure."

"Did it?"

My cheeks suddenly felt hot. I wanted to lower my gaze, wanted to hide my face. Wanted to never speak to this woman again, or to anyone.

"Annie?"

"No." I forced it out, and the rest of the words followed more easily. "I felt it down... there. And everywhere. I felt the pain too, but it was like the pain belonged. It was a part of it. Of what was enjoyable." I knew I was blushing, could feel the pulse in my cheeks, my neck.

"Of course."

It took a moment, but the matter of fact tone of her voice made me look up.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. Arousal is full of complicated emotions and experiences." That comforting smile again. "Nobody's truly not conflicted. Not in anything, really, and in sexual arousal less than most things."

I tried to think of something to say, but before any words came to me she was already speaking again.

"Sexual arousal is about physical sensations. Emotional too, but those only reinforce the physical. Pain... well, I suppose you could compare it to salt. For some people, in some situations, it enhances the flavours of what's already going on."

I felt a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. "Salt."

"I like food, so the analogy is one that works for me. You might find another one more to your liking."

"No, I understand what you mean. I like food too."

"Any cuisine in particular?"

She led me off on a discussion about dinners we'd had, at home and on holiday. I realised that she was distracting me from what had happened, getting my mind to reset, but she did it skilfully and I didn't resent it. It helped to clear the tension out of my body.

After perhaps twenty minutes she steered the conversation back to my treatment. Before I knew it I had my dress hiked up to above my knees and I was running my fingertips -- three on each hand -- up the insides of my thighs.

I slipped into Anna. It was quite easy now that I knew the trick. It just took a shift in mindset, like one of those optical illusions that show two distinct pictures, depending what you focus on.

Anna enjoyed it. I could feel her letting the sensations spread outwards along her skin, sink deeper and deeper into the flesh of her thighs, climb slowly higher. At Dr Miles's advice I didn't try too much, didn't push it. Just nurtured that warm feeling in Anna's thighs.

"Do you want to try it with your nails?"

It was Dr Miles's voice, soft as ever. Always suggesting, never ordering. But she made me want to try anyway.

So I angled my fingers inward until the nails touched Anna's skin. Lightly at first, but I understood where Dr Miles wanted me to take it. So I pressed harder, preparing Anna for a new sensation -- no, I reminded myself, for the same sensation, but enhanced.

And enhanced it was. As my nails dug into Anna's flesh, the pleasure she'd already been feeling surged up her thighs and into her abdomen. It was like when I'd pinched and pulled her nipple, but not as sudden. Anna and I were prepared for it, and even though it was stronger it didn't break the wall between us. It filled Anna with fire, and I felt the second-hand glow.

"That's enough."

Dr Miles's voice brought me out of the moment. For once her tone was firm. Anna seemed to give a silent scream, of frustration and yearning.

"Annie, look at me."

Reluctantly I opened my eyes. After a moment I stopped running my nails up the insides of my thighs. There were long red marks on the pale skin. "What?" I heard the sulkiness in the word.

"How do you feel now?"

"Anna's angry."

"I can imagine. But I was asking about you. How do you feel?"

"I don't know." I was still sulky. "Just... you know, the same as before."

"Disappointed?"

The word stabbed into me before she'd finished speaking it. I was disappointed, and I knew it. I just didn't want to admit it.

Luckily I didn't have to say anything. Dr Miles went on, "Shall we try this again?"

I nodded. Tried not to look too eager. Tried to tell myself it was just curiosity, an academic interest in Anna's feelings and experiences. Tried not to lick my lips as I began to run my fingers up the insides of her thighs.

By now I could almost predict what it would be like. The physical sensations that Anna seemed to enjoy so much, my own delight in observing her. A desire to observe more, to find out more about what she liked. Perhaps discover why she liked it.

This time I barely did any teasing before digging my nails in. It didn't seem to matter. The arousal was already there, ready to be fanned into flames. Waiting to burn again, send its heat into Anna.

Dr Miles didn't interrupt. I'm not sure what I'd have done if she had. Anna wasn't going to be denied now. She needed the heat. Seemed to devour it, thrive on it. Yearned for more. Reached inside herself to drag the arousal closer, closer to her abdomen, to build a knot of fire there that would spread through her entire body.

