The Therapist's Intimate Problem

To Margaret Jenkins – With Appreciation and Affection

As the end of her first year operating her independent clinic neared its close, Louise Bellman was able to feel quite proud of her work: she had received paying clients from some of the best-known physicians and therapists in the area and her accounts showed a tidy profit. She had not yet turned 30 but was in a position to step back for a moment and look at her personal life a bit longer than she normally indulged such thoughts.

As she changed for bed one night, she looked at her 5-9 frame and thought she still was in excellent physical shape. While Louise enjoyed some occasional enjoyment with a few select female clients, she had no ongoing relationship outside of her work. She mainly found herself most pleased when becoming intimate with another woman but during her long training, she had also been very very satisfied by relations with attractive men, including some of her professors and instructors. And then Louise's mind turned to her one nagging problem and what she might do about it.

Running her clinic dedicated to treating women with excretory problems had sensitized Louise to her own increasingly irritating health problem. Here she was approaching 30 and her menstrual periods were becoming more and more of a burden. They tended to last longer, and the flow had become increasingly heavy. Louise now found she used many more tampons and maxipads each month. She also disliked the feeling she experienced far more often now during the day that she needed to change her sanitary protection imminently or see the results of an accident stain right through her clothing.

Things had reached the point where the pretty therapist now wore a pantyliner in her panties all the time. She had gotten quite fed up with finding spots in her panty crotch every time she used the toilet or prepared for bed at night. Unfortunately, since she still sometimes allowed herself to shed her clothes during some of her patients' treatments, often engaging in rather close contact with them then, she had noticed tell-tale stains in her panties then and had somehow kept her patient from seeing them. It would not do for a therapist specializing in solving excretory problems to be observed with stained underpants.

Louise was attending a professional conference frequented by the area's most successful urologists, proctologists, and ob/gyn's as well as those closely involved in providing attendant therapies. During a coffee break, she found herself chatting with a woman she had met at a similar gathering, a tall austere doctor who seemed to see right through the normally quite-reserved and formidable Louise's protective barriers. This was Dr. Elizabeth Wilson, who had slowly established a very busy practice in gynecology, specializing in women with menstrual disorders.

Dr. Wilson found when she started her practice that most of the male gynecologists who dominated the field had tended to regard women's complaints about painful and difficult periods with a good deal of skepticism. The word "hysterical" of course refers to the womb and was applied to the behavior of such women by the male-oriented medical profession of the day. Slowly, word spread among the country-club set at first that there was this marvelous new doctor—a women, amazingly—who had been successful at helping women with these nearly unmentionable problems.

These women were not the sort to chat about such things and usually referred to the entire matter as "female problems" but the word still got around that Beth Wilson was the doctor to see when a woman was enduring monthly pain "down there". Beth spent many long evenings and weekends researching the few inquiries that had been made into how to alleviate period pain. She knew that most of the over-the-counter remedies were not enduringly effective and she came to learn which herbal treatments and then a few prescription drugs managed to relieve the severe cramping, heavy periods, and other menstrual complaints.

Dr. Wilson was a good-looking woman in her early 40s with flaming red hair and a fine figure. She knew that she was more appealing to her clients if she emphasized her femininity, so she wore skirts and dresses in lieu of the mannish pantsuits that so many female physicians donned to appear more "professional". Realizing that it was far too risky to initiate anything sexual with her patients, Dr. Wilson contented herself with the occasional female therapist or perhaps another woman doctor who shared her enjoyment of the same sex.

Her secret, though, was, amazingly, similar to Louise's. Beth had been a bit of a live wire in her college days, although she hit the books hard to gain admission to med school at a time when women were still disfavored for admission. There were plenty of men Beth's age who recalled wonderful evenings in bed with the flaming redhead whose pleasures they enjoyed beneath her luxuriant red bush. Beth, too, still appreciated the feeling of being filled by a strong, well-built man's large member. Again, she shunned fellow physicians but had met a few men here and there in her travels and even at some local social gatherings.

