Tiffany, a petite elfin girl leaned forward, lavender eyes intent and golden hair flowing forward. Her pointed ears were almost invisible beneath the mass of hair. “He never brings anyone home from work,” she said in a high-pitched, silver bell of a voice. “He called me a freak and I don’t think he likes my breasts. The office was all dark panelling and dim lighting with a faint musky order emanating from the cave-like dark opening to another room.
The couple’s counsel the two had chosen was muscular and densely furred with debauched, red eyes and sharp teeth that emerged from his upper lip. He tried not to obviously leer at the beautiful former princess as he nodded in response to her statement. Then he looked over at his other client, Commander of the Dark Horde, Sourfang, Thigh-Snapper of the Blood Clan who currently leaned as far back as he could in the overstuff couch, which sank under his weight like a ten-year old mattress under the weight of two enthusiastic teenagers. His arms were crossed and his dark expression said he’d rather be anywhere but in this office.
The couple’s counsellor held up a hand gently and smiled over at the former elfin princess. “We’re in no hurry here. Let Sourfang speak.”
Tiffany nodded. She was eager for this process to work.
Sourfang glanced at the corner where his chipped and slightly bent, but still functional two-headed axe leaned against a wall against his shield. Dried blood caked the blade. God, he’d love to be out on the battle field right now. A low rumbling growl sounded deep in his chest as he summoned up the words to speak. “I was being nice. She knows if I had the guys over, she’d be cleaning blood of the walls for weeks. Not to mention the bones, the bodies. The sheer volume of gore. We fucking fight all night and when we get off work, we’re not polite.” He stared over at her. “And I like her tits. She’s …, fuck, I chose her from all the other elfin princesses.” He turned back to the counselor. “Look Dr. Wulf, she’s the one I wanted. Why would I think she has small tits.”
Tiffany tried not to roll her eyes. Dr. Wulf nodded. “Please, call me B.B., this is informal and we’re working together to make your relationship with your enslaved elven princess good for both of you.” Turning back to Tiffany, he asked. “How do you feel about what Sourfang is telling you?”
“It’s an excuse. He’s ashamed of me. My sister’s master chained her to the center of the room and all of her master’s sub-commanders ejaculated on her and then had her cook them dinner while covered in green-tined orc semen. I thought I was going to be with a bad-boy, not “Mr. Come-Home-Eat-Belch-Fuck-Me-Missionary Style-and Go to Bed. “She flipped her hair back and continued. “And my tits? They’re not pierced, slapped around, bruised. He doesn’t twist my nipples. He’s never even motorboated me.” Her eyes brightened. “I could show you.”
Dr. Wulf’s eyes widened and he leaned forward. Then he glanced over at the Dark Commander. “Hmm,” he said. “What about him calling you a freak?”
At this point, Sourfang interrupted. “I never said that.”
Tiffany’s pretty smile twisted. “I showed him this beautiful leather bitch suit. I said some girls would get put in a suit like this and punished, unable to see or speak. He said there are all kinds of freaks in this world. He meant me. I know he did. It so obvious.”
“I didn’t mean her. I wasn’t really listening. I was tired. We’d hacked forty-thousand dwarves into small pieces that day. I’m sorry.” Her stared over at his slave Tiffany helpless. “I like your breasts. I do. And I’ve motorboated you. Last Christmas.”
She tugged at a lock of her hair and looked almost shy. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Dr. Wulf smiled. Saliva dripped off his left fang. “I think we’re making a little progress here. Why don’t I suggest a little role play that might help you both understand each other? The two of you can go a bit outside each other’s comfort zone.”
Tiffany pulled her feet up and curled into the chair. “I’m willing.”
“Well, I was thinking that I have an orc sized bitch suit. What if Sourfang got into it and then he could grow comfortable with the idea of doing something like this with you Tiffany.”
A look flashed between Tiffany and B.B., a look that had a certain something hot and sensual flickering between the two.”
Sourfang sat up and a primeval growl emerged deep in his throat. “I fucking saw that look between you two. You plan to trap me in a bitch suit and your lover boy will probably shove his cock down my throat.” His muscular thighs tensed and he began to rise.
Dr. Wulf laughed smoothly and said, “Okay, I see we have trust issues too. We can work on those next session, but let me ask you a question Dark Commander.
Sourfang didn’t exactly relax, but his massive, muscled ass sank back into the overstuff couch. “What?”
“If you believe Tiffany truly conspired with me against you, shouldn’t she be punished?”
Tiffany sat up in sudden excitement and hugged herself.
Sourfang slowly nodded. “Yeah.”
Dr. Wulf, aka B.B., relaxed slightly. “If it’s punishment, she can’t enjoy it. You’ll need to push past her *and your* normal boundaries. It’s what she deserves if what you think is true. Isn’t it?”
Sourfang nodded. “Yeah.”
Dr. Wulf glanced over at Tiffany. “Are you willing to accept that Sourfang has the right to punish you.”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes.”
Dr. Wulf nodded over at Sourfang. “I think we’ve covered what we can this session. Dark Commander, I want you to take your slave home and punish her severely. Next week, we’ll talk about how that made both of you feel.”
Minutes later, as they made their way downstairs, Tiffany leaned against her orcish enslaver and smiled up at him.
He looked down with a twisted, almost swinish grin. “You are so getting it when we get home.”
She giggled and whispered. “Must we wait until we get home?”
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6hvxt5/first_session_with_the_couples_counselor_fantasy
I really enjoyed reading this. Very well written in a dirty Pixar sort of way.