Dr. Ashley’s Psychiatry Office.

The first thing I thought upon entering Ashley’s office, was that she had probably spent all afternoon moving the sofa here from her living room. Ashley was a small woman, and the sofa was not a small piece of furniture. I didn't dwell on this thought for very long, though, because the next thing I noticed was Ashley herself. Ashley’s hair was pulled back in a businesslike ponytail, and she had donned a pair of sharp-angled glasses that made her look both stern and sultry. She was wearing an expensive-looking red blouse that was unbuttoned enough to expose the lacy black bra she wearing beneath. Her black skirt was criminally short, but she was wearing a pair of tight, red pantyhose beneath, obscuring the skin of her crossed legs. Her shoes were pointy and black, and the right shoe was hanging halfway off her foot as it bobbed up and down. I would have to remember to complement Ashley’s costume later, because damn if she hadn’t knocked it out of the park.

As the door closed behind me, Ashley looked up from her clipboard and gave a professional smile. “Ah, my 9:30. Please, come in and make yourself comfortable. I was just reviewing some notes here.”

I gave a nervous nod and seated myself on her sofa, doing my best to look as uncomfortable as possible. “Th-thank you, doctor. I, uh, almost didn’t show up today.” I cast my gaze down to my feet, a task more difficult than it sounded, given the sexy psychiatrist in the room with me.

“Oh? Well, I’m glad you did decide to show up.” Her voice was measured, enunciating every syllable, and she sounded professional without sounding cold, “I can understand a bit of nervousness, of course, since your notes here say that you have never spoken to a psychiatrist before?”

I nodded again. “Th-that’s right, ma’am. I, uh, I’ve been meaning to for y-years but I guess, uh, well, this is my first time, yes.”

Ashley wrote something on her clipboard and nodded along, “And what makes you think you need the help of a psychiatrist?”

I gulped nervously. “W-well, I, um. Nerves, mostly? Or, uh, maybe a l-lack of confidence?” I coughed, apologized, then continued, “There are things I want, b-b-but when I have the opportunity to take them, I, uh, I just f-freeze.”

The sound of Ashley’s pen against paper was constant throughout my explanation, and when I finished she stopped and waited for a few moments, reading. “Well, a lack of confidence certainly could be your problem, or a part of it. Now, I see that you have a job, you seem healthy, and you own a home and even a cat. Exactly what sort of things do you want, but seem to freeze up on?”

I looked very embarrassed and did my best to summon forth a blush. “W-well, uh. Things with, uh, people. I, uh, haven’t submitted my resume for a p-promotion in years. B-but mostly it’s, uh, w-women.”

Ashley smiled at this, but it was an understanding, sympathetic smile, more than an amused or cynical one. “Ah, I thought that might be the case. Yes, I think I might be able to help you out. Now, since you’ve never worked with a psychiatrist before, would I be correct in guessing that you have never worked with hypnosis before?” I nodded at this, and she made a mark on her clipboard before continuing. “Naturally. Well, no sense in wasting time. Why don’t we go ahead and get started?”

I finally looked up to meet Ashley’s powerful gaze, and nodded.