Therapy

Sitting on one end of the leather couch, Lauren still can't believe that she is doing this...

Therapy

It was either see a therapist or be out of a job.

A very sudden and much needed reality check.

Or so it was hoped when Peter made that very strong recommendation the moment he had Lauren sit down on the other side of his desk that fateful afternoon.

"Lauren, you are a very valued Junior associate to this law firm, but your behavior has become more and more erratic and to be honest, at this point nobody feels comfortable bringing you anywhere near a courtroom or in front of a client even. We just don't know when you're going to explode." Peter says laying out the bare truth, abandoning his usual approach which is full of positivity and beating around the bush. And this industry that's usually good enough to get people to pay attention and make some adjustments.

But to the dimly-witted woman sitting in the chair opposite of him, it's not her that's the problem, but everybody else. Nobody sees her greatness for what it is. Nobody understands just what her value really is! She brings class to an otherwise drabby office. She brings wins in the most unexpected ways! If it wasn't for her leadership of the other paralegals then this office would be swamped with cases, appeals and even the lawsuits going nowhere like those bridges built in the middle of Alaska where nobody lives... "Peter, please... You know that everything I said out there is true! And besides you know that I am very popular at the parties. Why? Because I always carry myself with dignity and class and I have a certain charm about me that is quite intoxicating."

Out of all of that hubris, there was only one truth spoken and Peter knew it. Lauren carried herself in class until she started drinking. At the last year's New Year's Eve party, Lauren guzzled down so much champagne that she started doing a very Coyote Ugly inspired dance with a lampshade on her head while shouting obscenities at and about all of the other women and men that did not live up to her to lofty standards. She even made a derogatory comment about Goldberg, the other partner, regarding his Jewish background. It was so bad that it should have gotten her fired on the spot, but Peter was able to talk his partner down and blame it on the strong booze. But after years of making excuses for a higher that he was strongly advised not to make, Peter was being put on the pressure not just by goldberg, but by the rest of his employees and staff. As well as a few nudges from some very influential clients and the City of New York itself. Part of the problem that Peter recognized was that he had let this snowball out of control because he simply would never tell Lauren the truth. Why? Because a part of him felt bad for her. A 25-year-old woman who is still single, living alone and in debt hundreds of thousands of dollars.

A woman with so much promise that if she could get a grip on her perceptions and turn all of that around, could truly be an unstoppable **** in the foreseeable future!

"Lauren, everything you have said is true for the most part, but that does not excuse the many instances of bad behavior, offensive comments as well as a poor performance in the courtroom and in reality doing a job that I could have hired a paralegal to do instead of paying you $100,000 a year. So here's the deal. You're going to see a therapist or you're out of a job in the moment you're out of this office you become fair game. In fact if you don't do this you can bet that you will be sued so hard that you will never be financially out of water 10 times over."

"But..." Lauren says, her eyes opening wide and she puts on her best pouty face. "You know that we could just sue them back, right? It's called the first amendment for a reason! I mean you still believe in me, don't you?"

"Yes... But it's time to face facts Lauren. You need some help and we're going to do everything we can to help you through this troubling time in your life. I may not know all the details, but whatever's happening to you get dressed. Look, I know this really great therapist who can help you. She helped me in ways that you could never imagine and now look at me. I'm co-owner of one of the most prestigious law firms in New York City! Do you know how incredible that is?"

Waking up from her daydream, the last thing Lauren remembers before the harsh reality comes back is a business card being pushed across the desk. Looking down into her lap, Lauren flips the card over in her hand, so simple and uninspiring, but the name on the front is haunting.

Victoria Black Specialized Psychiatry

*Specialized...*

*"What does that even mean? I've been coming here for 6 months and all that I have done is sit here and talk for 1 hour sessions 3 days a week."* Lauren thinks to herself as she sits and waits and waits and waits. Looking around at the hand carved wooden panels that cover the walls, Lauren looks up at the bright white ceiling, squares of beams with inset squares more commonly found in mid-century construction. Looking for a clock, she doesn't find one and when she looks down at her wrist she's not wearing her watch. No point and looking through her purse for her cell phone. That and her watch are waiting for her at the receptionist's desk. "God... Will she ever show up? I've been waiting for what feels like over an hour!"

It's really been only 10 minutes... Sitting in her private office, Victoria listens carefully to the audio coming from the office next door. Bugged with microphones, she does this so she can learn and take notes, take notes on how her clients think and respond to situations of isolation. "Still so structured... After 6 months she's still as up tight as ever." She says silently adding the note to her client's case file. Clicking away at the keyboard, Victoria is finely manicured fingers work expeditiously as she not only notates what she is hearing word for word, but adds in the suitable medical explanations as well as her own personal thoughts. Working like a machine, she finishes up and then stands up. Turning off the monitor, she grabs her leather bound notebook and a black and gold pen. Stepping in front of the full length mirror beside the door, she looks at her reflection, does a turn, smooths out a wrinkle and then smiles at herself. "Time to play..." She says just before that perfect smile disappears and a look of emotionless stoicism returns like a mask.

