Kinky's Carnival Book 2
Autore
M. L. Smith
Letto da
85,4K
Capitoli
7
Gavin Fitzgerald's life takes a bizarre turn when his therapist, Dr. Schwartz, suggests an unconventional treatment for his debilitating anxiety and sexual frustration. Sent to a mysterious shack, Gavin encounters Ivan, who offers him a strange concoction that plunges him into a surreal and erotic journey. As Gavin navigates through increasingly bizarre and intense experiences, he begins to uncover hidden truths about his own nature and the dark, seductive world he is drawn into.
Misdirection
Kinky’s Carnival: Book 2
“Mr. Fitzgerald, you’ve been coming to me to treat your anxiety for the last twelve months, but in that time it seems we’ve made no genuine progress.” Dr. Schwartz looked up from her notepad, her light hazel eyes locking on his. “Why do you think that is?”
Gavin Fitzgerald shrugged, doing his best to keep his eyes from wandering lower than his therapist’s chin.
He’d hoped that coming to her specifically would help cure him of this unrelenting affliction toward women, but every session he could only focus on her tight clothing that accentuated the curves of her body. The swells of her breasts beneath the low-cut dress shirts she wore. The red lipstick that made her look like a siren as opposed to a shrink.
She wore her ruby-red hair in a severe bun, probably meant to be professional, but all it made Gavin crave was to free it of its confines, to run his hands through the shiny locks.
Something he could fist while pumping his dick into her mouth.
He never stared, never looked at anything other than her face for more than a handful of discreet seconds, but it wouldn’t have mattered. He was hyper-aware of everything about her.
Gavin was a struggling man, incapable of ignoring the rampant desire that lived in his head, controlling his mind and body until he was sick with want. But even worse than being perpetually horny, Gavin was incredibly shy to the point where he couldn’t do a damned thing about the desire he was plagued with.
Stuttering, incapable of eye contact with strangers, extreme bouts of nausea. Sometimes he even had panic attacks and called off work for days at a time, though it wasn’t a huge issue now that he worked from home.
He’d hoped to get better with several therapy sessions a month, but Dr. Schwartz was right. He’d made no progress whatsoever with her, not really, but he couldn’t help coming here. Almost as if something mystical was making him return, over and over again.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled in answer, his palms becoming clammy when she raised a brow, waiting for him to continue. When he didn’t, she sighed, sitting back in her leather chair and folding her hands over her notepad.
Her office was cozy, meant to induce a sense of tranquility. The walls were sky blue, the furniture all light brown. Even the cushions on the couch he sat on across from her were lemon yellow to match a peaceful aesthetic. To make him more at ease.
It was too bad that it didn’t help him in the slightest.
“Gavin,” Dr. Schwartz began. “I can only help you if you try, but each session you’re becoming increasingly more closed off. We sit here in silence the entire hour unless I initiate conversation with you. And even then, I have to pry and pry until you give me anything to work with.”
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”
Dr. Schwartz pursed her plump red lips, drawing his attention. His mouth watered, groin tightening until he looked away, afraid he’d get a boner if he looked at her any longer. It wouldn’t be the first time to happen in this very room.
“Talking with you and helping you understand yourself is my job, yes. But it is your job to help me help you. Refusing to speak about your difficulty with women—”
“It’s not just a difficulty,” he interrupted.
Dr. Schwartz leaned forward, giving him an ample view of her cleavage. Fuck, he just wanted to grab a handful, to see for himself how soft and perky they were beneath the blouses she always wore. His palms itched to do just that, to rip her top off and make those juicy tits bounce—
“Gavin? You’re not listening,” Dr. Schwartz scolded, sitting up straighter until her creamy flesh was nearly hidden from him. His face heated, turning a dull shade of red as he sputtered for a response. “Take a breath,” she instructed, waiting for him to calm down.
“I-I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I-I was doing—”
“You do know what you were doing, Gavin. You were staring at my breasts,” she stated, daring him with her eyes to deny it. He couldn’t, running his sweaty palms over the tops of his thighs, the fabric of his jeans chafing his skin.
“I can’t help it,” he blurted, unloading a lifetime of his woes at her feet in a matter of seconds. He’d never been this honest with her before, but the tightness in his chest eased as he spoke. “It’s not even just you. It’s every woman I find attractive. At the office, at the subway, at a restaurant. I can’t even go out in public lately. It’s so bad that I’ve been working from home. I only leave my house to come here.”
His boss had had a field day with his new remote status, berating him until his self-esteem was at an all-time low.
Dr. Schwartz hummed, and it drove him mad, sounding more sensual than anything else. “What happens when you see a woman you find attractive? Is it like what we just experienced here? The staring? Is it more? What do you feel?”
Gavin pulled at the collar of his shirt, gulping. He didn’t want to answer her, but her hazel eyes were practically shining in the light, reflecting a beautiful gold he found himself getting lost in.
“I want to fuck them. A-any of them. All of them. My dick gets so hard, it’s all I can think about. What position to put them in. How far down their throats I can slide my dick before they gag.”
Just talking about it made him painfully aroused, pressing against his leg and the zipper of his jeans until it was physically uncomfortable. He adjusted himself. Her eyes wandered to his hands, brows raising in surprise before she met his gaze once more.
