The Corrective Action Therapist - Vol 1 by Richard Stryker


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The Corrective Action Therapist - Vol 1

Richard Stryker


Product Type: EBook
Price:  $3.45
Published by: Fiction4All
No. words: 20000
Categories: Moderate BDSM       Bondage/BDSM Anthologies      Male Dom - M/F
Published 02 / 2005
 

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SYNOPSIS

This book contains the first three parts of Richard Stryker`s diaries of Greg Dawson - and they are jam-packed with action of a hard and nasty kind.

For those not familiar with Dawson, he is the self-styled Corrective Action Therapist - and women who visit him end up as reformed characters.

In volume 1 we bring you "Selena`s Stretching", "Tania`s Thrashing" and "Kelly`s Training".

These stories may be short but they contain an awful lot of action, punishment and of course - sex!

Definitely not for the faint-hearted!

EXTRACT

“Good evening, Kelly, won’t you come in.” Dawson, compared to Kelly, was tall and strong. In his younger days he would have been described as being of an athletic build but now, in his mid life, the muscles were showing signs of wear and tear from the time Dawson spent in his local pub. Polite enough, Kelly thought. The man was about forty five, she figured, making him twenty years her senior. He was still smiling as he closed the door. “Err, Mr Dawson,” Kelly began when she had been ushered into what was evidently the living room, “what exactly is a corrective action therapist?” “Oh, quite simply, I aim to correct your bad habits by teaching you a lesson you will not forget. In your case I have instructions from your husband on what he requires and I am happy to say you will leave here in just a few hours a reformed character. Now, please sit down.” Kelly did as she was instructed. “Tell me, Kelly, your money worries – are they eating away at you?” “Yes.” “I thought so from what your husband said on the phone. Now, we need to be quite sure that you wish to do something about them. You do, don’t you?” “Yes, Mr Dawson, I do.” “I see, so how do you think I will help you?” “Well, my husband thinks I need some kind of training – something that will make me think before I spend any more money. Something that I will look back on and remember as a warning of what will happen if I let things get out of control again.” “I see. And do you agree with your husband?” “Yes, it kind of makes sense, though I don’t know exactly what kind of training would make me think twice in the future.” “Oh, Kelly, you will soon understand, believe me. Now, Darren has asked me to introduce you to a device I use to make people like you reflect on things when they have sudden impulses in the future. I call it my therapy table, because that is what it does – it trains you to think twice. I understand your husband has told you a bit about what I have in mind for this evening.” “Yes he has. I have to say I doubt it will work and I doubt in the space of a few hours you will change me, but I have to go ahead with this or Darren will leave me.” “He has told you that? That is excellent, for I am sure you will try all the harder.” “I guess I probably will. So what happens next?” “Did Darren tell you how to come prepared?” “Yes.” “Show me, please.” “What, here? With the curtains open and the light on!” “Yes. Part of this training is for you to learn to be obedient. You must train your mind to do the right things and part of that is to learn to do as you are told.” “Yes, Mr Dawson, Darren mentioned that.” “Good, in that case, please show me you are ready.” Kelly had arrived wearing a fake-fur coat that went down to her knees. She also wore calf-length boots that rose to meet the hem of the coat. Dawson knew she’d prepared herself. Darren had called him to tell him Kelly was on her way and she’d spent an hour in the bathroom beforehand. Slowly she unbuttoned the coat and slid it off her shoulders. “Excellent. I see you are already able to follow instructions.” Kelly was standing there naked except for the boots and a black, wispy thong. “Did you experience anything while driving here?” He asked politely. “Not really. I felt a bit vulnerable at first but I got over that initial fear when I realised no-one could really see me or notice what was under the coat.” “Ah, that is good. I think you will gain much from this session. Come with me.” Dawson led the woman out of the living room. He opened a door in the hallway – a door that led to a flight of stairs leading to his cellar. “Please, follow me. Be careful on the steps, they are quite steep.” He flipped the light switch, flooding the stairwell with soft, yellow light. At the bottom of the stairs was a second door leading into a room. The room was sparsely furnished and had a tiled floor. Two thirds of the way down the room was a metal table about two feet wide and six feet long. On top of the table was a thin, black leather mat. “Please, go and lie on the table with your back to the mat.” Kelly did as she was instructed, the meaning of the term ‘therapy table’ suddenly dawning on her. It was too late to back out now and suddenly she knew why she would never forget this evening with Greg Dawson.

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