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“Let’s try something together, Luka.”
Kat’s words hung in the air. Luka jeans bunched uselessly at his ankles, his red sating panties still concealed his greatest embarrassment. He held Kat’s panties in both hands, the sensation of the delicate fabric excited him.
Kat sat poised in her ergonomic chair, holding her pen like a wand. “Let’s try an exercise in control. I want to see if…”
*PING*
The phone’s chime came from Luka’s phone that was pocketed in his jeans on the floor. It startled Luka and seemed to annoy Kat.
She says nothing at first. Then, very quietly: “Is there something more important than our session, Luka?”
Luka blinked, trying to process. “I’m sorry—no—I didn’t—”
She raised a single finger. It is a signal to shut up. “Bring it here,” she said, voice pitched low. “Hand it over. Now!”
Luka’s hand shook as he retrieves the phone from his jeans, careful not to trip himself. He stepped forward and held it out like a sacrificial offering.
Kat did not take it at once. She let his arm hang in the space between them until Luka finally looked her in the eyes to witness her displeasure. Then, and only then, did she reach out. Her nails grazing the back of his hand, and Luka felt the jolt travel all the way to his crotch.
She inspected the phone before speaking, “Good girl. What’s the passcode?”
Luka could barely get the words out. “Five-one-five-five-four,” he responded, eyes down. He could feel the heat in his face, but Kat’s annoyance had evaporated, replaced by something more clinical.
She thumbed the code in, unlocking Luka’s private life. "Let’s see what we have here," she said, tone clinical as she taps and swipes. Kat looked up abruptly. "Who is 'Soph'?"
Luka stammered, caught off guard. “Sophia? She’s Anna’s best friend from college.”
Kat’s lips did something peculiar and ambiguous, not quite a smile. “She’s bold. Listen.” Kat swiped to the new message and began to read with deliberate slow mockery: “‘Hey Lulu! Don’t make weekend plans. Anna’s bachelorette is girls only, but we need a sissy who takes special requests. You’ll be perfect. I’ll pick you up Friday to go shopping. Xoxo Soph.’”
There is a beat. Luka feels his stomach invert.
"That’s… Sophia’s always—" His voice withers as Kat shoots him a sharp look.
She reads it again, slower, as if savoring every word. "A sissy who takes special requests. You’ll be perfect." She lowers the phone and regards him as if he’s become more interesting in the last sixty seconds. "And what, precisely, do you think she means by that?"
Luka tries to control his breathing. His face feels like it’s been glazed in fire. "It’s probably nothing," he manages. "Sophia just—"
Kat cuts him off. "I’m just going to assume that Anna is starting to share your video with her friends - and that the narrative is already out of your hands,” she said, matter-of-fact, as if confirming a laboratory result. “This is good for you Luka. You see, in my experience, when women like Sophia make requests, she has a plan. She wants a show. She is expecting you to perform."
Luka was trembling again, unable to look at Kat. His eyes focused on the black panties still in his hands.
Kat drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, then said, very softly, “Put them in your mouth.”
Luka jerked in surprise. “The… your panties?”
Kat’s eyes flickered; her patience was a fragile thing. “Yes, Luka. The panties. My panties. Stuff them into your mouth. Do it now.”
Luka hesitated, but his hands acted before his mind could mount a defense. Wetness pooled at the corner of his mouth as he forced them past his lips. His face spasmed in blissful humiliation.
Kat focused on her notes waiting for her patient to finish taking his medicine before she spoke, "You are going to attend Anna’s party," she says, matter-of-fact. "You are going to let them do whatever they want. You will not try to run away, or sabotage it. You will be present, you will be obedient, you will perform, and I will expect you to journal everything that happens."
Kat waited for his reaction, finally Luka nodded.
Kat smiled. "Very good," she said. "That’s the Luka I want to see."
Kat picked up Luka’s phone and unlocked it. Activating the camera and with surgical precision and, without warning, she snapped a photo: Luka, standing in his red panties with his pants around his ankles, Kat’s black panties peaking between his lips, his shameful bulge evidence of a complete loss of dignity.
*click*
She taps out a quick message. Luka watches his therapist’s nails click the glass like punctuation marks. “You’ll thank me,” Kat says, not even looking up. Then, to herself: “One day.”
Kat holds the phone so Luka can see the screen as she hits Send. His picture, his face slack with submission. A single, razor-sharp sentence: “Sophia, Lulu was so excited to receive your invite. He’ll be a perfect addition to the party and can’t wait to go shopping - Kat.”
Continue with the next installment of the story.