Fix You

Jane's hand paused less than an inch away from the door to Doctor Bishop's office. She didn't know why. She didn't feel ashamed about seeing a therapist; mental health was just like physical health, something to be maintained and treated. When something wasn't feeling right, the first thing you did was see a professional. It all made perfect sense, but something was keeping her from knocking.

Maybe they could discuss that as part of the session, she decided, overruling her body's temporary reticence and rapping gently on the frosted glass. She waited for Doctor Bishop's warm, familiar voice to say, "Come in," before entering.

He greeted her with a delighted smile, as always. "Jane!" he said. "So nice to see you again. I was just finishing up a little paperwork." He closed his laptop and fixed his complete focus on her. Which wasn't unusual, but...normally, Jane enjoyed being the center of Doctor Bishop's attention, but today it felt oddly intimidating. She found herself wanting to hide behind something, or slip back out the door and tiptoe away down the hallway. More of that same anxiety that she was here to discuss, probably.

"So what can I do for you?" he asked, breaking into her train of thought. "We don't have a session scheduled, but I've got a little free time at the moment if you need to talk."

Jane shifted nervously. "I, I mean, it's probably nothing, but I just figured...I mean, if you don't mind working on a Saturday, I just..." She took a deep breath, trying to center her thoughts. "I just don't feel right, you know? Like the world doesn't make sense to me anymore. I thought maybe you could fix me up."

Doctor Bishop chuckled, gesturing to the recliner by his desk. "Now, Jane, we've talked about this." His voice felt so calming that Jane almost forgot she'd ever had any anxiety at all. "These sessions aren't about trying to 'fix you', they're about finding ways to shake off negative patterns of thought and behavior and steer you towards positive ones. Nobody who walks through my door is 'broken'," he said, gesturing to the door opposite the one Jane entered through, "they just need a little help finding their best self. That's what you want, isn't it?"

Jane didn't answer for a moment. She was busy staring at the door Doctor Bishop had just pointed to. Probably out of reflex-that was the door all his clients came through, normally. Jane half-turned to look at the door behind her, a momentary sense of disorientation passing through her like she was on the wrong side of a mirror. She didn't use the door he'd pointed to. She used the other door. She always used the other door. Why did she-

"Jane," Doctor Bishop said gently, his voice cutting through the confusion. "That is what you want, isn't it?" he repeated.

Jane blinked rapidly, shoving away her brief mental conflict. "I want to be my best self," she said, bolstering the self-affirmation with a forced smile. Usually, the smile wasn't forced at all-repeating her self-affirmations always gave her a sense of peace and inner tranquility that made her worries seem small and insignificant. But today, they weren't doing the trick. She was just glad Doctor Bishop wasn't too busy to fit her in.

"That's my girl," Doctor Bishop said. "Now, why don't you lie down on the couch and we'll talk about what's troubling you?" He gestured again to the recliner, and this time Jane followed the implicit suggestion.

"That's better," he said, as she made herself comfortable. He got up and adjusted the overhead lamp so that it was pointed at her face. "So what setting do you want to start with? You seem pretty agitated, I was thinking maybe a four, but we could go as high as six if you think you need it."

Jane stared up at the lamp, her tongue suddenly feeling thick and clumsy in her mouth. She knew about the lamp, of course, because Doctor Bishop used it in every session and it always helped break up those negative thought patterns before they could even form, but for some reason today the lamp seemed oddly menacing. It felt like it was staring back at her. She struggled to talk, and eventually managed to stammer out, "Could we, um...not? Today, I mean? With the, you know..." She waved her hand feebly at the lamp. "I don't know why, I just...don't want to."

Doctor Bishop gave her another warm smile. "Of course you don't have to, Jane. You know that you're always free to do whatever you want to do." He pressed a button, and the lamp's bulb flared briefly into warm, bright light before immediately dimming again. "I'll just leave this set on three, in case you change your mind, and you don't have to look at it if you don't want to."

Jane tensed involuntarily. She knew that Doctor Bishop was right-she didn't have to look at the light if she didn't want to, she never had to do anything she didn't want to. But she had a hard time ignoring it. It was just right there in front of her, drawing her eyes to it in a weirdly unavoidable way, and she felt like she would be much more comfortable if he would just-

The light pulsed. Jane blinked to clear away the spots, her train of thought momentarily disrupted by the distraction. "Um, okay," she said, trying to get back on track. "Three is fine." It really was fine, she told herself. She could always look away if she needed to. She never had to do anything she didn't want to.

"So, Jane," Doctor Bishop said, returning to his chair, "what seems to be the problem today? You said you felt like the world didn't make sense. You haven't been watching those telenovelas again, have you?"