“Okay,” Dr. Schwartz said softly, giving him a sweet smile that stretched across her face. He wanted to stretch her lips with his cock, to— “And when was the last time you approached one of these women?”
“What do you mean?” he asked tightly, throat thickening as he tried and failed to contain the raging lust that was now swirling in his gut.
“Have you ever gone up and propositioned them for sex? You’re an attractive man, and clearly you aren’t lacking when it comes to your equipment.” Her eyes trailed down his body, lingering on his erection.
He shook his head immediately. “N-no. I can’t.”
Dr. Schwartz knew he had a horrible time trying to talk with women. Gavin might not have conveyed a ton to her in the past year, but he’d told her that. He got tongue-tied, his stomach twisting into agonizing knots until he thought he’d throw up.
Just thinking about it made him nauseous, his erection flagging to his utter relief.
“Is it the fear of rejection?” Dr. Schwartz tilted her head. “Have you been rejected before?”
“Once when I was in high school, but I was so nervous when I tried to ask her out, I threw up all over her shoes.”
She nodded. “And how did she react?”
“She laughed with her friends and then told the entire school about it. It was humiliating.” His stomach churned, remembering it all in vivid detail. “But I was already so nervous around the opposite sex before that.”
“Are you a virgin, Gavin?” Dr. Schwartz’s question slid over him like a warm caress and he drew in a sharp breath, hands trembling on his knees.
“What do you think?” he asked snarkily, though embarrassment caused his voice to rise slightly.
“There’s no shame in being a virgin, Gavin. Even at thirty. And porn? Do you use that for relief?”
Gavin shook his head. “I did when I was younger, but it just makes my thoughts worse, so I stopped.”
She hummed again and Gavin dug his fingers into his kneecaps as his pulse spiked with adrenaline.
“Have you thought about hiring a prostitute to help you with this issue?”
His mouth dropped open in shock, heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t believe she would ask something like that. “Wh-what?”
“A prostitute. Someone who you pay money to have sex with who won’t judge you or any inexperience you might have?”
“I know what a prostitute is,” he bit out through clenched teeth. “I tried one before but I was too nervous to hold an erection,” he admitted pathetically when she didn’t respond.
Dr. Schwartz stood from her chair, smoothing down her tight skirt. Walking to him, she sat down beside him on the couch, placing a hand over his and squeezing.
And just like that, he was as hard as a rock, taking shallow breaths in the hopes of cooling the heat building inside of him.
Oblivious to his growing discomfort, Dr. Schwartz leaned in, the sweet floral scent of her perfume filling his senses as he inhaled. There was a hidden spice there that called to him, making him hungry for more. “I have something to propose that may help you, though it is extremely unorthodox.”
Oh, holy fuck. Was she going to ask to have sex with him? His brain short-circuited, gaze going back to her breasts. Would she let him fuck them? He couldn’t help but imagine sliding his dick between her juicy ti—
Dr. Schwartz grabbed his jaw, her pointed, manicured nails digging into his face as she leaned in even more closely, gazing into his eyes. “Don’t be naughty, Gavin.”
Ashamed that she’d caught him and understood his dirty look, he licked his suddenly dry lips. “I-I’m sorry.”
“I know you are,” she whispered, eyes roaming his face before wandering to his mouth. “I want to help you. You should be in the sexual prime of your life. Meeting women, falling in love, falling in lust. It’s clear that you desire it. That you need it. Don’t you need it, Gavin?”
Her voice was sultry, sliding over his flesh until every inch of him was heated, eager for her to do more than stroke him with her words.
“Y-yes.”
She smiled again, releasing his face and standing. He was tall, even while sitting, which put her breasts at his eye level. Gavin jerked his head away, tapping on his knees with his fingers in an attempt to focus on anything else.
Walking back to her chair, Dr. Schwartz leaned over, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of her round ass, perfectly cupped by her skirt.
“I’m going to give you an address,” she said, snatching up her notepad and pen. Scribbling on it for a few seconds, she tore the top paper from the pad, turned and handed him the page.
Hands shaking, he took it, rattling off an address aloud for the seedier part of the city. “This isn’t for a prostitute, right?”
“It’s nothing like that,” she assured with a smile. “Like I said, it is unorthodox, so you’ll need to go there with an open mind.”
Gavin sighed, holding the paper tightly in his hands. “I can barely function as a normal adult and you think I can just waltz into some unknown place?”
Dr. Schwartz smiled again, her eyes shining like gold in the light. Gavin blinked once and it was gone, her normal hazel orbs holding him captive.
“If you want to get better. To really start to live, Gavin, you’ll do this.” She pointed at the paper. “Go there. Ask for Ivan.”
“Is he a doctor?”
“Of a sort. He’ll take a look at you, diagnose you, and work on a remedy to help.”
Gavin stood from the couch, towering over Dr. Schwartz as he stared down at the paper. A small sliver of hope filled him the longer he stared at the address, wondering how long it would take to get there by foot.
“Is there a number I can call to set up an appointment?”
Dr. Schwartz bit her lip, reaching out and grabbing his forearm. The warmth of her palm made him shiver. “He’ll know you’re coming. No appointment needed.”