It was a surprise when my fingers brushed the material of my knickers. Plain white cotton, like all my undies. Functional, like all my undies. Like the body parts they covered.

Reverting to my fingertips instead of my nails, I stroked the skin where it met the material. A few hairs stuck out. Anna shivered in delight at my touch, and my fingers sent pleasant sensations of their own up my arms.

But Anna wanted more. It was as if there were giant arrows pointing where my fingers had to go. Or a magnet drawing them there. Or Anna willing them on, under the material and into the short curls of my pubes.

It was as if I was feeling them for the first time. I'd had them for decades, of course, but they were just another part of my body. One to ignore, preferably, beyond the necessity of hygiene and tidiness.

Now they were exciting. The final stop before something unfamiliar. A destination that I knew, but that was strange nonetheless.

It wasn't particularly convenient, I thought, trying to tease Anna with my fingers sliding up the leg holes of my undies. The edge of the fabric cut into my fingers.

Instead, with the fingers of my left hand resuming their teasing of Anna's skin, I withdrew my other hand and forced it under the waistband. The thought flitted across my mind that Dr Miles was watching, but it seemed a very remote concern. Not anywhere near as immediate as Anna's need for my fingers, or my desire to observe her experience.

The curly hairs on Anna's mound felt oddly compressed. Packed down from being inside my undies. I let my fingers glide through them, pausing now and then to scratch with my nails at the skin beneath.

Her mound rose up in a soft curve. At its apex, there was a tangle of hair where I knew her folds met. There was something there that I'd never explored -- never let anyone explore, even Luke. But it was responding now, responding to the pressure of my fingers, urging them on, pleading with me to press harder, press, rub until the sparks flew and set the world ablaze, ignited the dynamite that Anna had found inside herself.

And just like that I surrendered. I gave over my entire self to her. There was no separation anymore between my mind and her body, because there was no me. There was only Anna, and Anna wanted what had been denied her for so long.

She was in control of the fingers that pressed down. She felt the softness of her folds beneath the curls, slid her fingers further along, then drew them back up, slick now with something that was like the lube Luke used, but different. Thicker, sexier, more arousing, more real.

The hairs parted before her fingers, revealing the bud where her folds met. It was swollen, present like it had never been present before. Responsive to her touch, eager like she was, hungry like she was.

She rubbed it, up and down, up and down, and the spark caught and began to make its way to the dynamite. Remembering something from before, she brought her other hand up to her breast, felt the hardness of her nipple poking through her sweater. Caught it between forefinger and thumb. Pinched. Pulled. Twisted. Pulled some more.

The pleasure that had been building inside her suddenly exploded. Beyond imagining, it soared, it glowed, it beat against the thin wall that contained it, and she fed it with more pleasure, more pain, and it burst free, consuming her as it went, spreading through her body and her limbs in bursts that set her jerking like a puppet, a plaything for this sensation that filled her to the point where it fought to escape through her eyes, her mouth, her skin, and she let it, Anna let it burn away all the fears and worries and anxieties that had stood in her way for half a lifetime, and they fled before the fire, even as it lessened, quietened, calmed, and gently settled down, gently, gently.

Anna was quiet. Gone. It took a moment for me to realise that through the blackness. It was just me, low on the sofa, one hand resting on my tummy, the other unmoving in my undies.

Everything came back suddenly. I was still in Dr Miles's office. I'd just--

Hastily I sat up, opening my eyes and whipping my hand clear. There was a stinging in the corners of my eyes, and the faint tickle of tears on my cheeks. My mouth was open, my throat raw, as if I'd been gasping.

Dr Miles was still sitting in the winged chair opposite me. There was a flush on her neck, just visible above her blouse. She had her legs crossed, and her foot swung back and forth in rapid motions. Her rosebud lips shone, and there was the faintest hint of a tremble in her voice when she spoke. "That seemed to go well."

I shut my mouth, thinking of something to say. The fingers of my right hand were sticky, and I gave them a quick wipe on the cotton of my knickers before I pulled down my skirt. "I suppose." It wasn't quite a mumble, but it wasn't as sullen as before.

"This was a remarkable breakthrough. I won't ask you about it now. I'm sure you need time to process it." Her voice was steady again, warm but professional. "I think we should schedule another session for next week."

