STUART'S PSYCHOLOGIST

"Take them down, Stuart...like the shameful little boy that you are!" Stuart couldn't believe Dr. Townsend was talking this way. And right in front of Moira, too.

She looked horrified at Stuart's therapist, a muscular silver haired, pinstriped John Forsythe look-alike--yes, he looked very much like Forsythe's "Blake Carrington" character on Dynasty.

 

Dr. Townsend had always intimidated Stuart a bit, from the first time he and Moira had gone for therapy at Dr. Townsend's comfortable,Grecian Scroll Wood Wall tiled office.

 

 "Topham Townsend, Mr. Ambrosio, good to meet you." Dr. Townsend's handshake had been firm, and his tone respectful,but Stuart had never gotten the impression that the doctor had seen him as an equal. Now, it was so clear.

 

Oh, it was mortifying! Dr. Townsend was now taking off his jacket, and now his broad leather belt. "I'm not going to ask again, Stuart" Dr. Townsend said impatiently.

 

 "I told you that you needed some serious consequences to break your disgusting masturbation habit. That's what you're paying a therapist for isn't it? Take down your britches and bend over my desk! You're getting a whipping!"

 

Dr. Townsend turned to Moira, reverting to his polished manner. "I'm sorry, Miss Poynings. Truly, I am, to expose you to this unpleasant scene. If you'd prefer, you can go into my waiting room, while Stuart receives his punishment. But I told both of you last week that Stuart needs more than talk-therapy to break him of self-abuse."

 

Stuart gasped as Dr. Townsend turned to him again. "I'm waiting, sir! Are you going to take those pants down, or must I take them down myself?"

 

Stuart looked at Moira, wondering if he should grab her hand and pull her out of the office. But  her face was more curious than horrified.

 

Stuart noted that Dr. Townsend's eyes were narrowing, and, his face burning, he found himself unsnapping his three button charcoal suit trousers, and pulling them down, along with his Royal Silk boxer shorts, bunched in his hands.

Moira's jaw dropped as she saw the beginnings of an erection like she'd never witnessed on her fiancee in the eighteen months she'd known him.

 

"That's right, Stuart, now come over here." Dr. Townsend tapped the distressingly thick leather belt in his hand as Stuart shuffled over to the desk, his pants and undies bunched around his ankles. He gave Dr. Townsend one more beseeching look before bending over the desk.

 

Moira Poynings watched in combined horror and amazement as her normally quite arrogant fiancee's white buttocks shone in the darkened office.

 

How had it come to this? Stuart certainly had a problem, all right--she'd gotten him to give up cheating during their dates, and had almost eradicated his pornography addiction, but he never seemed to have any energy for her. "Sorry babe" night after night...his penis flaccid.

 

And Moira was a beautiful girl! She'd finally discovered the semen stained Kleenexes around when they'd begun living together.

 

What kind of a guy would rather jerk off than make love? Was he deranged? A pervert? Stuart had tried Twelve Step Sexaholics Anonymous meetings, and they'd gone to some touchy-feely therapists, who had encouraged him to love himself in a different way...after all, there are always childhood issues!

 

"What you must realize, Stuart, is that self-abuse is a filthy, self-indulgent habit, and if you cannot stop childish behavior, you must be treated like a child."

WHACK! Moira watched numbly as Dr. Townsend's leather belt slashed across Stuart's alabaster cheeks. Stuart's hands were clutching the edge of the desk, and his teeth were gritted as he bent, almost as if he was used to this sort of thing happening to him from time to time.

WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Moira understood that Stuart had been raised rather strictly, and perhaps discipline was the only thing he could understand, but what a strange form of psychotherapy.

WHACK! Dr. Townsend's arm was quite energetic, as  the strap continued to rain across Stuart's now reddening buttocks.

"Stuart, you'll remember this throughout the week until our next appointment, and hopefully, not touch yourself again." Dr. Townsend's right arm came down rather savageley on the tender spot just under Stuart's buttocks, and the young man began weeping silently.

Moira was somewhat nauseated as he drooled snot all over the doctor's handsome marble paperweight.

Whack! Suddenly Stuart began blubbering. "P-please no-no more, Dr. Tuh-townsend. P-please." Stuart's buttocks were now a revolting mass of welts, slashes and red blotches, and the poor man was weeping profusely.