"Doesn't she know that I have a very important case that I am working on?!? I know that I'll find the screw up. That idiot turney's office always makes one if I find enough of them I can get this case thrown out and yet again make the city of New York waste dollars otherwise open and shut case. I just need to get back!" Lauren moans, fidgeting in her seat. Wearing a black pinstriped Louis Vuitton skirt and jacket combination, she has it paired with a fine white silk blouse. Little legs sheathed and a dark brown nylon helps hide the pasty white skin hidden beneath as a pair of Louis Vuitton spiked heels decorate her feet. A top button left open leaves a peak of the promise of more, but like always it is a bridge to nowhere. Those relaxed looking blouses are perfectly fitted in tailored to Lauren's figure so even if she does bend over, there is no downblouse shot. Pulling on her gold necklace that has a soul 14 karat diamond dangling down, she again looks around for a clock that does not exist, sweating slightly.

*Click... Tap tap tap, click.*

Instantly looking towards the door, Lauren's instantly widen as she stares at the big round bubble pushing out her therapist' skin tight and black pencil skirt. As the woman slowly turns, Lauren's eyes starts sliding upwards. Thin and tall, Victoria is everything she's not. Figuring the woman to be about 5 ft 8, she sees the high heels but that does little to damper her disappointment at what she sees as the only woman capable of besting her figure-wise. When the redhead with the stoic face is fully facing the office, Lauren's eyes are staring right at her breasts.

Bigger

Perkier

And infinitely more impressive, it matters not if they are real or if they are fake. The fact is that it gives the redhead an advantage that Lauren can only dream about. It gives the redhead the advantage of a scale of proportion that is every man's wet dream.

She also happens to be Peter Dunbar's fiance.

"Good afternoon Lauren. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting too long. I know how busy you are. I just had client notes that I had to catch up with so I hope you can excuse my tardiness." Victoria says as she starts walking to her leather armchair situated in the middle of the room. Other than bookshelves against the wall that stretch from Florida ceiling and filled to the brim, the office is surprisingly spartan with the only other accentuating furniture being a coffee table separating patient from psychiatrist and two floor lamps and either corner opposite of the window that is kept closed via curtain.

"Not that I had much of a choice..." Lauren replies annoyed as she peels her eyes away from the enormous melons blowing out the front of the red head's maroon colored blouse. Wanting to say more but fighting her tongue, Lauren watches as Victoria passes in front of her, her eye catching sight of the woman's mound gently probing the front of her skirt. *"No wonder why Peter won't make me his mistress..."*

Astutely observing her clients behavior, Victoria takes note of the change in Lauren's expression the moment her eyes drift to her skirt. Turning to take her seat, Victoria lowers herself nice and slow, giving her client a chance to peek up her skirt if she so chooses.

And just like every time before, Lauren does just that. Seeing the big pussy peeking up from the top of Victoria's closed thighs, Lauren is seething inwardly. *"Seriously, how can want to fuck the Grand Canyon!? Also, does she always wear tighty whities? How can he seriously like that???"*

Settling in and wiggling into the cushion, Victoria sets her leather bound notepad on the arm of the chair and then clicks her pen three times on the back. "Fair point. Again, that quick wit that you are infamous for, among many things." Victoria says then looks her client up and down, letting her eyes settle on the Lauren's breasts before looking back up into her blue eyes with a genuine smile.

Catching the boobiesaurus therapist lingering on her tits makes Lauren sit up a little bit straighter, a little bit prouder. "Well, what can I say? I am working at the most prestigious law firm in New York City and have rubbed elbows with some of the most powerful and important people in the world."

Flipping open her notebook, Victoria quickly starts writing down Lauren's delusions. Sure, she's been at a few parties and even some where powerful and important people have attended, but definitely not in the same room. In fact those people were in the VIP area while Lauren was hanging out with all of the other hanger-ons getting drunk off of an open bar. How does she know this? Because Victoria got her hands on all of the security footage showing Lauren acting like a brazen and drunken brat and then being a cock tease and getting offended when a guy gets too touchy after practically throwing herself on them half the night. "Which is why it is my absolute and utmost pleasure to being your therapist because this Law firm definitely needs you at your very best, Lauren. You have a bright future ahead of you at Dunbar and Goldberg and the fact that they are doing this just for you speaks volumes about your unlimited potential." Victoria says, spinning the weave of ego inflating bullshit that she says each and every time. Working with Lauren is like a broken record and after 6 months of hoping for a breakthrough, it's time for a little change.

If Lauren cannot see her faults for herself then maybe a little inspiration, and outside influence, may help.