Erica goes to see a therapist for stress at work, but ends up getting sent to a facility called ‘the Farm,’ where she learns all about her new role in life as Simon Wagner’s obedient trophy wife and puppy. [Warning: this 12,300-word short story contains graphic scenes of brainwashing, group sex and nude puppy girls on display for purchase.]
Excerpt: Click-clack-click-clack. “Erica?†Dr. Coleman asked, “Still with me?†He reached out and stopped his Newton’s cradle, then returned to his clipboard. I blinked rapidly, then straightened up on his couch. I realized I’d been dozing while staring at his Newton’s cradle. Whatever I’d been dreaming about, it had been good: my panties were soaked. Normally, that sort of thing would’ve embarrassed me, but somehow it felt fine. I didn’t blush. Instead, I just stretched and said, “Mm. Sorry, doc. First rest I’ve had all week.†“That’s all right,†he replied, “But we should definitely talk about your problems while we still have time.†I glanced at the old fashioned clock on his wall and saw that it was about ten ‘til six, when our appointment was over and his office closed. I’d spent most of the hour napping. I frowned and asked, “Don’t suppose we could go into overtime?†“That depends,†Dr. Coleman answered, “On what’s wrong.†“Well…†I trailed off. The words didn’t want to come out. “We don’t have much time left, Erica,†Dr. Coleman raised an eyebrow and said firmly, “So tell me about it now.†I felt a tingle at him ordering me around and blurted out, “I can’t get off.†I clapped a hand over my mouth and blushed hard. Dr. Coleman set his clipboard aside and said, “Relax. Arms at your sides. Take a deep breath.†My arms felt leaden. I let them slip to my sides again and took a deep breath, staring at my therapist in surprise. I stammered, “Um. I’m sorry.†“Why?†the doctor rose, and I saw that the front of his nice gray slacks were tented with arousal. I’d turned him on. I stammered, “Uh… well…†He stepped to his desk, tapped the intercom and said, “Elizabeth, I’m going to be staying with Erica after hours. You may go home for the night. Lock up behind you.†His receptionist replied, voice tinny over the intercom, “Yes, sir.†Dr. Coleman opened a desk drawer and reached in, producing a single blue nitrile glove. He snapped it on his right hand and asked, “Do you know who invented the vibrator, and why?â€