Dr. Townsend seemingly ignored Stuart and continued the flogging. "N-no more, please, oh please!" Stuart let go of the desk he was bending over and began pounding it with his fists. Moira's stomach was turning.

What the hell was wrong with him? Stuart was an athletic young man, and could have easily broken away from the doctor, shit, they could be filing charges against Townsend at a lawyer's office in this same building, but instead Stu was behaving like a five year old with no options.

Look at him, biting his lip and oh, the boogers hanging out of his nose as if he were a three year old. Was this what she would marry?

Finally, Dr. Townsend threw the belt down and grabbed Stuart by the hair, dragging him off the table roughly and turning his tear stained face to Moira.

"Are you not ashamed, young man? This honest girl is to bequeath her life to a weak-willed, onanistic paraphile, too selfish with his own desires! You should be humiliated!"

As Stuart's body came up from the desk, he stumbled over his ankle clogged pants, and might have fallen had Dr. Townsend's grip on his scalp not been so muscular. Moira numbly recalled seeing the U.S. Marines on Townsend's CV.

Now Stuart was standing up in the grasp of Dr. Townsend, shuffling about in his pants, and his penis distressingly rigid.  Moira gasped, wondering if her handsome fiancee was some sort of a faggot.

Suddenly, Dr. Townsend let go of Stuart's hair and Stuart fell down on the carpet, weeping. "Get dressed, you make me ill. I'll see you here next week, and you'd better not have touched yourself improperly. As a matter of fact, I don't want you having relations with Miss Poynings either--just give your genitals a break, understand?"

Townsend gave Moira a quick smile. "I'm sorry, Moira, but it's for Stuart's own good. I hope you don't object."

Moira actually had never felt less attracted to Stuart in her life, so she was somewhat relieved at Townsend's order. But would Stuart tell him to go to hell?

"Yes sir, I understand" said Stuart, his voice trembling, as his pants were pulled up. He blew his nose. "Thank you and I'll see you next week, sir. Come, Moira."

The girl's stomach curdled as she and her now shamed fella left the psychologist's office.

STUART’S PSYCHOLOGIST PART TWO

"Please--please don't tell him, Moira." Stuart said as they got off the elevator, walking down the hall of the 14th floor of the Peabody Medical Building. Moira looked at Stuart contemptously. "What am I supposed to do, Stuart? If we lie to our therapist, we're in serious trouble, aren't we?"

 

Stuart's eyes began to bug out as he clutched Moira's arm. "It-it was only the one time...really." Moira smiled, and tried to be sympathetic.

 

"Stuart, it was the one time that I CAUGHT you." She reached the therapist's door, and opened it up. "I find your fucking--excuse my French--stained porn books everywhere, and some of them have just guys in them. Stuart, is there something you want me to know?"

 

"Those are just-motorcycle magazines...I look at them for um, fun." Stuart and Moira sat down, and he picked up a "New Yorker" magazine off the waiting room coffee table nervously.

 

What had been so upsetting to Stuart--was that he had actually MASTURBATED while thinking of Dr. Townsend's firm, muscled arm swinging the belt down on Stuart's bare buttocks, and the shame of seeing his erection in front of Moira.

 

But Stu wasn't a fag-- no no! But Dr. Townsend certainly was a big strong guy with intense blue eyes...it kinda took your breath away.

 

From the inner door to Dr. Townsend's office came a sound of a scream, and some thumping. Stuart and Moira exchanged a glance. The door openedk, and a rather obese woman came out, tears pouring down her chubby cheeks.

 

"And remember, Davina, you'll be weighed again next week, and I expect you to have lost FIVE pounds" came Dr. Townsend's firm voice.

 

 "Two this week, and the three you were supposed to lose last week...think about not dissapointing me when you want to gorge yourself on Oreos." Davina's lower lip trembled, and she rubbed her ample buttocks as she called back "Th-thank you Doctor Townsend...I'll remember."

 

"You see, Moira?" Stuart asked frantically. "The man's a lunatic! Please don't tell him I masturbated...please." He scrunched the New Yorker magazine in his hands.

 

Moira tried to smile. "I'll-I'll try not to tell him, but it's hard to keep things from Dr. Townsend, you know, Stuart." Dr. Townsend's jovial face poked out from the office door, and smiled.