Five minutes later I was standing in the corridor. I'd expected Felix to walk me to the lift, but Dr Miles called him back. Her tone was firm and commanding. For an instant I wondered what she'd say to him, thought about loitering at the closed door to listen. But a ping from the elevator warned me that I wasn't alone.

Downstairs, I walkde across the lobby on legs that still weren't entirely steady. It felt as if eyes were on me everywhere: the security guard, the courier standing at the desk, the woman in a smart business outfit outside, gazing at her phone and idly flicking at a cigarette.

I kept my chin up. Inside I still felt mortified by what had happened, but I was proud too. Like Dr Miles had said, it felt like a breakthrough. I wondered how I was going to tell Lindsay.

*

I was back a week later. Wear sexy underwear, Dr Miles had instructed, and I'd let Lindsay take me shopping.

"You know what this means, don't you?" she asked afterwards over a glass of wine. "Lingerie isn't for you. It's for other people."

The familiar tightness grasped at my stomach for an instant, but I fought it down. "It won't be me. It will be Anna."

I wondered whether the security guard could see the lacy pattern of my bra, a deep red under the cream of my blouse, as I reported to his desk. His eyes glanced for a moment, but I couldn't tell either way. But then again, the lingerie probably wasn't meant for him.

As usual, Felix met me at the lift and led me to Dr Miles's office. While he poured my water I turned my gaze to the bronzes. I'd barely given them a glance before, after seeing what they were, but now I looked at them with fresh interest.

They were in an abstract style, the lines smoothed and the faces simplified representations. One was a seated woman, head thrown back and leaning on one hand while the other was between her legs. A second showed someone standing, back arched, while another person had their head buried in their crotch. A third depicted a couple, a woman with someone behind her, one hand on her breast and the other seeming to glide down across her stomach.

There was a vitality about them, a rawness in the clean lines and simple poses. I felt Anna stir inside me.

I'd done my exercises at home, but I hadn't let her take over like she had during my last session. There'd been no frantic rubbing, no explosive climax. A bit of teasing only.

Anna had been just below the surface these last few days. Sometimes she pleaded with me to be released, but I kept her under control. I told myself it was because I wanted to show her who was in charge. Really, though, I was afraid.

Afraid of experiencing that same intensity as I had in Dr Miles's office a week ago. Afraid of not having anyone there to bring me back.

Afraid too that it wouldn't be as intense.

I'd also had some strong doubts about being here today. Even separating Anna from myself inside Dr Miles's office, I still had to go there. I still had to walk in and surrender my body.

Probably I'd have chickened out and cancelled this appointment if Anna hadn't been so near the surface all week. I'd stood before the mirror and admired her in the new lingerie. It suited her: the colour and cut accentuated her skin and form. Objectively, I could see how she'd be considered desirable.

For a moment I had a vision of her pouting her lips and running her hands over her body. Imitating the exercises we'd done: the soft touch on her hand, the flick of her nipple through the material of her bra. Dragging her nails up the insides of her thighs, and sliding her fingers under the lace.

I pictured her facing me through the mirror, one hand against the wall while the other rubbed away between her legs. Her eyes were locked on mine, her hair hung loose before her face, and as her climax swept through her she squeezed her eyes shut and breathed one word. "Annie."

I held the vision of her in my mind now. Concentrating helped me to keep my anxieties under control. This body wasn't me, it was Anna, and Anna didn't share my inhibitions. Anna might want to try anything.

Felix filled my glass, then stood by as Dr Miles entered from the side office and sat. He handed her the notepad -- I hadn't noticed it in his hands -- and turned to leave.

Before he could go, she placed a hand on his forearm. "Stay. Take a chair."

My heart froze in my chest. Was this why I was wearing the lingerie? For Felix?

He gave a small nod, smiled shyly at me, then took a stool and sat next to Dr Miles's winged chair. There was some pink in his bronze cheeks that wasn't usually there, and he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands.

"Felix will be here as someone for Anna to practise on." Dr Miles smiled at both of us. "Unless either of you objects. Annie?"

Yes! I wanted to scream. I wasn't prepared for this. I'd exposed myself to Dr Miles the week before, but that was in the spur of the moment. And besides, she was a therapist, a medical professional. And a woman like me.

