First there was the Unethical Therapist’s Untold Stories featuring Mr. Douglas as the unsuspecting patient of O/our Unethical Therapist. Used, abused and financially exploited. His therapy brought him into deep servitude and enslavement as his Therapists slave.
The second chapter was told by Domina Shelle as an audio book, again featured Mr. Douglas, aka slave dougie, a successful, in charge, exploiting businessman, domineering of his beautiful unhappy wife. His therapy was centered around his own unhappiness. The Therapist brought in Her Assistant, Madam B, aka Lady Helena and the beautiful Mrs. Douglas, with the three Women conspiring to bring Mr. Douglas to account. As you may recall the key moment of truth. ““Let’s not disturb them. you can see your wife has gotten acquainted with your Dominatrix. We thought she should share in these experiences and live out her desires also. Like you, she was learning the pleasure of worshiping a powerful woman… as he came to accept his new role with ALL the women in your life as the cuckold slave.
Now one of Domina’s slaves bring you the next Chapter in this story from his perspective and imagination.

Slave randy’s story – Two Birds With One Stony

I know you remember my last story, in which Mr. Douglas was brought to his knees through my hypnotic suggestions and sent home to his wife already my slave. As I am sure you can guess, I am not a homewrecker, but a therapist of a very different stripe. While collateral damage in these matters has sometimes occurred, it is always my purpose to leave the wife undamaged and unaware. So I sent him home to his wife, knowing that contentment within their marriage would have no bearing on his conditioning and his status as my abject slave. I was confident that this arrangement would work well for them both. I could not have imagined HOW well.
Sarah’s story: My name is Sarah Douglas. I married Henry Douglas the weekend following our college graduation. We had our problems. Henry never seemed entirely comfortable married to me. First, money was tight. I thought his discontent would ease when we became financially comfortable, but it didn’t. Maybe the discontent came because my previous boyfriend was actually a girlfriend. But he convinced me Maria didn’t concern him. “The past is the past” and we stopped talking about it. But the thought lingered and it still troubled him.
I knew he was depressed about something. It showed in his troubled sleep, in his lovemaking, which became more intermittent and more unsatisfying to us both. He was a “competent” lover, but it became distressing when he failed to reach even that level as a lover.
You know the male “orgasm face”? Imagine how shocked I was when, one night while making love, it didn’t appear! He had actually faked an orgasm which was unheard of for a man. It alarmed me. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to create the atmosphere and conditions that would arouse him more deeply, but nothing seemed to help.
At my wit’s end, one day out of frustration and need, I sought out my old college lover. Maria was both comforting and tender. The sex WAS great, as always, but there was no remaining emotional connection, and we both knew it. In short, it didn’t help a bit.
Henry is a good man. I could tell my distress bothered him a lot. So I wasn’t surprised when he told me over dinner that he had arranged to see a therapist and had his first appointment with her. I was delighted, frankly. He thought enough of us to get help from a highly trained therapist, exposing his thoughts and fears, seemed like a loving gesture. He’d picked a female therapist both surprised and pleased me. Henry is a lover of women in a lovely, non-sexual sense.
Most of his friends have been women. I was never threatened by this. I was proud that women were comfortable with him. I knew she would have an easier time reaching him than a male doctor. He said that he would be seeing her every other week with a phone session on opposite weeks. Her name was Dr. Michelle Rivers and she was highly regarded. He seemed more relaxed and at ease which made me happy.
I assumed his improved state of mind would improve his lovemaking. It did. He was more interested and enthusiastic. But something was off. Ever experience listening to a guitarist whose instrument was just slightly out of tune? Or how compelling the singing voice, the slight discordance, once you’ve noticed, it can’t be overlooked. This was my new sex life, improved but somehow out of tune.
It is difficult for me to relate what happened next. It is almost a cliché of the idiot male sex partner. Our love making was unusually good this night. For only the second time we reached orgasm simultaneously. I was rapturous as this looked like a breakthrough. He was drifting off to sleep as I whispered “I love you, baby” in his ear. He murmured back “I adore you, Shelle.” He fell back to sleep and I was gone from our bed.
I was devastated. No question. You likely think I was dumbfounded but actually, I wasn’t. I knew enough about therapy to know that a patient can develop a crush on the therapist. The patient/therapist relationship is one of great intimacy and patients sometimes lose their footing. But if the relationship is severed, they generally regain it. My life with this man, who I love, was imperiled. But it could be salvaged. I decided the best course of action was to see Dr. Rivers myself and explain what had happened. I was confident she would immediately refer him to a different therapist and he’d get over his infatuation promptly with nothing to reinforce it.