 

"Hello, Ms. Poynings, hello Stuart. Why don't you both come in?"

Stuart's shoulders slumped. He was no longer called "Mr. Ambrosio"--and why should he be? After a man's taken your pants down and whipped your bare ass in front of your fiance, the respect is gone, right?

 

They came into the office and sat down. Dr. Townsend grinned widely. Stuart noted with discomfort that Dr. Townsend's belt was still on the table, perhaps having just been used on Davina.

 

"So how did this week go? Did we cooperate?" Dr. Townsend gave Stuart a look, and then looked at Moira, who looked away . "What happened? Did our Stuart behave himself?"

 

Stuart nodded vigorously, while Moira looked at her hands. Dr. Townsend looked at Moira. "Stuart says yes, what do you say, Moira?"

 

 Moira looked at Stuart, who was staring at her pleadingly, and then she looked at Dr. Townsend. "I-uh...I guess he's trying." She bit her lip.

 

"Moira, did Stuart touch you or himself throughout this week?" Dr. Townsend's voice was impatient. "You can't help him or yourself unless you're honest."

 

Moira looked up, with tears in her eyes. "Stuart didn't touch me at all, Dr. Townsend, he was--" she gave Stu a baleful look-" very good about that part of the instruction,but I caught him once again touching himself--inappropriately in the bathroom."

 

Dr. Townsend clucked his tongue and looked at Stuart. "Stuart, what do you have to say for yourself? It appears that last week's correction had no effect on you, my boy."

 

Stuart's hands were shaking. "N-no, it was quite upsetting what happened last week, and very painful."

 

"Stuart ate dinner standing up that night."Moira said with a smile.

 

"And probably ran to the bathroom to pound his pud just after." Dr. Townsend sighed. "Stuart, what are we going to do with you? Disrobe, please."

 

"Wh-what?" Stuart  gasped. "What do you mean, take off ALL of my--"

 

Dr.Townsend got up and pulled  Stuart out of the chair, slapping the young man hard across the face. "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU, SIR?" The doctor was roaring at Stuart. "DO AS I SAY NOW, OR YOU WONT' BE ABLE TO SIT DOWN FOR A WEEK?"

 

In a duality of trembling and sullenness, Stuart quickly took his jacket and tie off, and then stepped out of his pants and underpants, discarding his Houndstooth Two-color dress shirt on the pile.

 

Dr. Townsend rummaged through his desk, finding a pair of police handcuffs, which he snapped on Stuart's wrists, after ordering Stuart to put his hands behind his head.

 

Now Stuart felt ridiculous. Standing in the therapist's office, naked except for his socks, with his hands cuffed behind his head, and yes--his erection was back! Moira was looking scornfully at him, and Dr. Townsend was approaching Stu's naked, trembling body.

 

"You see, Moira..." Dr. Townsend said, as he grasped Stuart's penis in his large, masculine hand, "Stuart and his member are very much like an insolent puppy that must be trained. All the touching and fondling that Stuart seems to think he must do must be discouraged in any way possible."

 

As Dr. Townsend spoke, he massaged Stuart's dick until it was thick and throbbing. All of a sudden Dr. Townsend was thrusting in his pocket, and to Stuart's puzzlement, produced a black office binder clip, of the sort that Stuart used to keep folders closed.

 

"Seen these little devils?" Dr. Townsend said, smiling at Moira. Stuart felt ignored, as if he were a statue on display. "I use them sometimes to keep my toothpaste tube rolled, they're so tight."

 

Dr. Townsend squeezed one of the clips and locked it on a fold of Stuart's circumsized foreskin. Stuart howled, but after a look from Dr. Townsend, he was silent.

 

Moira stared contemptously at Stuart, who was gritting his teeth...the pinch from the clip was intense! Moira couldn't believe that Stuart's dick was so hard, being handled by a middle aged man, it was a bit ridiculous.

 

Moira was quite an attractive girl, and she'd been chased by many an attractive man before pursuing and marrying Stuart, who was a wealthy banker. Stu wasn't as manly as many of her former boyfriends, but Moira's mother had always warned her to choose for security in the long run...

 

Daddy had been mighty handsome, but not much of a  hunter and gatherer, and Moira didn't want to support the family as a hairdresser as her mother had. So she'd become affianced to Stuart, and they lived together...but the masturbation was just a bit too much!

