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Tuesday, March 13. 4:30 PM "Do you know what a fetish is?" asked Elizabeth. Dr. Mason paused before responding. "A fetish...." "Yes." "I assume that you are referring to a 'sexual' fetish?" "Of course," Elizabeth teased, while playfully twirling the bow on her crisp white blouse. Today is Dr. Jonathan Mason's (just 'Jon' to most people who knew him) first meeting with Elizabeth. Last week Elizabeth was Greg, a slight and introverted young twenty-something man who barely spoke during their hour-long sessions. Greg began his therapy three months ago at the suggestion of his e-wife, Shannon. They were still friends following their ever-so-brief marriage, and Greg was willing to try anything to uncover what Shannon described as "your inner demons." He was beginning to feel more comfortable with Dr. Mason during the past few weeks, opening up a little more with each session until he confessed of the existence of Elizabeth. When asked if he wanted to meet Elizabeth, the doctor responded enthusiastically. A "breakthrough", he called it. Now, the person that Dr. Mason knew as "Greg" sat in front of him dressed in smart women's business attire comprised of a white bow blouse and gray tweed pencil skirt. Dr. Mason almost did not recognize the delicate strawberry-blond woman his patient; her green eyes and sugary voice conveyed a confidence that he never saw in "Greg." He was eager to get to know Elizabeth better. By contrast, Dr. Mason was a rugged, outgoing character. A married father of two teenage daughters, he was always ready with a quick smile and compliment. He had male model good looks; with his casually tussled sandy hair and pale blue eyes he reminded some of a young Robert Redford. The casual observer might assume this man had a huge ego, but they would be wrong. Dr. Mason had an easy way with everyone he met; he had a way to make everyone feel that they were his peer and that they were the most important person in the room. Now these individuals sat across from each other in a small room well- appointed with rich leather furniture and dark wood walls adorned with the doctor's ornately framed diplomas and pictures of family. Neither of them could have imagined what would eventually transpire in this room. Dr. Mason continued, "Well, a fetish...the one that you are referring to, is usually described as the state of experiencing excitement in response to an object or body part." "You make it sound so scientific," replied Elizabeth. "That's no fun..." "I'm sorry, I don't know how else to describe it. Do you?" Elizabeth paused to ponder her response. "I think..." she began as her eyes searched the ceiling. "I guess that's sort of the same way that I would describe it," she chuckled. The doctor smiled while recording their conversation on his small lined pad. Elizabeth continued. "But do you know why people have their fetishes? Like, what is it that makes a guy get a hard-on when he sees a women in high heels, or....sees her feet, or whatever?" "Well," Dr. Mason replied, "if you are looking for the clinical reason there is a prevailing theory among psychologists that when you're in a high state of sexual arousal, your disgust impulse weakens. And so the things you'd normally find repulsive, like feet, or spit, or feces may not seem so gross. It's almost like a heightened state of arousal changes your perception of the world, and that changed perception might lead you to incorporate different things into your sexual acts." Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. "Ew. You actually made it sound worse than I thought you would." "Well, you asked for my opinion!" "I think that fetishes are based on life experience, and that they are connected to your first arousal. Like, I can remember when I was younger, maybe about twelve or thirteen...me and my brother would go fishing with my dad. But after about an hour or so we would lose interest and we would go playing in the woods, like hide and go seek or something. It was one time when I was the one hiding that I found a bunch of old porn magazines in the woods...and there were pictures of women on their knees with the guy's junk in their mouth...I never saw anything like that and I was shocked! I mean, I vividly remember feeling a warmness rush run through my chest and it felt so forbidden. So I quickly dropped the magazine and ran out of there as fast as I could. But that image of the woman with her lips around the guys penis...man, that stayed with me for the longest time." "You say that it felt 'forbidden'....and that you threw the magazine down. You were repulsed." Said