But I didn't speak. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and imagined Anna. Imagined her in just her lingerie, standing before Felix while he gaped up at her. Anna in control, the boy in the palm of her hand.

I forced myself to nod before I could change my mind. Felix must have agreed as well, because I heard Dr Miles's voice. "Very well then. Annie, do you want to run through the exercises? Or are you comfortable bringing out Anna straight away?"

Without opening my eyes I brought my fingertip close to my hand. Felt the curious sensation of proximity before the actual touch. Separated myself from Anna, took a step back from her body. Retreated into a passive role, taking my inhibitions and anxieties with me.

Anna opened her eyes and rose from the couch. Dr Miles looked as if she was about to speak, but Anna ignored her. She stepped up to where Felix sat, still looking uncomfortable, and leaned forward. Rested her hands on his knees and looked into his eyes. Their faces were separated by inches.

Without speaking, Anna took his hands and placed them on her hips. Then she brought her own to the buttons of her blouse and began to undo them one by one, ever so slowly, ever so deliberately, still looking into Felix's eyes.

His tongue darted out to lick at his lips. She wiggled her eyebrows and smiled. "Do you like what you see?"

His eyes tore free from hers. She could see the almost physical effort that it required. Then he was staring down the front of her blouse, which was hanging open almost to her waist. The new bra -- lacy, with a subtle pattern that created shades in the deep red that Lindsay had chosen -- seemed to present her breasts to him like it was her own hands. Here, it seemed to say, do you like them?

She undid the last buttons and pulled her arms out of the sleeves. For an instant she thought about dancing, doing a striptease, but this wasn't about what the boy wanted. It was about Anna doing what she wanted, getting what she wanted. Staying in control.

Dropping the blouse to the floor, she again took Felix's hands and moved them from her hips to the small of her back, to the top of the zip of her dress. "Can you do this?" she whispered.

He brought his eyes back up to her face and nodded once. She felt his fingers fumbling at the zip, pulling it down in uneven jerks. Then she returned his hands to her waist and straightened up.

The skirt slipped from her hips with only the slightest prompting from her hands. She was left standing before Felix, naked except for her high-heeled sandals and the lingerie. His eyes were still on her face, staring out from cheeks that could have rivalled the lace for redness.

She reached out and took his cheeks between her hands. They glowed under her touch. "Look," she breathed, and angled his head down.

He went willingly, and she could almost feel his eyes stroking her body. They lingered on the plump flesh of her chest, above the swell of her breasts. They seemed to dive into the canyon that was her cleavage. They searched the lace of her bra, spotting her nipples pressing through the material.

She remembered how Annie had flicked her nipple, pinched it, pulled it. She remembered the pain and the fierce pleasure that had been wakened. She yearned to feel it again.

But not just yet. She pointed the boy's face further down, across her stomach with its soft feminine roundness, and below, where the red lace stretched over her mound and disappeared between her thighs.

"This is my body," she said. Not loudly, but not a whisper either.

He nodded, head still between her hands. She took them away and straightened her back.

"Make me naked." In the distant dungeons of her mind, Annie whimpered, then went quiet.

He reached up, sought for her bra clasp, then rose to his feet. He was taller than she was, by a head. With his arms around her, fingers fumbling, she inhaled the scent of his chest through his shirt.

It took only a moment, then she felt the sudden relief in her breasts as the clasp came undone and the lace let go of her. The material stuck to her skin for a moment, but came away easily enough as Felix pulled the straps from her shoulders. His fingers brushed her skin, like Annie's finger had done before. A shiver tumbled down her spine.

She let him slide the bra from her arms, then took it from him. Turning, she looked at Dr Miles. "Hold on to this for me, would you?" Dropping the bra on the open notepad -- not a single note written -- she gave the therapist a bold smile before turning back to Felix.

"The rest too." She pointed at her knickers with both hands.

He nodded in two short bursts. His hands hadn't left her shoulders, but now, as he sat again, they slid across her skin until they reached her hips and slowed down. He had a light touch, almost as light as Annie's, but there was a delicious heat in his fingers.

There came a slight pressure as his thumbs forced themselves between her flesh and the lace of her knickers. Then she felt it dragging down, sticking to her skin, fighting the contours of her body, and her undies were around her knees, and she was bare before him, level with his face.

She placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped out of her knickers, one foot at a time. She could tell he was wondering what to do with them, but she pointed at his hand, then gestured to Dr Miles. "Give them to her."

She didn't bother to look. Dr Miles hadn't moved, hadn't spoken. Barely seemed to breathe. Felix held out the red knickers, somewhat awkwardly, somewhat embarrassed, and after a moment's hesitation Dr Miles took them.

Anna was still looking at Felix. She placed her palm on his cheek and turned his face forward, then slipped it under his chin to raise his gaze. "Do you see me?"

His eyes met hers between her breasts. He nodded.

"Do you like it?"

He nodded again. His lips turned up in a small smile.

"Do you want to taste it?" Inside her she felt Annie cringe again. Annie had never allowed this, had never made herself vulnerable like this. Had never spread her legs for someone's lips and tongue.

But Anna had no inhibitions. Anna wanted to know what it was like. Anna took Felix's head between her hands and drew it against her body.

There was warmth, from his hot breath. There was pressure as her mound met his mouth. There was excitement as she spread her legs and felt his hands come up to grasp her arse cheeks. There was a slight scraping sound to the side as Dr Miles shifted her foot.

Then Felix's tongue was between her folds, and flicking at her clit, and the world became a series of electric shocks that shivered through her body and blazed behind her eyes. Her hands clutched at his head, her fingers wound in his short curly hair, her knees trembled as she bucked against him.

Annie's whimpers of fear mingled with Anna's moans of pleasure and were drowned out. The pleasure drowned out everything. Vaguely she was aware that her head was thrown back, that her hair was tickling her back, that her right knee was hurting from being at an awkward angle.

Felix's fingers dug into her arse, a sweet pain that amplified the pleasure. "Yes," she heard herself whisper, "yes!"

The boy's tongue redoubled its onslaught, and Anna felt herself coming perilously close to the ultimate surrender. Something held her back, though. Perhaps it was an echo of Annie's inhibitions, perhaps it was a desire to stay in control.

Whatever it was, she pulled Felix's face away from her body. "Stop."

He looked up at her, eyes large and questioning like a puppy's. His lips and chin glistened, from her arousal and his saliva. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but Anna pressed a finger to his lips. "What I want you to do is fuck me from behind. Can you do that?"

Forcing down Annie's wails of embarrassment at her words, she turned to where Dr Miles sat motionless in the winged chair. The red silk bra and knickers were bunched in her fist. The writing pad was still blank.

Placing her hands on the armrests of the therapist's chair, feeling her breasts swing beneath her, Anna leaned forward and looked over her shoulder. Felix was fumbling with his trousers, getting his cock tangled up in his shorts.

Anna turned back to look at Dr Miles. The flush on her neck and chest was a dark red. Arousal, Anna guessed, arousal at what she was witnessing.

Before Annie could stop her, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against the other woman's. Why not, if there were no inhibitions? Why not force her tongue into her therapist's mouth, why not relish the stifled moan of another woman?

She drew away, eyes fixed on Dr Miles's face, noting how the woman's lips glistened and were still parted from their kiss. Behind her Felix seemed to have released his cock, because she felt it sliding along her slick folds.

She could feel Annie shrinking deep inside, fighting a losing battle of protest. She didn't care. It was about control, and Anna could do anything as long as she was in control. For too long, she'd been denied by other people's rules. Now she knew that her rules were the only ones that mattered, when it came to her body and her pleasure.

Even so, she couldn't help biting her lip as Felix's head found her entrance. Never before had a cock managed to enter her without a generous application of lube. Anxiety had robbed her of all desire and made it impossible to produce enough arousal of her own.

But Felix didn't have any difficulties. She felt herself stretch, fighting him, accommodating him, welcoming him. She pushed back against him, then rocked forward again, helping him to sink deeper and deeper inside her. His swollen head excited the nerve endings that sent flashes of pleasure stabbing through her again and again.

A sudden noise drew her attention. A clatter, from Dr Miles's pen and notepad falling to the office floor. The woman looked startled, then leaned sideways and reached down. Perhaps more out of habit than from actually wanting to write.

