Now the intrusive thoughts are getting worse. They’re even happening during our therapy-fantasy sessions. You can barely focus as you sit across from me in my office while I calmly take notes… crossing my legs… letting my heel slip off… flexing my toes while you try not to stare.
You keep insisting I’m your Goddess.
Your mind is convinced my feet are the ones you’re meant to serve.
Of course that’s ridiculous. I’m just your counselor.
Still… the thoughts keep getting louder.
Maybe the best treatment right now is to stop resisting them. Stroke when the urge comes. Edge while you stare. Let the pressure build until you explode… and swallow every drop.
Not for me, of course.
For therapy.
Just trust the process.