My phone call the next morning went to the answering service. I left my name and said that it was urgent that I speak with Dr. Rivers as soon as possible. She returned my call within 15 minutes. She was very professional, but obviously surprised to hear from me. I started to tell her what had happened, but she stopped me. “This is no conversation for the phone. Could you be at my office at 11? We need to talk face to face. This is quite serious.” Although I was a bit nonplussed at having to bottle up what I had planned to say for the moment, I agreed.
I was there at exactly 11 and ushered into her office by her assistant, a fit, lively brunette who introduced herself as Helena. “Please make yourself comfortable. Dr. Rivers will be with you in a few minutes”. The idea of being comfortable in this woman’s presence was laughable. But the office was tasteful and obviously calculated to relax and calm. A key-wound mantel piece clock ticked softly. Overstuffed chairs upholstered in a beautiful cotton chintz fabric invited relaxation and the linen curtains at the windows spoke of serenity. I was not surprised when she entered and seemed to be the natural focal point of this beautiful place. I don’t know what I expected, but I think I gasped involuntarily. She was simply stunning in a knobby silk raglan sleeved blouse. I even blushed.
“I’m so sorry” she said. “I did not mean to startle you”. I was happy for the opportunity to excuse my reaction.
“I’m afraid I’m a bit jumpy. Your office is really lovely. It isn’t what I expected at all.” She smiled. “Clinical and antiseptic are not synonyms for professional. You seemed a bit jumpy on the phone. Tell me what happened and we will see if I can help you.”
Resolved to be calm and rational in telling my experience with Henry last night, I instead became nearly hysterical. “God, I don’t want to watch my marriage dissolve”.
She soothed me like a mother with a crying baby. It helped. She went to the office door and spoke to Helena. “Is the tea ready? I think Sarah could use a cup.” “It’s ready and waiting, ma’am” came the reply, followed immediately by Helena with a cup and saucer. I’m not much of a girl for tea but took it reluctantly. Shelle explained. “It’s just lemon balm, nothing sinister. But it works wonders at calming nerves.” She smiled and I began to warm to her, rather against my will. I finished telling her about my fears for my marriage, somewhat more calmly, and found that I had rather enjoyed the tea.
“You still look terribly stressed. I think it would do you good to stretch out on the couch. It seems a cliché, but it is effective, I promise.” She gestured to the couch and I complied. It seemed somehow natural to follow her instructions.
“First, I want to make you a promise. What happened last night, your husband’s avowal of love for me isn’t a crisis. In fact, it won’t even be a problem for either you or me in the long run. I need you to believe that. I will NOT end your marriage. Together we will save it. In fact, we will transform it into something better. Now lie back, close your eyes, and let’s begin with you taking some long, deep breaths. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth. Trust me. I am not only your therapist, but also your friend.”
“You want me as a patient as well as Henry?” I asked, with some alarm.
“Of course. I will be seeing you daily for the foreseeable future. Joint sessions will come with time. And don’t concern yourself with my fees, they are waived for the present. I could not in conscience ask you to pay me to cure a problem I had caused, even inadvertently.”
Maybe it was the tea, maybe her words, but I had begun to relax and trust this woman. I did as she instructed, lay back, and began to breathe deeply.
“Breathe in” she said, “and out. Again…”
Shelle’s story:
Some clients go under more easily than others. Sarah, her skepticism at bay, sank under my control quite quickly. She spiraled down to a level where I could begin my reprogramming easily.
“Sarah, continue to go down for me, deeper and deeper. You are totally relaxed. So relaxed that it is impossible for you to move. And you will go deeper still…” I took her down and down, into the depths of her subconscious mind. She was mine to do with as I pleased. And I had decided not only to enslave her as well as her husband, but to place her in a position of day-to-day authority over him. In the hierarchy of my world, all women outrank all men. We are naturally superior, and in my reality, the reality created for my slaves by Me, this is utterly accepted by everyone.
“Sarah. You are deeply asleep, but you hear everything I am saying, and it will be imprinted in your mind. Let us talk about your marriage. Take a deep breath, and breathe out all resistance to sharing your secrets with me. They are our secrets now. When I know them, I can help you. Breath in…and out. Go even deeper for me. Sarah, you are not happily married, are you?”
“I think so.”
“Sarah, who controls your marriage? Who is the alpha? Is it Henry?”
“Not anymore.”
“Why is that? Is he too weak?”
“Is it you?”
“And why is that? Are you too weak?”