the doctor as he leaned in and rested his elbows on his knees. "Yeah! But the more I thought about it I would get aroused...I sometimes wondered whether it was because it was around the time that I was entering puberty?" "It may have been....but I also believe that your experience demonstrates exactly what I was explaining. During puberty you were in a vulnerable state and easily aroused. When you found that magazine it contained pictures that would normally have disgusted you. But those impulses were weakened and now those images and the act of oral sex are inexorably linked to your own feelings of sexuality." "So you think that has a connection to why I like to be 'Elizabeth'?" "That's difficult to confirm. There are many reasons why men prefer to wear women's clothing and I think that it varies between all cross- dressers." "No, I think you might be on to something," said Elizabeth. "Maybe, by being 'Elizabeth' it's a way for me to justify these thoughts. When I think of sex, it's the thought of giving a blow-job that consumes me and it's what makes me most excited. I constantly fantasize myself in a scenario, as Elizabeth, giving blow-jobs to men...blowing multiple men...I swear, I'm not a freak or anything but it really turns me on when I think of myself being the 'slut' at a party or the office...sneaking away to suck on some naive guy and satisfying him...sometimes I even image being in the center of a circle of guys and taking turns sucking on each guy or even two at the same time. Having them blow their loads on my face, and---I'm sorry, I'm being vulgar, aren't I?" "Having these fantasies is healthy, there is nothing abnormal about your thoughts." "I didn't mean that, I just...maybe I was just talking too much," Elizabeth replied. "Listen, I understand, but please don't ever think you need to hold back on anything you want to tell me, that is why I'm here. I'm happy that you feel comfortable enough to express yourself in that way," Dr. Mason explained. "Your assessment of yourself is very astute." Elizabeth smiled and nodded. "Have you ever acted out any of your fantasies?" the doctor continued. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Elizabeth replied playfully. "Purely a clinical curiosity." "Uh huh...sometimes I think you might be a little kinky yourself, doctor. I have not had an opportunity to be with a man, if that's what you are asking. Perhaps that's a story for next time." "I think that's a good idea," said the doctor as he glanced at the clock on the wall. "I would like to thank you for such an interesting hour, this has been very enlightening. And I'm very glad that I met you, Elizabeth. Unfortunately, our time seems to be up and I must allow my next appointment to see me. You don't mind, do you?" "Not at all, and the pleasure was all mine. I had a wonderful time too. I do hope we meet again." Elizabeth stood and Dr. Mason followed and draped her black cardigan over her shoulders. "Thank you, Dr. Mason. I look forward to our next meeting." "Very good, I shall see you next week." He watched Elizabeth from his second floor window as she crossed the parking lot and entered her compact Honda. Tuesday, March 20. 3:55 PM Greg sat in the plush leather chair across from Dr. Mason, sipping the lukewarm coffee that he bought at the cart parked on the corner. They exchanged in some small talk about the weather ("this weather can't make up its mind lately. No wonder my allergies are out of control!") and what both of them have been up to since they last met. It was Dr. Mason who first brought up the topic of Elizabeth. "I think we made a great deal of progress last week, you seem much more relaxed when you are Elizabeth. Would you agree?" "Oh yeah, I mean sometimes I feel like that is the true me. I think that's one of the main reasons I was so upset when Shannon didn't accept her. Well, me." "That's quite understandable. But before we discuss your relationship with Shannon, tell me more about your cross-dressing. At what age did you begin to try female clothing?" Greg cleared his throat and explained, "Not as early as you would think, or at least as early in age as other cross-dressers that I've read about. This is going to sound weird, but I remember being turned on by Marcia Brady. Not really by her but I was attracted to her clothes. There was a purple button down blouse that she wore that I remember just loving how she looked in it. It was very feminine to me, for some reason that I can't quite explain." And one day after watching T.V. I was feeling aroused and I snuck in my mom's room to try one of her bras under my shirt. This became a frequent event