Chapter 2

I took the moments of solitude as a chance to reflect on the wildness and craziness that had resulted from the previous night’s annual bacchanalia. I had essentially been reverse gang-banged and roofied by a group of both actual and wannabe lovers. This included my own wife, Erin, from whom I had been estranged (though that hadn’t stopped us from fucking a bit), my girlfriend Stacey, Stacey’s sister Lacey (all of eighteen to Stacey’s nineteen, exactly a year apart in age), my own, much younger half-sister Anastasia (twenty-eight years to my forty), Stacey’s cute, gay friend Roger Lawson, her other friends Annie, Tristan, and Melanie, her apparently very submissive Canadian friend Sandy Lothian (who had set the precedent of becoming my personal playthings), and my own divorce lawyer, Chloe Ramirez, who had broken her code of legal and professional ethics to bed me.

That wasn’t even counting Dr. Miriam Curry, my wife’s apparent lesbian lover and former counselor, who was gay, but had somehow stomached being intimate with me once in the name of breeding. I wasn’t going to raise the issue of when and how and all that with Dr. Curry, anyway, partly because I might need some therapy myself, and also because she was gay and any sex with her was thus going to have be on her terms, not mine, as a result of her sexual orientation. If Dr. Curry wanted to sleep with me and have me knock her up, she would have to tell me first, though I wouldn’t kick her out of bed, lesbian or not. She had a definitely exotic kind of beauty, foreign and ethnic, though I wasn’t sure how, and I got the distinct impression that she had partly encouraged Erin to reconcile with me at least somewhat with the idea of borrowing my dick now and then (or more to the point, my seed).

As if speaking of the shrink could make her appear (not that I would equate shrinks with Satan, of course), Dr. Miriam Curry, licensed counselor and therapist (though apparently, NOT a psychiatrist with any medical training) made her presence known to me in the shower. She was careful to plead with her face, rather than simply barging in, so I nodded and let her join me under the jets. After all, she was a safe choice for letting my cock recover, right? I wasn’t sure why she would want to shower with a guy, but, hey, I would let her explain that herself.

“So, you’re probably wondering why I wanted this time with you, while you’re naked and so am I? Well, first of all, nudity and even bathing together don’t have to be inherently sexual. This is proof of that, though obviously you’re attracted to me. And I confess, I think that you’re a handsome and well-preserved man for a forty-year old. I still don’t want to have sex with you, but that’s just because you have a dick and balls, among other things. If I were even slightly bi, I’d jump your bones in a hurry, I assure you.

“I’m already putty in the hands of your lovely wife, who does make me want to serve her. Which brings me to my next point. Okay, don’t get all bent out of shape, please. That deal that your wife and those others have with you ... I want it with her. I want to be her sexual plaything. I want to submit, sexually and otherwise, to your wife. The reason that I ask this is that, while I was ‘grandfathered’ into your deal, as you put it, my every nerve ending craves a bit more, and sorry if this sounds greedy, but I’m going to go for it. Maybe that’s me taking advantage of your good nature. I don’t know.

“Sorry if this sounds wrong, but I don’t really even care. Not when it comes to finding the love of my life. To paraphrase your words, you have a whole fucking harem. All I want is Erin. I want to be fucked, dominated, controlled, owned, and taken by her, to be her little slut.

“Please don’t worry. I won’t try to take her all for myself. I know that she’s bi and that she is your wife and loves you dearly. Trust me, I know more than most how much Erin needs you. She also needs me, though, and frankly, I need her. I need her to do more than just fuck me, that’s the point. I want her to own me. To dominate me. To possess me. To control me. I want to belong to Erin, even as the others and she belong to you. Is that possible? Is it acceptable?

“I asked Erin, and she bluntly told me to ask you, said that it was fine with her, but that you have final say over anything like that. Besides, you know how much Erin tries to control that bossy side of her, and for you, she’s glad to submit, but she still has it. She still has that part of her that wants to dominate someone. Who better than me? She could take all that out on me and thus be able to be sweet and submissive to you as she wishes to be, as you wish her to be.

“By the way, my birth name isn’t Miriam Curry. I was born Maria Yelena Kazarian, in Yerevan, Armenia. I’m thirty-two years of age, and yes, my biological clock is ticking a bit. I still belong to the Armenian Church, and yes, that’s very hard to do as a lesbian. Like all branches of the Abrahamic tree, it’s tough on LGBT folks who want to be their true selves while still practicing their faith. I badly need to get pregnant, which is another advantage of being Erin’s slave.

“You see, if she orders me to do things, it’s on her, not on me. I don’t have to enjoy them for their own sake. I can draw sexual pleasure from obeying her. So, if she orders me to have sexual intercourse with you, I’ll do it, gladly, not because I want to sleep with you, but because I want to obey my mistress.

“It also reduces my feelings of guilt for lesbian sex, if those things are done to me, if you will. That might be a trick on my subconscious, but it works. My conscience tends to ease a bit whenever I just submit and accept things. Anyway, that’s the deal. You agree, I submit to Erin, and then I have sexual relations with you only on her terms. I don’t think that will give her too leverage, of course, given that she’s already agreed to submit sexually to you, and you already have a harem, anyway, right?” Miriam explained to me at length.

“Okay, if that’s all. Sure. I do want to schedule some sessions with you at times. And yes, I know that if you sleep with me as my therapist, it could get your license revoked, so I wouldn’t tell a soul, alright? I just need to get some things off my chest, plus maybe a little marriage counseling won’t hurt, now that I know that you’re not secretly working to break us up or turn me into her sissy or whatever. I’m trusting you to be somewhat impartial if you can be, despite sleeping with my wife. Is that possible?” I asked her bluntly and she nodded.

“Of course. Erin aside, as a general rule, I try to separate my feelings as much as I can, short of severing things like empathy and compassion, mind you, from the process. I try to be professional, and except in her case, I have succeeded. Trust me, you’re in very good hands with me. Thank you for the vote of confidence. It’s not every man who would ask for therapy from his wife’s lesbian love slave,” Miriam winked at me playfully, “Sorry, bad habit, I flirt with men even though I don’t find them attractive. Hell, I think that I even flirt with dogs, and I’m certainly not going to commit bestiality. I just plain flirt. It’s my nature to do so. I even flirt with my priest, which has the bonus of keeping him unsure if I’m really gay or not.”