She looked confused. “No. No.”
“Would you be more happily married if you controlled the marriage?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good, because I am going to make that happen. It is best for you both.” I paused to let this sink into her subconscious. “Sarah, I am going to wake you now. This was the first step in transforming your marriage. Does this make you happy?”
“When you return home, you will not mention to Henry that you have seen me. Tell him I have asked you to come for a session tomorrow, which is true. When you see him, think of how wonderful a marriage would be where YOU held the reigns, the control. Think of how happy HE will be under your control, and how much stronger your bond will become. Now I am going to wake you…”
Two days went by and I reinforced this idea in Sarah. I was looking for a sign that my suggestions had firmly taken root, so that we could move on. It happened more quickly than I had foreseen. I asked Sarah about the state of her marriage, and she smiled and said “It’s better. I’ve been thinking about what you said about taking the reins. I decided to try and see if it was something I could actually do. Henry said he was going to get his haircut. He always gets it cut too soon and too short, so I forbade him. He argued a bit, so I simply said ‘You will not do this. Period.” and he immediately complied. It was a real high. In fact, after he went to work, I had to masturbate to come down.” I knew it was time for the next step.
Sarah went under very quickly, as always. I took her more deeply than she had ever been, almost beyond sound and light.
“Sarah. You have begun to dominate Henry. Is this true?”
“Yes what?” I asked. She looked confused and said nothing.
“When I ask you questions, you are to answer ‘Yes Mistress’ and ‘No Mistress’. You will do this because you love me, like Henry does, and you want to obey me, like Henry does. I told you I would transform your marriage, and I have. Henry is now your obedient husband. But it is not his primary function any longer. First and foremost, Henry is my slave. As you are. Do you understand?”
She trembled, but the words came. “Yes, Mistress.”
“Henry is being drained by me, both emotionally and financially. Think of him as a sugar maple, tapped for its sap. The tree is kept healthy to continue to produce, but it’s function is to provide, and it does. This is Henry. I will not drain him past his ability to keep you comfortable, but he is my slave forever, and this is his function. This is his permanent condition.”
“I am entrusting Henry to your keeping. You will set the terms of your relationship to suit yourself, as long as your rules do not contradict mine. I will approve any rules you make for him, or disapprove them if necessary. And you will obey me in every particular. You. Will. Obey. Disobedience will be severely punished. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Kneel and tell me that you are my obedient slave.”
She knelt, and the words came. The ones demanded and many more. She was mine for the taking. I brought her out of trance because I wanted her to remember clearly what happened next.
I walked to the door. “Mistress Helena, we are ready for you now.” “Yes, Mistress” came the prompt response. Helena came in, and I ordered Sarah to her knees.
“You must now proclaim your obedience, not only to me but to Mistress Helena. She also is your superior, and will be your trainer and the one who frees you from the confines of your marriage. Begin by kissing our feet.”
She obeyed at once.
“Because you are my slave, you are also the slave of Mistress Helena. Acknowledge this fact.”
She obeyed at once.
“Will you be obedient to each of use, without question or hesitation?”
“Yes, Mistress Shelle. Yes, Mistress Helena.”
“Sarah, do you love me?”
She hesitated and her struggle was apparent. “No, Mistress.” It was the last resistance she would ever show.
I glared. “I think you are lying. If I find evidence of this, you will be punished. Stand up. Mistress Helena, strip the slave.”
Helena, efficient as always, had her naked in moments. “Stand with your legs slightly spread, and your fingers locked behind your head.”
She obeyed, and I caressed her cheek and smiled. “I think the proof will be easy to find.”
With one finger, I gently spread her open and drew one finger along her. When I reached the goal, I gently circled it with the tip of my finger. Her breathing grew shallow and her obvious wetness increased. I took her to the very edge of orgasm, and stopped. I kissed her and said “It seems clear to me that you desire me intensely. Do you admit it?”
She nodded her head and gasped the words “Yes Mistress.” Her body was still trembling from my caress.
“How could you desire me to this degree if you did not also love me? Admit it, Sarah. I am now the love of your life.”
She choked back a sob. “Yes Mistress. I love you. I didn’t mean to disobey. I thought you would be angry at my presumption. Please forgive me.” Tears ran down her cheeks.
“You are forgiven. Remember this, you are Mine, and I not only allow you to love Me, I demand it. Now you will go with Mistress Helena and she will help you toss off the constraints of your marriage to a man. He need never be free of your control and your rules, but you are absolved of all promises to him. Tomorrow we will allow him to join us in a session. You’ll enjoy the fact that he will be paying for the humiliation that will be his portion. And I will require him to demonstrate to you that you are forever free of any thought of obedience to him.”