and after a while I was trying on her panties...then her blouses and skirts. It was easy because she worked a lot, so I would have a lot of time to smuggle her stuff into my bedroom to try on before she got home." "And how old where you at that time?" replied Dr. Mason "I guess about ten or eleven." "So, this was before the discovery of the adult magazines that you told me about last week." "That's right," said Greg. "The best days were when I would stay home sick from school had the house to myself. My mom had some really pretty outfits, since she worked in an office. You know, like a lot of polyester skirt suits, button down blouses, silk and satin blouses, that sort of thing." "Do you think that your mother's style influenced your own sense of style?" "Oh, most definitely. I tend to wear either stuff that you might see a professional woman wear, or just casual 'housewife' stuff. Nothing real fancy" "You looked very attractive yesterday, I must commend you. Now, I'm interested in whether you had any formative experience during this time that you were just beginning to experiment. Had you gone out in public dressed up when you were that age? For instance, Halloween costume of school play or something?" Greg shifted in his chair and nervously rubbed his mouth. "There was this one time when I was over my friend's house...this was during the summer and his parents were at work, so of course we had the run of the house. Ummm, I'm a little fuzzy on the details of how we ended up doing what we did...but I'm pretty sure it started by us playing strip poker." "So this is just you and your friend..." "Steve, yeah. Well, there were a few of us there...I remember Steve's little sister, I think she was a year younger. And there were two other girls there from the street where we lived. God, I don't know what got into us, but we were playing the game and one thing led to another. I do remember feeling no inhibition at all; I had no problem stripping down in front of the girls. None of us did, I guess it was just one of those rites of passage, or whatever." "Sure, children at that age have a natural curiosity," said Dr. Mason. "I guess. Eventually, I remember me and Steve both running around the house, not a thing on! The girls did not strip, though. Now that I think of it, I guess they weren't as curious as we were," Greg said with a chuckle. He could feel a swelling in his pants and wondered, 'would the doctor notice'? "Man, I can't believe I'm telling you this...so we were both naked and I remember us all dancing around the play room, me and Steve shaking our penises and the girls laughing at us. Then I ran upstairs and I went through his little sisters closet and put on one of her dresses...you know the kind that little girls wear, it buttoned up the back and had a white rounded collar and frills. It was so little on me it barely covered by butt. I ran downstairs with the dress on and they all just laughed like crazy. We continued playing and the girls got it in their head to dress me and Steve up." "How did Steve react to this? Was he as into it as you were?" "He played it off like he was but he went with it. We went into his mom's closet and picked out outfits, his mom had some really pretty gowns and stuff. The girls did our makeup and hair and dressed us up in his mom's panties and bra. Me and Steve played like we were doing a fashion show, we stuffed our bras to make us look like we had huge boobs...it was so much fun." "Did you continue these games with Steve or the girls after this day?" asked Dr. Mason. "No....it was weird, none of us ever brought it up again. It was almost like we all took a solemn pledge 'to never speak of this again'," Greg bellowed dramatically in an ominous-sounding voice. "In fact, we all slowly strayed from each other over the course of that year. I always wondered whether one of the girls told their parents about what happened. Although, my parents never confronted me about it...but I always felt a bit 'shunned' by Steve and his family afterwards. Not that they outright ignored me, it was just different. It's difficult to explain" "So was this the extent of your experimentation into cross-dressing, or did you continue?" "No, I just did it in private. I still stole clothes from my Mom and dressed up while locked in my bedroom. I normally waited until I knew my parents were asleep so that I wouldn't have to be caught off guard if one of them knocked at my door." "Was there ever a time when you quit?" asked Dr. Mason. "When I moved in with Shannon. We were almost always home at the same time so it didn't really give me a lot of free time," replied