Louise was becoming more distraught by her heavy periods and the irregularity that accompanied them, evidenced by the stains almost daily on her pantyliners. She, who treated women with urinary and rectal disorders, was suffering from what emerged from her most sexual opening each month—or more often than that, in her case. Finally, she managed to find a moment to approach Dr. Wilson at a monthly professional luncheon.

Summoning all of her nerve, since Dr. Wilson had always regarded her as a fellow professional despite her lack of a medical degree, she felt, and had sent clients to her, Louise cornered the redhaired doctor and asked her if she had a moment for a personal professional question.

"Why, of course, sweetie," Beth Wilson smiled. "Of course," she went on, in a highly favorable and complimentary tone, "I'd expect that given your experience, I probably can add little to your knowledge of ...our field," she concluded with only the slightest grin.

"Actually, doctor," Louise began, "this concerns the aspect of the subject that I don't have as much familiarity with but which is central to your practice. I'll get to the point: my periods have become very heavy, somewhat painful, and longer. Also, I seem to be spotting so much that I have a pantyliner in my pants all the time now."

Beth Wilson could readily observe the discomfort on the normally cool Louise's face as she related her clinical problem. Knowing how adept Louise was at resolving women's urinary incontinence and defecatory difficulties, she recognized immediately that the younger woman was clearly in distress to have come to Beth with this embarrassing problem for a therapist in this specialty.

"Louise, dear," she responded without losing a beat, "there is so much we can do about this nowadays. You just come see me whenever you are able to get away from your office and I'll examine you and we can proceed from there."

Louise's face brightened, especially when the senior medic grinned at her and said, "I feel especially obliged to you since you have been able to be of such help to so many of my own patients that I will make you my top priority. Do come by tomorrow at the end of the day—is 7:30 too late?"

Knowing that it normally took weeks to get an appointment with the highly popular Dr. Wilson, Louise overflowed with warm feeling but maintained her customary cool that had been instilled in her during her training. "Of course, doctor, I will be there at 7:30."

As Dr. Wilson began to gather her things to leave, she turned to Louise and added, "I do so look forward to seeing you then. And as a fellow professional, dear, please do call me Beth."

Louise smiled confidently in return and said, most sincerely, "Thank you so much, Beth, for being so kind."

It was quite difficult for Louise to concentrate on her work the next day, as the thought of her impending appointment with Beth Wilson dominated her mind. It got to the point where she wasn't sure whether the dampness in her crotch was the result of more spotting or from her excitement at being examined intimately by the lovely Dr. Wilson.

She treated four women, mostly suffering from urinary incontinence, and reminded each that she must concentrate on doing her Kegel exercises if she expected to improve control of the bladder. Louise found that it was salutary for her to observe the patient sitting on the toilet and urinating. While the woman released her urine, Louise would order her to stop and start the flow. The women found it difficult and, in the beginning, quite embarrassing, but Louise was able to get them to relax mentally, which conversely increased their ability to employ their sphincter muscles.

One woman, Kathy Smithers, had been improving her ability to start and stop on command but became overconfident and when Louise ordered her to start, she forgot that sometimes the retained urine would spurt out more speedily than anticipated. Kathy's stream rocketed out the front of the toilet seat and splashed right on Louise's white apron.

Kathy's face reddened but Louise told her it was all right, and that this was part of the experience of gaining effective urinary control. Louise was used to all kinds of bodily fluids and substances soiling her white aprons. But she suddenly realized that the confident Kathy was also a true submissive, as the woman continued to plead for forgiveness for her "terrible offense" of splashing her pee on the therapist. Finally, Louise recognized what was needed to deal with the situation. "I do think, Kathy, that you seem to be asking for a spanking for what you did," she suggested, gently.

The woman drew a breath, began to protest, but then, the air went out of her, as she looked at Louise and said that for what Kathy had done, she agreed that she did need to be spanked "on my bare bottom". That said, Louise smiled as she wiped off her apron and bade Kathy to stand up, leaving her panties down, and walk slowly over to Louise, who sat down in a large armless chair.