Jane laughed along with him, feeling her body unwind from the inexplicable tension it was holding. "No, doc," she said. "I just...I was doing some housework, and suddenly everything felt...wrong. Absurd, you know? Like I didn't belong in my body." She paused, her brow furrowed. "No, not even that. Like I belonged, but nothing else did. It was as if I was an actress, and I'd been so caught up in the role that I forgot it was just a part until someone said-"

The light strobed again, piercing her mind with a wave of pure, bright white. It took Jane a few seconds to remember what she was saying. "I know it sounds silly," she went on, "but everything just seemed so unfamiliar, all of a sudden. Like the house wasn't even mine. I just kept staring at the feather duster, wondering why it was even in my hand. Does any of this make sense, doc?"

She glanced over at him, but then the light pulsed again, catching her out of the corner of her eye and drawing her attention, and she found herself staring at it all over again as he spoke. "I think this may be part of your ongoing problem with focus, Jane. Sometimes when we aren't focusing on the things that are important to us, the things that make us our best self, it's very easy to feel uncertain about anything and everything."

Jane frowned. "But I wasn't feeling uncertain, that was the weird thing. I was feeling very sure that everything was all messed up. Like, I was looking down at my clothes-" She almost looked down at her outfit again, but just then the light pulsed and it took her a moment to remember what she was saying. "And they looked wrong on me. I don't know why, but they did."

"Well, you were cleaning, weren't you, Jane?" Doctor Bishop said calmly.

"I-yes, but-" Jane started to explain that cleaning didn't feel right either, but just then the light flashed again and she lost a moment trying to clear the spots out of her eyes.

Doctor Bishop didn't let the pause go to waste. "And you're dressed for cleaning, Jane. That's important. That's therapeutic. When your environment reinforces your role, you have an easier time staying focused. We agreed that this would be an excellent tool to assist you with those focus issues and help you be your best self, don't you remember?"

Jane narrowed her eyes, trying to think back. She didn't really remember her previous sessions with Doctor Bishop as well as she liked to admit-she always remembered coming in and lying on the recliner perfectly well, and she recalled him saying something about focus and distraction, but everything else always seemed to disappear in a-

The strobe flashed. Jane's eyes widened in surprise. "I want to be my best self," she said, falling back on her self-affirmations. It was always easy to remember those, like they were ingrained into the very core of her memory. "But...the outfit, it seemed..." Jane almost felt ashamed, arguing with Doctor Bishop when he was working so hard to help her stay focused, but she couldn't seem to let those lingering worries go.

She looked down at her clothing again, trying to put her feelings into words. The heels didn't seem practical at all for cleaning-they were so high that she could barely walk in them. The fishnet stockings, while they did highlight her legs, made it difficult to crouch or kneel in without worrying about a rip. And the apron on the little black dress showed every smudge and smear...to say nothing about the way that the dress itself made it impossible to bend over without flashing her panties at everyone. (Perhaps that was why she'd decided not to wear them?) It didn't seem like she could get any real cleaning done in this at all.

"It felt like a costume," Jane said, almost blissful at getting a complete thought together. "Like I was-"

The light flashed. Jane's eyes flickered back up to it, the thought in her head popping like a soap bubble. "Like you were a maid," Doctor Bishop said, inserting words seamlessly into the momentary void. "That's exactly the idea, Jane. You dress like a maid to feel like a maid, you feel like a maid when you clean, and you clean because you feel better when you're being useful. Don't you remember?"

The word 'remember' triggered another struggle in Jane's mind. She remembered Doctor Bishop saying something about remembering, about something she would always remember and always remember to forget, but Jane couldn't remember what it was that she was supposed to forget to remember and she was already forgetting what it was that she was supposed to remember to forget. It was something about the flashes, something about focus and distraction, but every time she tried to think about it she felt her mind sliding off it until something distracted her and-

The light flashed again. "I feel better when I'm being useful," Jane said, her frown fading away into a vague smile as she let herself repeat another self-affirmation. It always felt so good to repeat her self-affirmations. Jane felt like she could lie here and say them over and over again for hours. "I remember now, Doctor Bishop."

"Excellent," he said. "Now, I want you to go back into that moment, the moment where everything felt wrong to you. Let's talk about those other irrational worries you had. What were they?"

Jane stared up into the light. It flashed again, but Doctor Bishop's request helped keep her focused. "I remember thinking that none of what I was doing made sense," she said, finally hearing that blessed peace and calm in her voice as she spoke. "It didn't seem normal."

Doctor Bishop's tone was understanding as he said, "Were you masturbating again, Jane?"

