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A heavy, ear-ringing silence settles over the waiting room after Acheron sits down. She begins to fidget with growing anxiety. Her knee bounces, her booted heel thumping against the carpeted floor in an attempt to break the silence. Soon enough her focus narrows to the arhythmic sound of her heel impacting the floor and the way she twists her fingers against her palm.
Suddenly, a hand on her shoulder breaks her from her trance. "Ms. Raiden?"
"Yes?"
"I'm Dr. Swan, I called you in two minutes ago," the woman, Dr. Swan, says with a warm but understanding smile.
"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't hear you," Acheron apologizes, "and please, call me Acheron."
"Does that happen to you often, Acheron," Dr. Swan asks as she motions for Acheron to enter her office.
She turns away as she pulls the door to her office closed behind them. Satisfied with the audible click of the latch, Dr. Swan turns back fo look at her new patient. Her mouth opens to prompt Acheron to answer only for the words to die on her tongue as she finds Acheron sitting in her chair rather than either the couch or chair for patients.
"Doctor?" Acheron's head tilts to the side curiously.
"Ah, you haven't answered if getting lost in thought is a common occurrence for you," Dr. Swan says after shaking her head and sitting down in the high-armed chair typically reserved for patients.
"Hmm, I suppose it does," Acheron answers with a thoughtful hum.
So begins their first of many sessions. Dr. Swan finds herself drawn to Acheron, eager for their bi-weekly appointments yet disappointed every time they end. Over the following weeks she learns that Acheron can't recall much of her military service, likely repressing the horrors of combat so as to function day-to-day. Piecing all of this together only lures Dr. Swan in deeper, causes her to cross lines she knows she shouldn't as Acheron's therapist.
"Acheron," Dr. Swan greets with a sweet smile after opening her office door the second her receptionist notifies her of Acheron's arrival, "Please, come in."
"Oh- Uh, isn't my appointment still a few minutes out," Acheron wonders, albeit still standing and accepting Dr. Swan's invitation.
"You're right, but," Dr. Swan pauses until Acheron steps into the room and sees a fruit bowl stacked high with peaches, "I bought too many peaches to eat but not enough to do anything with so I brought them in and have been offering them to all my patients."
Acheron crosses the room and reaches out for one before thinking to ask, "may I?"
"Please do; I know peaches are your favorite fruit." Dr. Swan smiles warmly and gestures for her to take one. "I even have some paper bags for you to take some after our session."
"That's a very kind offer, Dr. Swan."
"It's nothing," Dr. Swan says dismissively, "we can begin your session whenever you're ready."
She conveniently forgets to start timing Acheron's session until the scheduled time, leading to the session running longer. Dr. Swan manages to keep detailed and helpful notes as she gazes wistfully at the handsome woman confiding in her. It's only after Acheron departs that she sags into the couch with her chest constricting from the brewing conflict between her professionalism and her heart.
Dr. Swan dramatically sweeps into Dr. Messenger's office, "I have a hypothetical for you."
"No, Blake, you shouldn't offer to do tarot readings for your patients," Dr. Messenger says, not looking up from their computer.
"Different hypothetical." Dr. Swan waves off Dr. Messenger's assumption. "Hypothetically; what would you do if you got a new patient who was exactly your type and she never exhibits any red flags?"
Dr. Messenger stops and the room fills with silence for a moment. "Please do not tell me this happened to you, there are so many ethical concerns with everything you just said."
"As I said, this is just a hypothetical and I want my friend and colleague's valued opinion on such a scenario," Dr. Swan says, attempting to assuage Dr. Messenger's concerns.
"You'd need to recuse yourself immediately," Dr. Messenger says plainly before holding up a finger when Swan opens her mouth to respond, "if you have feelings for a patient then you are unable to provide the objective care that they came to you for.”
"Right, of course. Thank you, Dr. Messenger," Dr. Swan says a little too quickly before walking out of Dr. Messenger's office and muttering to herself, "shit."
"Why the long face, Blake," sounds the perky, if occasionally troublesome, receptionist Sparkle.
"Nothing you need to bother yourself with, Sparkle," Blake says with a kind smile and dismissive wave.
"Hmm- Okay then," Sparkle says, frowning at least being waved off, "say, you like to dance; would you be interested in going with me to that new club that opened across town? We would make great dance partners."
"I'm sorry Sparkle but I've already got my eyes on a dance partner," Blake says, almost wistful as she imagines dancing with Acheron, held in her strong arms.
The end of the week arrives slower than Blake would like. Her normal relaxation routine of tea and a good book seems somewhat inadequate in the face of such a long week. Ironically, she feels the need to burn off energy instead of conserving it. The dream of dancing with Acheron resurfaces, influencing her decision to don her favorite cocktail dress and freshen up her makeup. Blake gives her reflection an approving nod; she looks stunning when she finally arrives at a popular ballroom club downtown. There's no shortage of compliments, offers to buy her drinks, and requests for dances from attractive and successful people, men and women alike, but she finds herself turning them all down.
