Pierre. Primula Bond

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СКАЧАТЬ it. None of us has ever witnessed the therapy because she insists it has to be conducted in private, one to one. And I can see why, now. She’s been putting her special technique to good use in their private sessions. Sex and hypnosis. What an explosive combination. But for whom? Who benefits? Hypnotist or hypnotised?

      How real is the sex in those conditions? And actually, why resort to hypnosis when I made him hard just by holding him?

      Dr Venska stands in front of Pierre Levi. Her white blouse drops to the floor. She reaches behind her back to unclip her lacy bra. She slides it away from her breasts and tosses it towards him. His hand lifts and catches it easily, like a cricket ball.

      He doesn’t seem remotely surprised.

      No wonder she never has any notes to write up afterwards.

      I glance around the garden. There are a few patients and staff on the other side of the big beech tree, and there’s the glass corridor that encircles the rest of the garden like a horseshoe and serves both to let light in and to keep an eye on what’s going on outside, but there’s no one on this side of the tree.

      No one else to see what’s going on in room 202.

      My sweaty fingers make prints on the cardboard. I can’t tear my eyes away. Dr Venska sits on the bed, perfectly visible from the window, and faces him. Her breasts are high and pert, and I can clearly see the dark red darts of her nipples. She lifts her hands and starts to massage her breasts, pushing them together, licking one finger and rubbing each nipple to make them harder. She’s talking, talking, all the time, in a low voice I can’t quite catch.

      I pluck the pen from my breast pocket and dash off my own observations for today’s date.

      ‘Responsive today. Extremely responsive. See sex therapy. Hypnosis. Recommend introduction of hallucinogenics and stimulants.’

      I stand up with the file, turn to tiptoe away.

      Venska is still whispering. Pierre is not replying. Either he’s deep in a trance or he’s getting aroused, lost for words.

      No wonder the door was locked.

      Venska is leaning back and now she’s undoing her skirt. It falls open easily, and she parts her legs. I can see the white flesh sticking slightly before her thighs part. She hooks one finger into the little lace thong and pulls it aside. There’s a glimpse of blue-white pussy. Bare. Totally waxed.

      I feel a punch of nausea. I step away, and notice too late that one more blank sheet is on the ground. I pick it up and, as I straighten, something – the whiteness of the paper, my movement – finally catches Dr Venska’s eye.

      ‘You! How long have you been hanging around out there?’

      Her voice is a whiplash, screaming out of the room.

      ‘I was just coming to give you this!’ Thank God for the folder, my prop. I lift it, and wave the stray piece of paper. ‘The door was locked.’

      She swears loudly, leans down to pick up her blouse from the floor and shoves her arms into it, buttons up her skirt, kicks her shoes back on.

      ‘Did it not occur to you that it was locked for a reason?’

      ‘The rules state that doors should never be locked, in case of emergency. Staff should always be able to get in –’

      ‘I am staff, you imbecile. And you? You were creeping around!’ She snaps, turning her back on Pierre and marching towards me. ‘You were spying on a confidential therapy session!’

      ‘It’s only spying when something nefarious is going on,’ Pierre says suddenly, his voice carrying across the room. ‘Who’s out there, anyway?’

      ‘The little cleaner. The drab one in the hideous uniform. The one you described as, now what was it? A hot piece of Italian ass when she comes out of her shell?’

      ‘He said what?’ I gasp, my cheeks burning.

      ‘Rosa?’ Pierre calls out. ‘Is that you?’

      I step towards the door, but Dr Venska is still blocking my way. She scowls at me, at the new uniform that Nurse Jeannie gave me this morning. No longer so hideous, thank God.

      ‘Oh, don’t think you’re unique. He’d say that about anyone. Anything with a pussy and a pulse will do. All it proves is that my treatment is working.’

      ‘You mean I’m returning to my super-stud ways?’ snorts Pierre, but there’s an edge to his amusement, I can tell. ‘I can start chasing girls again? Oh, wait. I can’t walk.’

      ‘Oh, you’ll walk again, unfortunately for the female sex. And then it’ll be business as usual. You have me to thank for that, Mr Levi.’

      ‘Actually, it’s not you I wish to thank –’

      ‘You were broken when you came into this clinic. Head and heart. I brought you back. I showed you how to be a man again.’

      ‘What do you want, a round of applause?’ Pierre’s voice is dark. ‘It’s what you’re paid to do.’

      Dr Venska takes my arm and pulls me into the room, over to the bed.

      ‘But I’m not paid to do the menial tasks.’ She shoves a bowl of soaps and gels into my hands. ‘I thought it would help. You know, water, bubbles, a bit of role play. But no, he won’t be touched.’

      ‘I could have told you that,’ I murmur, taking the equipment, avoiding Pierre’s eye. ‘It makes him feel degraded.’

      ‘Check you out in your bright white uniform, Cavalieri. Nicely tailored, sky-blue piping, the halo logo of the clinic right there on the pocket.’ Pierre whistles. ‘Cute little buttons instead of that rusty old zip.’

      I blush. Run my hands down the softer fabric in an echo of what Dr Venska was doing to herself earlier.

      ‘It’s my reward for completing my probationary period.’

      He nods. ‘And it makes you feminine rather than frumpy. Fits you like a glove.’

      ‘And talking of gloves,’ snaps Dr Venska, ‘he’s all yours. I’m done here.’

      She rips a pair of latex gloves out of the packet and throws them at me.

      ‘Don’t you need this, doctor?’ I ask, holding out the folder. ‘For today’s session?’

      Pierre sniggers. I risk glancing at him. His black eyes are dancing at me. He’s biting his lips hard to stop laughing. Dr Venska snatches the paperwork, unlocks the door and shoves her way past Nurse Jeannie, who steps inside the room, tutting.

      ‘What on earth is going on? What have you two done to Dr Venska?’

      Pierre and I shrug at each other like naughty schoolkids.

      ‘Rosa was simply delivering some notes. Dr Venska is unhappy because I’m not responding as she would like to her suggested therapies,’ Pierre says after a moment, his face straight, his voice calm. ‘I think the legal term for someone like me СКАЧАТЬ