She then summoned Kathy toward her with her finger, much as a stern governess might command her charge to assume the position. She pointed to her grey-flannel-skirted lap and made it clear to Kathy than she would be expected to lay across it for her spanking. Kathy, a woman in her 30s with two children, felt ridiculous yet incredibly excited to be awaiting intimate discipline from this strict younger woman.

As Kathy bent across her disciplinarian's lap, Louise patted the pretty cheeks and by placing her hand between Kathy's thighs, made it clear that she wanted them kept apart. Louise enjoyed the view of Kathy's wet sex between her legs and softly rubbed the pale cheeks. Almost imperceptibly the pats turned to soft spanks which became progressively harder.

By the time Louise had given Kathy a even twenty spanks, the woman was softly sobbing. "You needed this, didn't you?" Louise asked her softly.

"Yes, Miss," Kathy responded, subserviently. "I do miss getting a bottom-warming when I do something naughty like I did to you."

"Well, that's all over and forgotten now," Louise replied warmly, as she softly caressed the red cheeks and let her finger wander down between the spread thighs, gently rubbing the split vulval fig between Kathy's legs and teasing the very tip of her aroused clit.

Kathy responded by involuntarily moving her hips in a responsive sexual motion. Louise rubbed her gently some more and felt her wetness seeping into her fingers. "Have you had sex with your husband recently?" she asked the woman.

Suppressing a shudder at the intrusive question, Kathy whimpered that her husband had not been very loving nor at all sexual toward her since they had their second child three years ago. "And I've been afraid to...you know...help myself feel good down there for fear of ...wetting myself because of the ... bladder problem," she added, as her face turned as red as her bottom.

"There, there," Louise said calmly, while her finger stimulated Kathy's clit with gentle touches and two other fingers pressed into Kathy's now wide-open vagina. Suddenly, Kathy let out a deep deep breath and it was clear she had been brought to orgasm. Louise realized the danger to her control and had her stand and told her to practice her Kegels as her orgasm subsided.

"Oh, Miss Bellman," Kathy exclaimed, "I have been so afraid that I would pee all over myself if I dared let myself go that far. You don't know how good you have made me feel." Impulsively, she went over, hugged the therapist and kissed her on her mouth.

Louise smiled and told Kathy to keep practicing the Kegels and that it was time for her to pull up her panties and get on with her day. She smiled and told her how pleased she had been at Kathy's progress.

Finishing up her day with her other patients, Louise closed her office and then returned to her room to prepare for her appointment with Beth Wilson. She changed into a pretty pair of plain white cotton panties and a simple lacy bra that went with them in an understated way. Then she put on a blue jumper and blouse, with socks and oxfords. She realized that she was dressing as a school girl but something about Beth brought this out in her.

She drove to Dr. Wilson's office in a sparkling new medical complex near the center of town. It was easy parking and then she entered the waiting room. The receptionist behind the counter smiled as Louise walked over and said, "You must be Miss Bellman. Dr. Wilson is expecting you. Please go in." She pointed to the white thick door and Louise opened it and entered.

She found herself in the doctor's office. Beth had made this a rather formal study with a large desk and impressive diplomas from all the schools and boards she had accumulated on the walls. A door behind Louise opened and Beth walked in with a smile on her face, wearing a smart simple white blouse and grey skirt, with sheer hose and nice burgundy pumps.

"Oh Louise," she said, "you look so cute I could just eat you up!" And then the composed Dr. Elizabeth Wilson had to struggle to keep from...giggling like a school girl.

"Now come in here to my examining room," Beth said helpfully. "You'll have to take off that jumper and let me see what else you have on under that."

Louise undid the jumper and put it on a side table as Beth pointed to the examining table with the traditional gynecological stirrups that had put so many women in the most vulnerable position they ever experienced. Louise clambered up to the edge of the table and Beth admired her white panties.

"Oh, those are perfect, Louise, but we'll have to have them off for the exam," Beth exclaimed as she herself slipped them over Louise's hips and down her long legs to put them over with the jumper. Louise moved back and without being told, slipped her feet into the stirrups and found herself lying on the table with her exposed sex now facing Beth.