Blake hears some shuffling behind her before an all-too-familiar voice says, "This- This doesn't look like a restaurant at all."
"Acheron," Blake wonders aloud as she turns around.
"Ah, Dr. Swan, hello," says Acheron, brows furrowing as she steeps deeper into her confusion, "I'm sorry but I seem to be lost."
"I can tell; what's this you were saying about a restaurant?" She steps closer to hear the tall veteran clearer over the music and bustle of the club around them.
"Well, I have a dinner reservation at La Rêverie," Acheron answers as she looks around the club.
"Oh dear, that's on the complete other side of the city," Blake says with a sigh.
She notices Acheron's growing distress and pulls her to a relatively quiet corner of the club, nudging her to sit down in a cushioned booth. Once Acheron has taken a seat she slides into the booth across from her.
"Just take a breath for me, okay," Blake says soothingly as she takes one of Acheron's hands into both of hers, "focus on breathing and tuning out the club for me."
Acheron does as told, breathing in and out slowly and steadily before finally speaking, "It's getting worse, isn't it? I swear, I barely made it to our last session because of how hard it is to just remember anything other than... I'm sorry, Dr. Swan, you look like you're here for a date. I should go.”
"No," Blake says just a little too quickly, "er- I mean, I'm not here for a date so making sure you'll be okay is my priority."
"You really don't have to," Acheron pleads, "I think I'll just call for a cab and go home?"
"How about this; I order one of these overpriced snack boards for you so you have something to eat, then you can decide from there?" Blake shows Acheron the very short menu card tucked against the wall.
Acheron acquiesces with a sigh and a ghost of a smile, "Let me buy you a drink then, it's the least I can do for interrupting your night out."
A waiter swings by their table after a few minutes, taking an order for a snack board and two cocktails. The two of them talk comfortably about nothing and everything while they wait. Blake thinks she catches Acheron's eyes wandering to the generous display of cleavage her dress provides more than once. Eventually the waiter returns with their snacks and drinks.
"Eugh- They gave me your drink by accident, this one is far too bitter and spicy to be mine," Blake recoils after taking a sip from the glass placed in front of her.
Acheron takes the cocktail and sips from it curiously. She finds it refreshing and tasty, letting out an approving sigh as she sets it down and begins looking over the snack board. Blake quietly watches Acheron pick over the board, observes how she moves with deliberation between the various fingerfoods. At one point the therapist attempts to turn down an offered cracker sandwich only for her resolve to crumble at the small pout that forms on Acheron's lips.
"Mm- Thank you," Blake mutters, covering her mouth as she chews.
"Of course, Dr. Swan." Acheron gives her a gentle smile that makes her heart clench.
Blake looks away in an attempt to hide the blush tinging her cheeks pink. The dance floor is alive with couples moving in sync to the music. It's then that she knows what she wants tonight, just for a moment. She waits for Acheron to finish eating before steeling herself by downing the rest of her cocktail.
Blake rises from the table and offers her hand as she asks, "Acheron, would you be so kind as to dance with me for one song?"
Acheron looks at the offered hand then to Dr. Swan. Warmth blooms in her chest as lights of the club frame Dr. Swan with an almost ethereal aura. It's then that she realizes how present she feels in the moment, how she doesn't feel like she's watching the world through a haze of repression just to survive. Any thought of turning down Dr. Swan is immediately discarded and instead she finds herself taking the offered hand.
She lets herself be lead to the dance floor before Dr. Swan turns and places a hand on her hip with the intent to lead their impending dance. Together they wait, Acheron holding her breath as the last song comes to an end. Silence falls over the club for only a moment then another song begins. Dr. Swan takes the first steps, a tango that matches the tempo of the music. Acheron can't help the smile forming on her lips as she's lead through the dance, spun and flung around the floor by the beautiful doctor.
Acheron can't, or rather refuses, to keep her eyes off Dr. Swan as they dance. She takes in the wistful smile, the barely-there sheen of sweat, every little detail of this beautiful creature that wanted to dance with her. When the music shifts, the band playing faster than Dr. Swan can lead her through, Acheron gets an idea.
"Let me take over, Doctor," she says with a low purr that causes Dr. Swan to miss a step.
Before Blake can even begin to respond, she is overwhelmed by the oppressive sensuality of Acheron's control as her lead is thoroughly usurped. Acheron spins her, dips her, lifts her with ease all in time with the music. Her heart pounds wildly in her chest while Acheron stares at her as if she's some feeble prey for a hungry predator. This woman who has her so completely under her control contrasts with the Acheron she's known from their sessions and it terrifies her. It terrifies Blake that she wants to be her prey, her play thing.