Greg. "But there was a time where this became a conflict for you; you explained when we initially met that your marriage failed because of your desire to dress in women's clothes. Tell me more about that." Greg groaned and shifted in his chair. "Well, I told you that there was a period where I was not dressing up. It was actually about three years, and I was really beginning to get the urge again. So, about six-months after we were married I began to use her panties to masturbate. I would discreetly snatch a pair from the hamper and use them in the bathroom before a shower, or something." "But, I'm assuming that it wasn't enough?" "It got so that I couldn't complete with Shannon when we slept together, unless I was imagining myself dressed up in her clothes. I had all kinds of fantasies of going out with her and her friends, like a 'girl's night out' and being accepted. They would all tell me how cute I looked, and these thoughts would get me so hard I would explode," Greg explained. "If these were fantasies, then how did Shannon discover your penchant for cross-dressing?" asked Dr. Mason. "I got greedy. We were both drunk and fooling around and she was hinting around that she wanted to try new things. So I thought this was my chance, I was tired of staying quiet while we watched T.V. and not being able to comment on how cute I thought a dress or outfit was. I couldn't stand to continue to be silent, so I gave her some story about how I read about couples dressing up like each other and how hot I thought it was. When she agreed to my suggestion I was shocked! I was sure she was going to shoot me down" But she was actually into it, and she changed into one of my casual shirts and pants and I chose a dress from her closet. We fooled around a little and I played submissive, you know, like getting into a more feminine role. But she couldn't commit, and told me it was weird and to get out of her dress. I pleaded a little too much and after a lot of back and forth I admitted how much I enjoyed wearing dresses. Long story short, here I am today." Dr. Mason allowed a pause in the conversation in case Greg wanted to continue and scratched notes into his leather binder. The antique wall clock ticked away. Greg listened and felt that the ticking was in sync with his own heartbeat. He felt relieved to be able to explain this issue to someone. The doctor spoke up, "I can understand the conflict with your need to cross-dress. But there are many couples that have been able to make it work. As it turns out, Shannon was not that person. This type of thing occurs all the time when two people find themselves clashing over fundamental values. Those values are built over time and are influenced early on by family and environment. Those are hard things to break and, normally they cannot." Greg nodded in agreement. "You will find someone who understands you, I'm sure of it. These days the opportunities to meet people from all walks of life are virtually limitless. I find myself caught in a similar struggle sometimes within my own family. And I think I can learn a lot from you as well." Dr. Mason continued. "Tell you what, I had an opening tomorrow afternoon. Why don't you come by and we'll try something out. I think you might benefit from it. Are you game?" "Absolutely, doctor," Greg replied. "What time?" "See me at three o'clock." Wednesday, March 21. 2:55 PM Greg walked into the small lobby of suite 505 and noticed immediately that Michelle, Dr. Mason's pretty assistant, was not at her desk. He thought is strange that she would have left already, the office didn't close for another two hours. Apprehensively, Greg tapped lightly on the office door and called, "Dr. Mason? It's Greg...I'm here for my appointment?" After a couple of seconds the door opened. "Greg, of course. Come in! We are still on." "Where's Michelle, did she go home?" Greg asked. "Yes, I let her go early. As this is an important session for both of us I wanted no interruptions. I hope that her absence does not make you uncomfortable." "No, not at all. I was just wondering." Greg glanced at the plush leather chair where typically sat. Across it lay a tan garment bag. This must be part of today's therapy, he thought. There was also music quietly playing, was it Taylor Swift? Another first. Dr. Mason lifted the garment bag from the chair, "Have a seat, we'll get to this soon. I was thinking a lot about our last conversation, you revealed a lot of details that I think we can use to help you. In fact, I believe I may learn a lot from you." Greg relaxed and crossed his legs, listening intently to what the doctor was telling him. He was