Exposure Therapy Chapter One - Part Two

Monica counted out the crisp notes and checked them twice. After a third count, she couldn’t delay going back into her office any longer. Wrenching open the small safe, she dropped the envelope inside and locked it back up.

By her estimate, there was a fifty percent chance he’d already left. An outcome she was hoping and betting on. While dealing with shaky clients was part of the job and referrals kept her business alive, Monica strictly didn’t take clients connected to her inner circle. Experience taught her to keep the personal and professional streams of her life separate as much as possible.

It was a shame she had to meet Ryan’s best friend in a moment of crisis. She couldn’t deny Colby was appealing. Dark hair, dark eyes but right now he needed her professional help. In another life, maybe they could have been something more. Monica pursed her lips and shook the thought from her mind. With a steely breath, she smoothed her hands down her suit jacket and strode back into her office.

Monica broke her golden rule for Ryan. She hoped she wouldn’t regret it.

Sitting on the white couch, Colby didn’t look up when Monica settled into the comfortable chair opposite him. All his attention was his clasped hands in a white-knuckle grip.

“Doctor,” Colby started as she opened her notebook. “Can you help?”

“Monica, please.” She clicked her pen. “My methods are a little…unconventional. Did Ryan tell you anything?”

With a shake of his head, Colby pulled out her business card. “Only this.”

Monica clicked her pen. “We don’t have time for the usual preparations I like. You need my help now. If you wait any longer you’ll end up spiralling again, correct?”

“I can control it.”

“You have no control. Woke up this morning with no control. Called Ryan with no control. Walked through my door with no control. Control is not your issue.” Monica crossed her legs, her skirt hem hiked up, revealing more of her leg. She caught the dart of his eyes and shut her notebook. “Would you say you use sex as a coping mechanism?”

Colby squirmed and met her gaze. “No.”

Ignoring the lie, Monica leaned forward and clicked her pen. “Why do you have sex?”

“Boredom,” he shrugged, his attention returning to his hands. “Something to do.”

“What about other activities? Hobbies?”

“Work. Gym.” Colby raised his eyes and blew out a frustrated breath. “Fuck.”

“A skewed work/life/fucking balance. We’ll work on it.” Monica leaned back and pinned him with an unwavering stare. “And are you any good? At fucking?”

Colby ran a hand down his face. “No complaints.”

“That you know of. For you, fucking is a hobby. A past-time. It’s familiar, comfortable and exciting, isn’t it?” she shrugged. “Especially with a new person. It’s like showing them your favourite things.”

As she spoke, Monica shifted in her seat and slowly let her heel dangle from her foot. The slight change caught his gaze. Every movement forced her skirt up a little higher. Revealing more of her legs in the sheer tights. With the pen tip, Monica teased the edge of her skirt. All his attention was focused on the entrancing pen swaying back and forth along the soft fabric.

It was clear Colby’s sexual prowess was tied up in his self-worth. If he got through today’s session, she’d start breaking that toxic chain. Crushing his ego was all she had to do. Slowly eroding everything away under her power. Simple. However, unlike most of her clients, Monica already knew some of Colby’s personal history.

“Mmm,” she murmured. “Are you paying attention?”

Wordless, Colby nodded. His gaze still transfixed on the dangle and whisper of soft fabric against her skin. A sharp click of her pen broke his concentration. Monica uncrossed her legs and tugged the fabric back into place. In a smooth movement, she sauntered to one of the smaller cabinets along the wall.

“There’s a few different things we can do. For you, I think taking a multi-pronged approach and testing what works will be helpful. With my help, you won’t be gaining control but peace back into your balance. One of these methods is Exposure Therapy.”

Colby frowned. “Having more sex isn’t going to cure me.”

“Not that kind of exposure.” From the cabinet Monica pulled out a metal device built with thick steel rods. “Do you know what this is?”

“A whisk?”

“Close, but no.” Monica held out the “not-a-whisk” to Colby. “It’s a cage. A chastity cage.”

He blinked at the innocent twist of metal, turning it over in his hands. “Torture?”

“Not quite with this particular type,” she said with a wistful sigh. “In my experience, Exposure Therapy drastically improves when paired with a chastity cage.”

Colby open his mouth and closed it again. Completely lost for words.

With a finger, she pointed to the discreet changing screen. “ Go over there, take off all your clothes and wrap a towel around your waist. There’s different cages and a sizing chart. Exposure Therapy has a mantra.” Monica lifted a brow. “Naked body. Naked mind.”

This decision was a critical moment in Colby’s treatment. He needed to make the active choice. A willing participant in whatever treatment she chose moving forward. There was time for him to drop the cage and walk out. They’d never meet again. Without her help, he’d spiral even further. Ignoring his demons and even more of himself in a haze of unsatisfying sex.

She noticed a small tremor in the hand gripping the chastity cage and waited. Without a word, Colby stood up, tapped the cage against his palm and strode towards the changing screen.