After what feels like an eternity, the dance finally comes to an end with one final dip as the music fades. Blake is left panting, breathless, and burning with desire. Acheron holds her in the dip with a statuesque stillness and their faces are mere inches apart. It would be so easy, Blake thinks, to lean up and capture Acheron's barely parted lips in a searing kiss.
"I need to leave," Blake says quickly as she rolls from Acheron's arms and scrambles away.
"Dr. Swan-" Acheron calls after her.
Blake flees from the club, from Acheron, despite the dull ache in her chest telling her to stay. The passions of the dance linger with her well into the night. Flashes of what could've been haunt her over the following days, wearing her down until she can't help but touch herself while idly fantasizing about her favorite patient.
Such fantasies range from the pure and sweet, of Acheron making love to her, to the filthy and desperate, of her pleading and begging for Acheron to break her. Everytime she finishes she's overcome with shame for wanting a woman she shouldn't and swallows her desires until the next time they become too much for her.
That is, until today; two weeks since that night at the club.
Everyone has left the office, all patients seen for their respective sessions. All except for one. One patient who had moved their schedule later into the evening.
She swallows thickly and opens the door to the waiting area. "I'm ready for you now, Acheron."
Acheron stands and moves past Blake into her office. She doesn't sit as the door clicks shut, preferring to stand and wait for the doctor to look at her.
"Please, have a seat and we can begin your session." Blake gestures towards her chair that Acheron always commandeers.
"I would prefer to remain standing while I say something," Acheron says with a stony expression that exacerbates Blake's nerves, "but you may sit if you wish."
"I- I'm fine. I'll stand while you stand."
"Very well," Acheron hums before straightening her back, "I've been reflecting on that night at the club."
"Oh." Blake wrings her hands together behind her back.
"I- Dr. Swan, I know this perhaps crosses some ethical lines but I've come to realize I feel more for you than I know how to put into words," Acheron begins, Blake's eyes widen, "since that night I've come to realize that being in your presence has a way of grounding me back to reality in a way I've not felt since before my service.”
Blake takes a deep breath and pinches herself before asking, "what exactly are you trying to tell me Acheron?"
"I'm saying I want you," Acheron says simply and directly, "I want to dance with you like that again, I want to experience the world again by your side, I want you."
"You shouldn't, I- I've betrayed your trust as your therapist," Blake says as she looks away in shame, "you came here for a professional who listens and helps you through whatever affects your mental health but I've crossed lines I shouldn't have and I've let my desires guide me too often with you."
"I don't think you have." Acheron steps closer.
Blake is quiet, barely above a whisper as she says, "you wouldn't say that if you knew about the fantasies I've entertained."
Acheron takes another step closer. "Tell me about them."
Blake looks up and finds Acheron staring at her with what she can only describe as a ravenous hunger. Her core clenches and she knows she's been caught. Fighting against herself, denying herself what she wants from the woman in front of her is a losing battle.
"Most of them begin the same, follow the same paths," Blake says after swallowing her nerves, "my favorites are the ones where you use me and take care of me afterwards."
"It's a relief to hear I'm not the only one thinking of such things." Acheron closes the distance and brushes a loose strand of hair behind Blake's ear. "I haven't felt lust this all-encompassing in so long, yet you're the one who made me feel it again just as you've anchored me back to reality."
Blake smiles coyly. "Oh, and how do you want me to sate this all-encompassing lust? On my knees for you perhaps? Would you like to feel my mouth around your cock? Or what about my breasts, oh I bet you'd be right at home between them."
"I want to lay you over your desk and breed you," Acheron answers with a sultry purr, "though I wouldn't be opposed to your suggestions in the future."
"Oh," Blake gasps, extremely aware of how uncomfortably wet her panties have become.
"Uh- The act, not necessarily the end goal... yet," Acheron stammers out, charmingly bashful compared to the confidence she'd just exuded.
"Fuck," Blake hisses before hesitantly reaching out to touch Acheron's stomach above the hem of her pants.
Acheron, seeing Blake's hesitation, grabs her wrist and presses close. With their bodies pressed together Blake feels the beginnings of Acheron's arousal hardening against her. Acheron grins smugly as she backs Blake towards her desk, practically drinking up the doctor's desperate, needy gasps for her.
"Are you still okay with this? You understand what I'm going to do if you are?" Acheron's fingers glide along the hem of Blake's skirt.
"Don't you dare stop," Blake all but growls against Acheron's lips before kissing her.
Slender fingers slide beneath Blake's skirt, ghosting over the tender expanse of her thighs. Briefly, those fingers press against her aching clit through her underwear. She pleads through a heady moan until Acheron hooks her fingers into her waistband and swiftly tugs her underwear down, exposing her sensitive and wet folds to the chilly air of her office.
