FMDM Inc - The Interview

I had just finished a therapy session and was glad to get back to my office and relax. I'd have to lay off the cinnamon stix in the morning, my bustier was tighter than usual. My mini-frig offered a variety of drinks and I grabbed the pitcher of iced tea and poured a glass.

Settling into the rich black leather of my office chair, I turned away from my desk to admire the sunset view out of my penthouse office. Now this was just what I needed. The sky was particularly brilliant in pink that colored my office a little in its glow.

Then my Blackberry chimed.

'Robert Carter, Newsweek Magazine'

The appointment wasn't for another fifteen minutes so I left it on my desk and indulged in the sunset over New York a few more minutes. When I finally turned from the window, I readied myself for the appointment. I put away the iced tea and got out a glass of red wine. A touch to a button and the shades drew themselves across the wide view. The papers on my desk was orderly and not distracting. The office was immaculate, as always thanks to Sheila, my personal assistant.

I opened my laptop and a video feed from the waiting room came up in one corner. I could see Sheila at her desk filing her nails. I smiled. 'Such a classically feminine gesture,' I mused. In the center of the room, stood a man who was biding his time by looking at the large pieces of art on the waiting room walls. (I never put magazines in the waiting room. Rather tacky and I wanted my guests to be thinking about what was coming next).

The seven large pieces of art were created by one of our clients as a gift for me. I'd found it very enlightening to watch people's reactions to the art before speaking with them. Mr. Carter was standing near the center of the room, the best viewing distance for each piece.

Each piece of art was vague and suggestive without being distinctly erotic. Just some lines, black or red, and the knowing eye saw lipstick against lip, stiletto heel in mouth, garter over the curvature of a toned bottom, and so on. Robert was enjoying all of them under Sheila's watchful eye.

I stood and adjusted my bustier a little in the mirror, making sure my breasts were being presented just right and my stockings were straight under my knee-length skirt. I slipped my jacket on just as Sheila buzzed.

"Mr. Carter from Newsweek is here for your appointment," came Sheila's soft, submissive voice.

"Thank you, Sheila. Bring him in."

Robert was a slender but attractive man in his twenties, almost pretty if you really looked at him. He was obviously very nervous but as I clicked sharply across the marble floor in my stiletto heels, I gave him a smile and a warm handshake. In my shoes, I stood two inches taller than him. I knew it had an impact. It always does on men. Sheila quietly shut the door behind him.

After gesturing him to a seat in front of my desk, I took my own seat behind it. There would be no mistaking the power relationship here. I crossed my legs and smiled at the corner of my mouth as his eyes couldn't help but stare a moment through the glass top of my desk at the exposure of the lace of my thigh high stockings.

"How may I help you, Mr. Carter?"

After asking my permission to record the interview, he placed a digital recorder on the desk between us and got out a steno pad for notes. He certainly looked like a top reporter.

"Thank you, Ms. Halliday for granting Newsweek this interview. You recent coverage in the news has a lot of people very interested in what you've created here at FMDM Incorporated. I'd like to understand better what FMDM is all about and how you came to create it."

"You're welcome, Mr. Carter. I will state for the record that our business requires complete confidentiality and we guard our clients' privacy with great care. There will be questions I will not answer so I'd suggest you not waste your time on them."

This gave him a little pause, but he recovered quickly with a nod. "Now, as I understand it, FMDM is a privately held company founded seven years ago by yourself and three other women, each clinical psychologists. What is FMDM?"

I leaned back a little in my chair. "FMDM is a therapeutic practice dealing with clients with particular needs." I could read him the text from our public web page but I decided to string it out and see how good he was.

"And what are those needs?"

"We are all complex creatures, Mr. Carter, woven of many needs and desires. It is the pursuit of those needs and desires, or rather the inability to pursue them that creates so much distress, depression, anxiety, and general unhappiness in our clients. FMDM Incorporated is dedicated to progressive therapies which relieve these negative psychologies and enable our clients to live much more fulfilled and happy lives."

"Is it true that FMDM is focused on clients with gender identity issues?"

He'd done his homework. The public website says nothing about gender issues.

"Gender is more complex than you realize, Mr. Carter."

"How so? Either you're male or you're female, right?"

"There is the gender of your body, yes, but there is also the gender of your inner self, the gender you present to the outside world, and the gender of your sexual identity." This raised his eyebrows a little and he shifted in his chair, a good first sign.

"So FMDM performs sex changes?"

"No, no. We are a therapy practice only. If a client wished to consult with us about possible sex reassignment surgery, we would contribute what we could, but the actual evaluations and surgeries are outside the scope of FMDM."

"What about body augmentation?"

Hmmm, he wasn't dancing around things, but if that is how he wanted to play it, fine.

"Surgical procedures are outside of the scope of our practice. We are on excellent terms with the top practitioners in the area on a referral basis."

"How do you find your clients?"

"Although we have had some word of mouth business, we are almost exclusively a referral clientele."

"Referrals?"

"Other therapists and family members mostly."