Sarah’s story
Mistress Helena led me away, taking my arm firmly but gently.
“Mistress Shelle has given you to me for the evening. We are going to make love, you and I. Think of it as your declaration of independence.”
Helena’s room was less elegant than Mistress Shelle’s office, but clearly decorated with the same care. I couldn’t help notice, however, that it was equipped for bondage play. A closet stood open, filled with all kinds of gear and devices. Some interested me, some terrified me and some I couldn’t identify at all. Helena noticed my interest, and said “Not for you. Not tonight, at least. The Mistress wants you punished for your resistance, but not like that”. She led me to the bed and I was surprised to see a framed photograph of a soldier on the nightstand.
“Is that your boyfriend?’ I asked.
“No, my brother” she replied. “He’s deployed to Iraq, although he’s home on leave at the moment. You may even meet him. You’d like him. He’d certainly like you. But first things first.”
I watched as she slid out of her clothes. She was smooth and hard, fit to the extreme. I asked if she was ex-military, and she laughed. “No one ever heard the words ’Yes, Sir’ out of my mouth. I’m just an ex soccer player.”
Still naked since I had been stripped in front of Mistress Shelle, I was shivering slightly. Mistress Helena smiled.
“Cold? Let’s see if we can generate a bit of body heat…” She pushed me gently but firmly onto my back on her bed. She had truly wonderful fingers. She traced the curve of my neck and kissed me, hard. I closed my eyes, so I could concentrate on the feeling of her fingers in my hair, stroking my cheeks and temples, her kisses almost leaving me unable to breathe. She kissed with the insistence of a lover, but the grace of a women, carnal, but not crude or sloppy.
I thought she might concentrate on my breasts and nipples, but she simply kissed them each once and slid down the bed. Her fingers ran slowly, delicately down to drawing circles around my hip bones. I could feel my body come alive under these seemingly magical fingertips. She turned me onto one side, and the fingers found their way to the small of my back. She was finding spots to ignite that I’d never known to move me. The feeling of the caress of the small of my back left me half-breathless. She made Henry look like an amateur, and I said so.
“Only a woman can really know a woman’s body” she whispered, and rolled me back on my back. Those incredible fingers were now stroking my inner thighs, almost imperceptibly, each individual fingertip discernible in long, elegant strokes, and I was shaking, nearly frantic. Tears, the distillation of pure need, were running down my cheeks. She kissed them away. “Please” I said. It was the only word I could form.
And then her long, blue strapon was inside me.
She used a rhythm that nearly drove me insane. She began with a shallow thrust, then another, six in all, and then caught me unprepared with a full, deep seventh stroke. Beginning again with the shallow thrusts, this time five followed by two deep. Then four shallow three deep. “What are you doing to me” I gasped. “Intense, isn’t it? I learned it in Japan. Very ancient” She went on, subtracting one shallow and adding one deep with each repetition, and I was nearly beside myself.
After one shallow, six deep she started the whole process again, but this time slid a pillow under me to elevate my hips, and the increased friction was nearly unendurable, but she was in total control of my body. I locked my legs around her hips and tried to bring myself to orgasm with my own body’s motion. “Not yet, not yet” she murmured. “I decide when”. Three times through the cycle and she whispered “Now” and with quick, deep thrusts pushed me over the edge. I’d never had an orgasm like it before. If the earth didn’t move, the bed damn sure did.
“I bet that poor excuse for a husband never made you cum like that” she grinned. “It was incredible,” I replied “but I have to tell you that it didn’t seem much like punishment.”
“Oh that was not the punishment. That comes now. For this, you will be tied.” I knew I had to obey, plus I was too completely spent to resist had I wanted to. Very quickly I was tied spread eagle on the bed, with the pillow again underneath me. “Now we will see what you have left to give.” Reaching into the night table, she pulled out a hitachi. Before she switched it on, she turned the photo of her brother face down on the table. “I don’t think he needs to see this, do you?” The buzzing began and I thought I would die of orgasms. I was literally begging for mercy long before she stopped. “Have you learned a lesson here tonight?” she asked. “Will you obey and give the Mistress the answer she wants the first time she asks you a question?” Soaked in sweat, still writhing from the last orgasm, I could only nod. “Okay”, she said. “Now, I’ve done all the work and you’ve had all the fun. I think it’s time you showed me how very grateful you are for my care and instruction.”
I have no idea how I made it home.