Distantly, through the incredibly distracting sensation of Acheron's lips on her neck, Blake hears a zipper and the hurried rustling of fabric. Suddenly something thick, much thicker and much heftier than anything she had anticipated in her fantasies, slaps her clit. She finds herself at a loss for words as she looks down and realizes the monster she's awakened.
"Dr. Swan?" Acheron's voice pulls her attention back. "You froze. Do you need me to stop?"
"No," Blake answers quickly, blushing, "no, I- I am more than fine, I just didn't expect, well, that. And please, call me Blake, dear."
"Blake," Acheron says her name experimentally while her cock pulses against Blake's clit.
Blake hooks her ankles together behind Acheron. "I'm ready, I want you.”
Acheron acknowledges her with a grunt before aiming the tip of her cock and pressing it to her entrance. Her lips petal out around the frankly gargantuan head. Slowly, gasping the whole way, Blake feels how she's spread apart. If she weren't so turned on, she thinks, she'd find the stretch significantly less enjoyable. Soon after, while clutching Acheron's shirt in a white-knuckled grip, she feels the entirety of the tip slide into her.
"Ffuck," Blake gasps out, "Aeons, you've got a monster cock."
Instead of words, Acheron responds by popping her blouse open and trailing kisses down her neck and across the tops of her breasts. Acheron's hips begin to move slowly, gently, so as to give Blake ample time to adjust to the sheer size of her length. Blake can't help but clench and whimper as Acheron bites her, no doubt leaving a mark on her chest.
"H-harder," Blake pleads, head swimming from how the tip of Acheron's cock grazes several particularly sensitive spots in quick succession.
Her request is granted as Acheron begins to pump her hips faster. Acheron's thrusts are quick and shallow, burying her impressive girth ever so slightly deeper with each passing second. Soon enough Blake feels an almost uncomfortable push through the complete and utter fullness. She looks down and watches how Acheron's cock splits her lower lips apart, feeling heart racing thrills of that terrifying girth stretching the walls of her cunt and putting pressure against her cervix. It's only when Acheron attempts to bottom out inside her that she realizes what's causing the growing discomfort, she can't take Acheron any deeper for she's too long and too thick to fit the entirety of her shaft within the velvety depths of Blake's cunt.
While placing a hand on Acheron's stomach, Blake groans out, "I'm not sure I can take any more of you, dear."
Acheron nuzzles her between Blake's breasts and whines. Blake coos sweetly at her between pleased gasps, carding her fingers through Acheron's hair. Even the smallest movement lights up Blake's nerves and makes her clench around that monstrous length. Or at least attempt to clench. It's difficult, stretched as wide as she is, but it's also involuntary, so much is the pleasure.
"So tight," Acheron grunts as she begins to pull her hips back.
"Fuuuuuck," Blake whines, loud and unbidden.
Acheron sheaths as much of her shaft back into the depths of Blake's pussy with a filthy, wet squelch. The air is knocked from Blake's lungs when Acheron stops her plunge just on the cusp of discomfort. Her heels dig into Acheron's legs and she gathers fistfuls of the other woman's shirt in a white-knuckled grip.
"Acheronnn," Blake grits out as she's wracked by a climax that washes over her in waves.
Acheron, continuing to pump her hips back and forth, mutters, "that's it, just keep holding onto me."
Blake soars to new heights as Acheron continues to fuck her through her orgasm. The room fills with the sounds of her wanton moans, the wet squelch of Acheron's cock sliding through her folds, and the steady creak of her desk. It isn't long before she's brought to her peak again, shuddering against the other woman as core practically milks the shaft inside her with involuntary spasms.
"Blake- Fuck," Acheron says, muffling herself between Blake's breasts.
The warmth around her cock becomes too much. Her balls tighten to her body as her length begins to pulse within the tight velvety grip of Blake's cunt. Then she feels it, the hot rush of cum erupting from the tip of her shaft in hearty gouts.
"Yes," Blake cries out, "cum for me Dear, cum inside me!"
Blake clings to Acheron while her cunt is flooded with seed. With nowhere else to go, Acheron's cum begins to ooze and erupt through the taut seal of Blake's pussy stretched around Acheron's cock. Eventually they come down from their respective peaks, breathless and unwilling to pull apart.
After several minutes of catching her breath and combing her fingers through Acheron's hair, Blake says, "we have got to find you a new therapist.”
It's been several years since that night. They began seeing each other in earnest after finding Acheron a new therapist, falling deeply in love far quicker than either believed possible. Their passions culminated in Acheron proposing before their first anniversary.
Now, Blake sits at her desk, reminiscing over her relationship with a fond smile and wistful gaze directed at the ring on her finger instead of reading her notes. She idly moves her other hand to rest on the significant swell of her belly. This has been the most recent development in her relationship with Acheron, a life growing within her, a life both of them cannot wait to meet and cherish.