"How would they know what FMDM does to know to refer them to you?"

"We have private confidential consultations with possible referrers explaining exactly what we do in great detail. The consultations are for women only."

That raised his eyebrow again.

"I was led to believe that your clients are only men."

"Mr. Carter, I will not characterize our clientele individually or as a group. Their privacy and confidentiality is our highest responsibility."

When he paused, I took advantage of the moment to stand and walk slowly around the desk and his chair. I studied him with a practiced eye, fully confident in my position as the dominant personality in the room. He squirmed a little under the scrutiny and there I saw it, a telltale bulge in his pants. Smiling to myself, I sat down again behind my desk.

"Can you explain your approach?"

"Well, without giving away trade secrets or things that would impinge on client privacy, let me explain it this way. A client will contact us and we'll set up an interview. At the end of the interview, we will determine if we can help the client or not. If not, we thank him and offer him referrals to other, more traditional practices."

"And if you can?" Carter was getting more eager and his erection had escaped down a pant leg.

"The client signs various legal agreements and we set up our Exploration Sessions. We place the client under a light hypnosis to relax them and allow them to be completely honest with us. We discuss their issues and what they are seeking. At the end of each session, we lift the hypnosis leaving them relaxed and refreshed, but with no memory of what was discussed."

"Why is that?"

"Many of our patients have issues opening up about themselves and we seek to allay any anxiety the sessions might produce. In some cases," I paused slightly, "what the client needs requires us to provide it as if they hadn't had to tell us.

"At the end of the Exploration Sessions, our therapists make a final evaluation and determine what course of active therapy would be beneficial for the client, how frequently, and other details. The recommendations are discussed with the customer and if they agree, they become a member and begin."

"Is it true that membership includes a fitness center? Isn't that a little odd for psychotherapy?"

"We've found that body image plays an enormous role in the lives and mental health of our clients. Our active therapies often include strong regimens of exercise and diet. The more we can relieve their anxieties about their body, the more we can make their appearance a source of positive feelings, the more successful our active therapies will be."

"What does all this cost for a client?"

"For clients we accept, the fee for the exploration sessions is $1,000. Exceptions are made in specific cases. If we accept them as a member, further arrangements are made."

Carter looked at his notes. He seemed to be calming down a little, focusing on being a professional. Time to turn up the heat.

"Do you understand what gender therapy means, Robert?" Using his first name was a deliberate move to disarm him. "For example, how would you describe Sheila, my secretary?"

Robert stalled a few seconds, gathering his wits before responding. "She's a lovely woman."

"Certainly, much of Sheila has embraced the female, but he first came to me as Sherman." I watched as his mind jumped back... how he'd ogled her toned legs in their stockings, how he'd snuck glances at her deep cleavage and imagined her lips on his cock. Sheila was a star member whose therapies had been so successful that she made an excellent face of the company.

Robert's erection was back in full force.

"Different clients have different goals and needs, most less... pronounced than Sheila's path, but FMDM does whatever it takes to fulfill their deepest desires."

I stood and slipped off my jacket, revealing my satin corset and my breasts in their full glory.

"I always find it fascinating to talk to a potential client directly," I continued, sitting on the edge of my desk, my legs inches from his and my skirt riding up slightly. "To discuss their ideas on femininity, sexuality, and fulfillment. To talk about simple things, like a pair of women's panties... slippery satin, sexy cut, bright pink... to find out how they felt when they first bought a pair for themselves, or when they first told a girlfriend about these desires. How they feel when they strip naked and touch themselves with the panties... or when they first dared to put them on..." My voice got more and more husky and my hands began to touch his leg, exploring.

"And then... to hear how they first asked a woman to...force... them to dress up like a... sissy..."

And that's when Robert exploded in his pants. I saw his eyes flutter and his erection throb, pumping out a load of cum under his pants and creating a big wet spot. He shot cum all over the thigh high stockings and garters he was wearing under his slacks. I'm sure the pretty panties he was wearing were soaked with precum from the moment he dressed to come to this 'interview'.

With one finger, I stroked his cock once through his pants and then stood, walking back around my desk.

"But I'm getting off course. Did you have any more questions for me?"

Robert was blushing fiercely as he shook his head.

"Good," I replied with a smile. "Session over."

The key words caused his to visibly relax and calm down. He was still in the glow of his powerful orgasm, but the hypnosis was over and he recalled everything: his fantasy of being a reporter trying to get a scoop about FMDM, Inc. but wanting to be found out, wearing his favorite lingerie into a corporate office and being discovered.

"Thank you, Mistress Satin," he said quickly.

"You're welcome, Robert. I hope that it was all you'd hoped it would be?"

He grinned and nodded deeply.

He left the steno pad and digital recorder and I put them back in my desk where they belonged.

"Good session, honey. Now report down to Veronica for your workout and to get cleaned up. You're scheduled to work my private party this evening, so wear the black satin maid's outfit and I want to see a #9 butt plug in you when you get there. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress. Thank you, Mistress."