intrigued. Dr. Mason continued, "As I explained in our prior sessions, the act of cross-dressing is a perfectly healthy means of expressing yourself. In addition, when you have sexual tendencies towards men while cross- dressing, you are identifying yourself as a woman, and that means that you are able to reach deep inside and surrender to that "other person" that resides in all of us. In your case that is a good thing, despite what your ex-wife thought of your fantasies. I think that I can help to take you to the next level." "Great, I feel ready to move forward," said Greg. "We are going to engage in some role-playing today. Have you ever tried it?" asked Dr. Mason. "Other than chat rooms I never have. What did you have in mind?" "I would like you to change into the clothes I have packed in this garment bag. When you exit the rest room your name is 'Amy'. You are twelve years-old and I am your father. Do you understand?" "Sure, that sounds easy enough." "And we must not break character. I will lead us in conversation and you can answer in any way you want, but allow it to be a natural reaction of your character." "Got it," said Greg, picking up the garment bag. "See you in a few secs." "Very good. Remember, you are 'Amy'. See you soon." Greg closed the door to the rest room behind him He unzipped the garment bag, and reached in and took inventory of the clothes that were contained within. The clothes appeared to be a school uniform; there was a white polo shirt with the words 'St. Theresa's' stitched above the left breast side, along with a pleated green-plaid skirt. A plastic supermarket bag wrapped around the hanger contained a brunette wig, some hair ribbons and some makeup items. Wadded together at the bottom of the bag were a pair of saddle shoes, white knee socks, a small white bra and floral print cotton panties. 'I guess these must belong to his daughter,' he pondered. He held the polo to his nose, there was a faint aroma of perfume combined with fabric softener. Dr. Mason's daughter Amy wore 'Princess' by Vera Wang so often that its fragrance resisted the wash cycles. Greg supposed he may as well commit to this particular method of therapy. After all, this was a really cute outfit and whatever the doctor had in mind, it gave him the opportunity to dress up today. Something he hadn't planned on. A pleasant surprise, indeed. He had the struggle a bit to put the bra on; it was smaller than he usually wore and it dug into his skin. He crumpled some toilet paper into petite breasts, the size he imagined a twelve year-old might have. The cotton panties were also too small, despite his own small frame. He played with his cock under the soft fabric, it felt nice. He pulled the polo shirt over his head and it clung tightly against his thin frame. As he pulled the short skirt up to his waist and tucked the shirt in, he began to transform into a pre-teen schoolgirl. The transformation continued as he slid the bright white knee-socks over his smooth legs. A little makeup and cute hairdo, and he would be completely reformed. Thirty minutes had passed and Dr. Mason sat at his desk, tapping his pen patiently when a young schoolgirl exited the rest room. She wore her long brown hair in a ponytail in an emerald ribbon tied in a bow. The doctor's blood immediately rushed to his nether regions and he felt his penis swell at the sight of this young girl in front of him. He composed himself to play his role. "Amy, it's about time you've come home. We need to talk, come over and have a seat," the doctor demanded. Greg, as Amy, walked to the chair in front of the large desk and sat. He smoothed his skirt and held his knees together. "What is it, Daddy?" he said. "I was just online reading your grades. What is this about you not handing in your homework for the past month?" "That can't be true, Daddy. I do all of my homework." "Are you calling your teachers liars?" said Dr. Mason. He stood now and sat on the desk in front of Greg. "I'm more inclined to agree with them, you do nothing but sit in your bedroom on your phone all night. Am I mistaken?" "No, Daddy I do my homework. I swear I do!" Greg replied. He was enjoying being a young girl. He was enjoying where this was going. "Bullshit! You spend all of your time on the phone with your friends and your grades prove it. I'm afraid I'm going to have to take your phone away from you until I see improvements. And MAYBE I'll consider giving it back. You have to learn that there is more to life than that damn Facebook!" "Oh Daddy, please. I promise I'll do better. The teachers didn't post all of the grades yet, I'm doing better than it says!" "You're