Shelle’s story
Henry Douglas arrived at my office promptly at two. He was something of a dolt, but even he had caught the scent of a serious change in the wind. He just had no idea what it was. He was keeping his appointments as instructed, paying his tributes as instructed, no doubt rubbing himself raw thinking about me, but something had obviously gone wrong. He knew, of course, that his wife had begun therapy with me, and following my instructions she had been careful not to tip her hand as to why. He hadn’t been in the market for a marriage counselor, so I’m sure he was bewildered as to why I had been treating Sarah. This was fine with me. As a male, he is on the lowest rung of the food chain in Shelle’s world, and is allowed to know only what he actually needs to know. Which, beyond saying “Yes Mistress” really isn’t much at all. He kneels, worships and is drained like a bathtub. So when he arrived for a “joint counseling session” he had not an inkling of what to expect.
I took control at once. “Get on your knees, My slave. I think we can dispense with the ‘Mr. Douglas’ now. Your therapy is about to enter a new and exciting phase. Well, that’s not exactly accurate. Exciting for Sarah, profitable for me, but likely pretty challenging for you. Do you have any notion why Sarah came to me?”
“None, Mistress. I’ve been worried”
“You might well be. It seems that, like a typical male oaf, you couldn’t keep your lust for me out of your marriage bed. The two of you made love, Sarah told you she loved you, and you responded ‘I adore you Shelle’. It’s a tribute to her regard for you and your marriage that she didn’t throw you out the door then and there. She came to me to try and convince me to refer you to another therapist, but we both know THAT really isn’t possible, is it, slave? So I did the next best thing.
I emancipated her from you. You stay married, but under a whole new set of rules. You continue to serve me, as before. You continue to pay My fees and tributes, as before. But you also now pay me a tax to have sex with your wife and pay for her sessions with Me.. There will be no exceptions. You won’t even try to talk her into ignoring this rule. I have to tell you that Sarah is now my slave, just like you. Actually, that isn’t quite accurate. She is NOT just like you. In fact, you are now her slave as well as her husband. She can have sex with you, after your fee is paid, or not, as she chooses. She also can have sex with anyone else she chooses, like Mistress Helena. Since you’ve been fucking Me in your dreams, you obviously don’t have anything to say about it. As a slave, you will simply obey her orders, because they are my orders.”
Henry was stunned. Speechless.
“I didn’t hear a ‘Yes, Mistress’. Is any part of this unclear?”
“No Mistress. I am still allowed to serve you, though, right?”
“Of course. Don’t step out of line again. But you will need to be punished.” I stepped to the door. “Mistress Helena, Sarah, we are ready for you now.”
They came into the room, and Henry began to internalize his new reality.
“Are you okay?” he asked Sarah. She ignored him.
“Mistress Helena, you have spoken to your brother. He agrees with the proposal?” I inquired.
“Oh, he’s quite excited by the idea” she punned.
I turned to Henry. “Mistress Helena’s brother is home from Iraq on leave. We have offered you to him as his personal plaything for 48 hours. It seems he has accepted our gift. Helena will deliver you to him, and pick you up 48 hours later. I am sure he will be completely satisfied with his weekend. Don’t you agree, Sarah?” “Yes, Mistress”.
I thought Henry was going to be sick. He was literally shaking in humiliation and fear, but he knew there was no escape. I knew he had learned a hard lesson.
“It really upsets me to have to do this, Henry. After all my hard work with you, my guidance and control, it seems a pity to have to be so harsh. After all, it is a first offence, and I know that you will be a very good boy in the future, obedient and docile, and that I will be able to guide and control your sexuality as before. So here is my probation offer to you. I will give you a choice. Either you go with Mistress Helena and ‘entertain’ her brother for the weekend OR you may beg Sarah to take your place. If she accepts, you are off the hook. Either way, you will have earned your collar and a slave name. But you must choose now.”
Henry was going through serious changes, but it didn’t take long. He fell on his knees before his wife and begged. As we had arranged, she made him wait for an answer. Finally, she said. “All right, slave. I will do this for you. Because I love you. But believe me, you will be paying this debt with interest.” It was all a trick to dupe henry into begging his wife to service Helena’s brother.
Sarah smiled. She had a shiny new marriage, tailored to suit her new needs. Mistress Helena smiled. She had a new slave girl apprentice to train and mold. I smiled, as my game had played out to perfection and netted me a new, devoted possession, with her sugar daddy husband paying handsomely for everything. And Mistress Helena’s soldier brother would no doubt be smiling with excitement at his good fortune later in the evening.


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