"Uh-huh." Jane squirmed slightly in her seat, feeling a damp patch on her skirt as she felt a wave of heat pass through her body all over again at the memory. "I was dusting with one hand and my other hand was under my skirt rubbing my clitty, and suddenly it just seemed so...weird. To be doing that."

"I'm glad you could come to me with this, Jane," Doctor Bishop said as the light flashed once again. "So many women would be ashamed to discuss their sexuality, but you feel very comfortable talking about it with me, don't you?"

Jane nodded. "Uh-huh," she said again, feeling her hips start to shift back and forth almost of their own volition. "I'm...um, comfortable..."

"Because sexuality is perfectly natural," Doctor Bishop said, his words punctuated with another pulse of light across Jane's eyeballs. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's a very normal thing. You may have moments when it doesn't feel that way, but that's just a negative thought pattern we need to break up. Go ahead and masturbate for me now, Jane, and feel just how positive and normal that is for you."

"I..." Jane's hand twitched, eager to follow Doctor Bishop's instructions, but Jane didn't want to go along with it just yet. She felt like she was missing something, something she had seen in that strange and irrational moment in the hallway and had lost because-

The light flashed again. "Um..." Jane felt the bubble of thought pop once more, the light breaking it up like a shockwave passing through her mind. "Is this...this doesn't feel like three," she muttered in confusion as the pulsing light strobed again. "I don't-" The light flashed again. "Are, are you...?" The light flashed again. Jane's hand slid down between her legs without her even realizing it.

"What's...?" The light flashed again. Every time, in that instant of thoughtlessness, Jane remembered and forgot all over again what she was supposed to remember and remember to forget. The light broke apart her negative thoughts. Thoughts that disagreed with Doctor Bishop were always negative thoughts. When she stared into the light, she would let herself be distracted from her negative thoughts and focused on her positive thoughts.

Jane spread her legs, hooking them on either side of the recliner and pushing her fingers slowly and steadily in and out of her pussy. Her free hand hooked into the maid costume's plunging neckline, tugging it down to allow her heavy breasts to slide out so that she could run her fingers over her nipples.

The whole time, the light kept flashing. Each time pulsing away her negative thoughts, each pulse allowing her to refocus on positive thoughts of obedience and service. She felt better when she was useful. Being sexual was perfectly natural. She wanted to be her best self.

"That's right, Jane," Doctor Bishop said. She didn't even realize she was saying anything out loud until she heard him respond. It just felt so good to settle into the patterns of positive thought and behavior he laid out for her. She was so grateful he was helping her become her best self. That was why she lived here with him, so that he could help her whenever she became confused and lapsed into negative thoughts and actions. She could always come into his office and ask for help in becoming her best self, her useful self, her sexual self again.

The light kept flashing, strobe after strobe after pulsing strobe breaking up all those negative thoughts and memories as Jane fingered herself faster and faster. She cupped her breast with her free hand, moving from one to the other as she squeezed and fondled her tits. The pleasure echoed through her body, helping Jane let go of the memories of coming here through the office door, back before she became Doctor Bishop's maid. She let go of the memories of the other sessions. She let go of the memories of her life before she became useful. The light crumbled them all away, until only obedience and arousal remained.

"That's my good girl," Doctor Bishop said, and Jane felt her pussy clench around her fingers as she came. Once she started, she couldn't stop; the orgasms came one after another, bursting like fireworks inside her mind, flashes of bright white light that pulsed through her body and left her moaning endlessly with obedient bliss. Her nipples stiffened under her fingertips as she squeezed and pinched them, helpless to stop. Helpless to resist. Helpless. She just kept cumming and cumming and cumming until the ecstasy washed away everything but her obedience. Her best self.

"...always want...to be..." Jane whimpered, woozy with endorphins. "...best self..." The light kept flashing, and she stared sightlessly into its depths.

"There we go!" Doctor Bishop said, standing up. Jane found herself openly salivating at the sight of a thick bulge in his slacks. "See? You didn't have a thing to worry about, not as long as I'm here to help you. Now, you look a bit sweaty. Why don't we get you out of those sticky things and into a nice warm shower?"

The light flashed again, and Jane saw in her mind's eye Doctor Bishop pushing her up against the shower stall, fucking her roughly from behind as her wet tits pressed against the glass, moaning out, "Yes Master," as she ground her cunt up against his hard cock and came all over again for him...

She felt herself drift to her feet, her body once again remembering how to walk in the high heels she wore. "Thank you, Doctor," she heard herself say, her voice once again sedate and peaceful. "I always feel so much better after our sessions." She took his hand and allowed herself to be guided out of the room.

THE END