not going to convince me, young lady. I want your phone now." "Daddy, please! Please! I'll do anything you want, just please don't take my phone, I need it!" Greg pleaded. "Amy, I've heard this all before..." "No, no, I mean it this time. Let me show you..." Greg knelt in front of the doctor and nuzzled at the mound under his expensive dress pants. "Mmmm...oooh Daddy..." he cooed breathlessly. "Let me make it up to you." Dr. Mason unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants, exposing a rigid, thick penis. He leaned back and gasped when he felt the soft lips wrap around the tip of his cock. His eyes gazed from the ceiling down to the top of his patient's head, which was rhythmically gliding up and down his shaft. "Amy, baby that feels so good..." Dr. Mason groaned. Greg locked his eyes with the doctor's as he massaged the penis with his tongue and throat. The more he sucked, the more turned on he became. His own penis was thickening as well, until it poke out of the small girls' cotton panties he wore. He could feel the little nylon bow at the waistband was moist with his pre-cum. He felt like a little girl and this was so dirty; the thought of sucking on her father made increased the craving. "Daddy, you taste so good...I love your hard cock..." "Oh, honey you are so good. You are making Daddy feel soo good." Dr. Mason "I like to make you feel good, Daddy," he whispered. "Can I be your little cum slut?" "Yes, Amy...oh yes you are my little cum slut" Hearing this, Greg feverishly gulped at the doctor's cock; spitting on it and rubbing his lips up and down the length of the shaft. "Amy, honey, lick my balls. Please baby, lick Daddy's balls." Dr. Mason pleaded. "Mmmm, yes Daddy," Greg replied, smiling. He swirled his tongue alternately around each smooth ball while he jerked the doctor's rock- hard cock. Then he inhaled sharply and sucked both balls into his mouth and slurped on the sack. "Ooooh, Amy..." Greg released the ball sack from his mouth with a loud pop. "Daddy, would you fuck me?" he asked playfully, and resumed sucking the doctor's cock. "You dirty little slut...you want to fuck your own Daddy?" "Yes, I want to feel your huge cock inside me. I want to feel my Daddy's cock on my little pussy...c'mon Daddy, wouldn't you love to fuck your dirty little girl." Dr. Mason's body jerked. "Oh my God, Amy...you're going to make me cum now!" "Mmmmm, okay, you can fuck me later then, Daddy. Let me taste your cum; I need to taste your load." "Amy, I'm ready...oh Amy, I....ah..." Dr. Mason grunted. He inhaled a deep breath and held it. At that moment the doctor's cock pulsed and spurted hot cum down Greg's throat. Greg grabbed the doctor's ass cheeks and pulled him in tight, loving the feel of the throbbing meat in his mouth. He could feel the cum shoot violently against the back of his throat and he groaned with arousal. He held the cock in his mouth until the throbbing diminished and he performed small, quick suckling on the shrinking cock. Dr. Mason shuddered, his cock was so sensitive and he almost could not stand how delightful it felt. He breathed heavily, as if he just ran a hundred yard dash. Greg sat back on his feet, eyes closed and enjoying the lingering salty taste in his mouth. He moaned and caressed the small, pre-teen breast forms under the soft polo shirt. This was the realization of all of his fantasies and he wanted more. Dr. Mason finally broke the silence. "I hope that this was therapeutic for you." He said under labored breath. "Um, yeah I think it was," Greg chuckled. "I guess I better get changed." "Certainly, I think our time is up on our session anyway." Greg turned and the doctor flashed him a satisfied smile as he tucked his penis back into his pants. He blushed and closed the door to the rest room behind him. Thursday, March 22. 1:00 PM It was the next day and Dr. Mason entered the office and took a seat on the deep leather chair that faced the large ornate and cluttered oak desk. The man on the other side of the desk watched him sit and folded his hands. "So, Jon...how are you today? You appear to be a bit more cheerful than during our last meeting." "That is true, I feel like a considerable weight has been lifted. You remember our conversation last week?" replied Dr. Mason. "Of course," said Dr. Chamberlyn. "You were worried about some impure thoughts that you were having concerning someone close to you. I trust your method of lifting this 'weight' was healthy and not damaging to anyone?" "Oh yes, doctor. I feel that I reached a breakthrough both mentally and physically." "Good, good...then let's start from where we left off, shall we?"