Anna stopped her, caught her hand. Brought it to her mouth and sucked on the fingertips. Sucked them, and licked them, never letting go of the woman's gaze. "Pinch my nipples," she whispered. "Pull them. Let me feel the pain."

After a moment's hesitation Dr Miles reached out, groping for an instant before finding Anna's nipples and pinching.

A jolt of cold pain clashed with the heat inside Anna's body, and vanished all too soon. "Again," she breathed, hearing the thickness in her voice. "Harder." And she was rewarded by more pain, more delicious, tantalising, arousing pain.

She let her body rock back and forth on her sandals, wave after wave of pleasure beating against the shores of her mind as Felix's cock sank into her and Dr Miles's fingers tormented her. The therapist hadn't spoken a word, was playing her part in silence, but the boy was grunting and gasping.

She wondered whether the pleasure was enough to send her over the edge. She didn't think so. Maybe with practice it would, but not now.

And besides, she wanted to be in control. Slipping one hand between her legs, she found her clit, her pleasure button, the centre of this new world that had opened up for her. It was already slick with her arousal, but she ran her fingers through her folds even so. Felix gave a whimper when she brushed against his shaft, and she filed the knowledge away for another time.

For now, though, the only pleasure that mattered was her own. She returned her fingers to her clit, rubbing two of them over it, pressing down, making regular circles.

Her body was on fire. The sensations from Felix's cock, from Dr Miles's fingers and from her own hand all melted together in a furnace that churned inside her, bubbles of pleasure rising up and exploding, building higher and higher, relentlessly, and although she tried to keep it back she willed it on, let it consume her world, until she was no longer aware of the thrusting cock or the pinching fingers or even her own hand, and all she knew was a white ecstasy that was the universe, and still it built, and burned, one giant bubble expanding throughout her, and then it burst and she wailed with release, wailed with joy, wailed with sudden emptiness, but Felix gave a choked moan and his cock was expanding inside her and a new bubble arose and exploded, and it ate away everything that she'd ever felt, washed away all the fire, all the urgency, all the pressure, chased away Anna and all her bravado, until all that was left was a soreness in my throat and in my nipples, and the feeling of Felix's cock slithering out of me and leaving a wet trail on the inside of my leg.

Dr Miles's fingers were still on my breasts, but stroking them now, in gentle, soothing motions. She lifted one hand briefly in a shooing motion, and behind me I heard Felix's zip, then he left us without a word.

I pushed myself up, shaking in my sandals. From exertion, from the experience, from embarrassment at my behaviour. Dr Miles rose with me, moving her hands from my breasts to my arms. Still stroking, but when I wanted to turn she held me still.

"Annie." Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat and began again. "Annie, that was remarkable. Your progress in such short time -- well, it's beyond anything I've ever seen."

I nodded. I didn't know what to feel. Pride at what I'd accomplished? Relief that I'd found a way around my inhibitions? Shame at how I'd behaved? I remembered kissing her. That wasn't how a patient was supposed to behave around their therapist.

She was still talking. "I don't think you need any further treatment. You have the tools, and you've demonstrated that you know how to apply them."

This time the emotion that welled up was clear. Disappointment. I wasn't sure why, though. I should have been relieved, perhaps, that there wouldn't be any repeats of today's embarrassing performance.

I found myself nodding again, not knowing what to say. She was right, of course. Paying for another session would be a waste of my money and her time -- no matter how wild it had been, no matter that Dr Miles had let herself be caught up in the moment. Perhaps because of that.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out my red lace lingerie. I hadn't even noticed that she'd stuffed it there. My brain was still in a haze, still trying to work out that I was naked and needed to dress myself.

Dr Miles held out my bra first. Before giving me the knickers, though, she suddenly raised them to her face and inhaled deeply. Her eyes stayed on mine until she handed them over. "I can't see you again as your therapist," she said, "but perhaps you'd like to see me again as a friend."

"A friend?" My throat was still a little raw from Anna's moaning. "You mean..." My eyes dropped to the red lacy knickers caught between our hands.

"I'd like that." She let go. "You're a remarkable woman, Annie. Perhaps you could visit me at home tonight."

"With or without Anna?" The words slipped out before I knew my brain had formed them.

She leaned forward until her lips brushed against mine. "I think you ought to bring her, just to be on the safe side."