"Now let's give this little treasure a look that's causing you so much annoyance," Beth said as she picked up a small speculum and slowly inserted it between Louise's by-now slippery labia. Now she was gazing into Louise's sex—a view so many gynecologists took for granted, but every vulva was a new source of enjoyment for the randy Dr. Wilson.

Beth looked at both the panty crotch on the table and at Louise's wide-open split. "Have you had any spotting today, Louise?" she asked in a clinical tone.

Louise pointed to the small pantyliner in the panty crotch and sure enough, there was a dark red-brown spot way down at the center of the little pad.

"Hmm," Beth said, "something seems to have gotten your system working on overtime. And your period mostly ended when?"

"Oh, about ten days ago," Louise responded. Beth now bent over to use her small light to explore the open vaginal vault of the therapist. "Yes, I see signs here...Louise, I'm afraid this is a bit of endometriosis you're experiencing."

Louise was not pleased to hear that she was suffering from this condition. She knew without Beth telling her that the spotting was from cells from her uterus migrating out into the vagina and attaching to its walls, from which they bled as they had when deep inside where they belonged.

"But you probably don't know that I have been given samples of a new remedy," Beth smiled at the disconsolate Louise. "I will prescribe the usual things, of course, but this new prescription acts to stop further migration from your uterus. And I will apply some salve here that will end your spotting by removing the wandering cells in your vagina."

"You mean that you can cure that?" Louise asked. "In my training I heard that I couldn't do anything for women who came to me complaining of endometriosis."

"You can't," Beth answered crisply. "It's purely medical and it's also not entirely approved yet although I expect it will be and I'm one of the few gynecologists who has been permitted to use this therapy."

She reached into her cabinet and withdrew a tube of ointment. Then she opened it, spread a bit on her finger tips and proceeded to apply it deep inside Louise's open hole. "It will feel cold at first, sweetie," Beth advised as she saw Louise recoil from the freezing feeling the strong salve induced. "That's because it is highly active."

As Louise began to cry from the cold inside her tender opening, Beth softly took her fingers, washed them carefully and began to stroke Louise's labia very gently and barely grazed the tip of her engorged clitoris. "Let me make you feel better, Louise," she said in a huskier tone. "Now relax and let me warm you up."

Beth played expertly with the hard little button that Louise's clit had become and insinuated her fingers along the puffy lips and over the tiny peehole, only going a bit into the vagina she had treated with the salve. But this was enough for Louise to start bucking her hips and trying to move them on the table. Beth seemed to know just where she needed to be touched to ....oh yes, Louise thought, oh yes yes yes and ....then she gave out a huge cry and sigh and enjoyed the orgasm Beth clearly had meant to induce.

After she had recovered, Beth told her to put her panties back on. She carefully showed Louise to place a fresh pantyliner in the crotch and told her to keep one in there for the next two days, all the time taking the medication and applying some more of the salve to her vagina with a special applicator, as deeply as possible. Beth handed her the applicator, which really resembled a large dildo with tiny grooves on it—"put the salve on the first two inches of that and then leave it in you for ten minutes to reach the places your fingers won't."

Beth then presented Louise with a large tray-like container with about 20 long divided slots, much like a plastic container for knives, forks, and spoons. To Louise's surprised look, she explained its use: "Put each pantyliner in one of the slots after you take it out of your panties, with the soiled side up. This will allow me to see how well the medication is working to repair your vagina. Then come back and see me at this time in two days." She kissed Louise clean on her mouth and let her tongue just barely touch Louise's surprised tongue.

Louise put on her jumper and barely had a chance to thank the gracious doctor who told her she was so happy she could help her.

The next morning Louise awoke and couldn't resist looking at her pantyliner in the crotch as she lowered her panties down her legs to have her morning pee. The liner was actually rather messy, with a whole bunch of dark pieces or clumps of red-brown pigment around the center. Louise hoped this was what was supposed to happen and couldn't resist telephoning the doctor once office hours had begun and Louise had arrived at her own office. But first she remembered the tray and carefully put the very messy liner into the first slot.