 

Stuart  was so lackadasical about sex...and once she'd come home and Stuart was trying on her bra and panties! She'd not mentioned this to Dr. Townsend, but certainly it was an issue.

 

Now Moira watched as Dr. Townsend put several more binder clips on Stuart's cock. Moira had accidentally clipped one on her hand in her work as a paralegal, and she knew they must hurt, but Stuart was such a sissy, she could see tears pouring down his cheeks as he stood there, his arms locked behind his head with the handcuffs.

 

Soon Stuart's dick from shaft to scrotum was covered in the ugly little black clips, and Dr. Townsend was putting more on his nipples. The contrast between the doctor, who was a bit stout in a muscular way, wearing a pinstripe suit, and Stuart in his  skinny nakedness, was quite  acute.

 

Dr. Townsend suddenly spun away from Stuart, picking up a wooden ruler from his desk. Moira watched in astonishment as Dr. Townsend began waving the ruler around in front of Stuart, causing him to back up a bit.

 

"Now, when Stuart falls...masturbating without permission, there are various ways to alter his behavior." Dr. Townsend said graciously to Moira. "Some involve pain, and others humiliation....the pain lesson is quite imperative in behavior modification."

 

Dr. Townsend took the ruler and casually knocked off one of the binder clips from the end of Stuart's penis. Stuart screamed, but Moira doubted the noise would penetrate the outside of the wood paneled office. As she watched, Dr. Townsend slapped four more binder clips off Stuart's shaft.

 

"Oh, why are you doing this to me?" Stuart screamed. His penis felt as if it were on fire. Having the clips locked on had been painful,but when they were knocked off , it was phenomenally unpleasant.

 

"You must learn, young sir, that (whack) your penis is not a toy for your amusement."Dr. Townsend said as he knocked more clips off. "Onanism is a sin...a serious sin."

 

Dr. Townsend handed the ruler to Moira and gestured. "Why don't you try this?"

 

Moira hesitated. "I don't want to hurt Stuart...I want him to want to be with me...not out of fear, Dr. Townsend." She paused. "Besides, you knocked all the clips off his penis and scrotum...all that are left are the nipples."

 

Dr. Townsend smiled genially."Moira, you must use discipline to make Stuart do as you wish. Otherwise he won't know what's important. He'll learn to want you soon enough." Dr. Townsend pointed at Stuart's nipples and smiled. "Go on, get your anger out, dear."

 

Moira lifted the ruler tentatively, looking at Stuart's pleading eyes. How ridiculous he looked with his elbows locked behind his head! Remembering the lonely nights when Stuart would come to bed, spent from having shot his seed, and cruelly turning away from her on the bed, Moira became angry, and she swung the ruler

 

It hit the binder clip on Stuart's right nipple, but the clip didn't move. Stuart did, however, bending over, and bursting into tears from the pain. Moira knew that nipples were very sensitive.

 

"Stand up, Stuart...take your gruel." Dr. Townsend said severely. "Hit a little harder, Ms. Poynings, the clamp will come off. Be a man, Stuart. As soon as you have the nipples  free from clamps, I will unlock your cuffs and you can dress again."

 

Stuart straightened up. "Stick your chest out, sir. Be a man." Dr. Townsend said severely. Stuart was still hunching a bit, and Dr. Townsend went to his desk and removed a cane. WHACK! The cane bounced off Stuart's back and he moved forward quickly, jutting out his chest a bit.

 

Moira smiled as Dr. Townsend winked at her. "Give it your best my dear." The psychologist said with a smile.

 

Moira lifted her ruler, watching Stuart's eyes close. WHACK! This time the ruler successfully knocked the binder clip off, and Stuart howled again.

 

"Now the other nipple, and we'll be done." Dr. Townsend said briskly. "Just remember this, Stuart, the next time you want to pleasure yourself."

 

Stuart's face was covered in tears. "P-please no more, Dr. Townsend..."

 

Dr. Townsend  slashed Stuart's left buttock, and he screamed again. "You will stand still and let your fiancee knock the other clamp off, or I will knock it off with my cane...would you like that, sir?"

 

Moira looked at Stuart and thought again about how she'd found him wearing her frilly bra and panties, his big feet stuffed into her high heels...she grimaced and struck hard!

 

And there was a fearful howl heard in Dr. Townsend's waiting room!