The Therapist

Note: This story contains Female & Male Desperation, Deliberate Wetting, Humiliation, Exhibitionism, and Sex.
“What can I do for you?” said Danielle to the seemingly happy young couple sitting in front of her. Having been specialised on sex–related cases directly after University about 10 years ago, the therapist wasn’t used to couples holding hands during the first session. “You don’t seem to be too unhappy with each other!”
“Well”, the boy started, “we do love each other, and we have been together for more than five years now. It is just that our sexual fantasies seem not to match.”
“Now, this is the case with the vast majority of all couples” said the therapist “but it is great to see that you intend to address that challenge rather than accepting it as force majeure.” After briefly describing the risks of unaddressed sexual issues, she asked them frankly: “So, what are your unmatched fantasies?” “I get aroused from seeing Marga wet her pants – but she usually feels too embarrassed to do it for me.” The boy bluntly said.
Marga protested: “Hey, that’s not entirely true” she said “It is just that I simply can’t do it in public!”
“Interesting” said Danielle, “would you mind describing this further?”
“In fact, I do it quite frequently for Ben” she replied “and I like the feeling as well. But the mere thought of getting caught in action makes me panicky. Sometimes I even let it dribble a bit for Ben when I wear a skirt – but I would be really afraid of someone seeing it run down my legs.” “And wetting just this tiny bit doesn’t make you feel this way?” “No, not at all. I have even done it for Ben earlier today. “She lifted her skirt with her left hand and pointed between her legs with the right hand, “He likes caressing my wet pantyhose crotch with his fingers when nobody watches us. I enjoy this as well, so it is also a bit selfish of me to let go a bit from time to time.”
Danielle again explained how the human brain works, and she outlined the influence of childhood and hormones on sexual fantasies. Then she stressed that no status quo is unchangeable. She outlined a few options. It is a precondition that both partners have a positive attitude and are willing to embrace change. Ben and Marga agreed and declared their openness.
The therapist looked at the girl. “What do YOU dream about Ben doing?” She reflected quickly before replying “I sometimes dream about the two of us walking around in a crowded place with torn and ripped underwear – while no–one around gets to know about it. I do it myself from time to time but I never dared tell Ben.”
Ben sat there staring at her, and then he sized her up as if he was guessing whether she was wearing torn underwear right now. He couldn’t see anything, of course, except for the almost inevitable run in her pantyhose. He had always wondered why she had runs so frequently. He pointed at her run with a questioning look. She nodded with a shy smile, pulling a bit at her pantyhose thus increasing the run.
Their attention was returned to Danielle who explained that she would like to discuss ways out of the problem now.
She said “The first and most successful method is the approach of little steps. We know this from the therapy against phobias.” She looked at Marga.
“I see that you couldn’t wet your pants in public right now. But it would be far easier for you to start small. If I understand you correctly, you can wet your pants at home, behind closed doors. You wouldn’t do it outside. But would you do it – here?”
Marga stared at her in disbelief. Then she looked at Ben and saw the pleading expression on his face. While she was still reluctant, Danielle moved her dustbin towards her. “I will leave this room now. Just call me when you are done.” She left without waiting for confirmation by the couple.
When they were alone, Ben turned to Marga “Are you still a bit wet between your legs?” She nodded, lifting her skirt. The thin cloth of the pantyhose revealed a cute pair of pink panties. Two of the runs in her pantyhose broadened and ended in holes at her thighs, showing that the panties were visibly darker at the crotch. Before Marga could drop the hem again, Ben started to caress that part with his fingers while giving her a very tender kiss. She shivered. Ben moved the dustbin between her legs with his right foot. It was a nearly–empty, tube–shaped metal container, and there was good hope that it should be fairly watertight.
Ben continued to caress Marga as he had done so often, and she closed her eyes and enjoyed it. She decided to relax and to see what would happen. Her crotch turned even darker, and a small stream ran down on the back of her fake leather skirt, then on the seating surface of the wooden chair. Her legs formed natural borders so that the flow found its way to the dustbin. Then suddenly she seemed to open all gates, and a tremendous torrent escaped her body. It mostly followed the previous stream but a lot ran down her panty hosed legs into her ballerina pumps. She didn’t care. Her eyes were closed, his were wide open.
When his hand got out of touch with her crotch for a second she whispered “Don’t stop!” Then she tore open her pantyhose and tried to rip a hole into her panties. At first, the cloth didn’t want to give in but when she pulled stronger, she accidentally ripped out almost the full front of her panties, from the bottom seam up. She took his hand and led it to her clitoris.
He did a fantastic job with his fingers, always anticipating what she just wanted, and she came with a short loud scream before she got her voice under control again. She looked at him as if she had suddenly woken up from a dream. She realised that she had come while he hadn’t – seeing the bulge in his pants. While kissing him, she opened his zipper and massaged his dick through his underpants. Before she could go any further, his body twitched, and he came right in his pants.
They both leaned back, in disbelief of what they had just done. It took them a while to get sorted before they could check for the therapist. Ben called her mobile, and she was back after a few minutes. She looked around, smiled and said “I see that the first session was already a success! Don’t mind the patches – I’ll tidy up as part of the therapy work. Just remember what you did and how you enjoyed it.”
— ––––
One week later they came for the next session. Ben and Marga had talked about the first session a couple of time but they hadn’t done any specific practice on the subject, beyond the normal indoor pee pleasure they have always done from time to time.
Most of the second session was spent on talking about secret wishes and experiences but also about concerns, reservations and fears. All three of them walked around in the room while they talked, to avoid a sterile consultation hour feeling. At last, Danielle saw so much mutual openness in the behaviour of the couple that she decided to suggest the second step in her hands–on therapy.
She walked in front of the couple and asked “Are you ready to try it with a third person in the room?” Marga reflected a moment, and then she said “Oh, it would have to be a very familiar person.” “Well”, said Danielle, “what about me? You have already told me a lot of your secret thoughts anyway. Please consider me a doctor from whom you wouldn’t hide anything.”
Marga was unsure. The therapist guessed her thoughts “Would you feel humiliated if you did something that grown persons usually don’t do, in front of another person?”
“Yes, I would think you’d look down on me – this kind of I’m low and you’re high, you know?”
“Now, what about if I get myself on your level?”
“That means?”
Danielle smiled again “Let’s pee our pants together. That should make it far easier for you.” Marga looked at Danielle in disbelief. Then she looked at her legs “You are not even wearing a skirt – everybody would see it afterwards!”
“Don’t worry! This does not really come as a surprise to me, so I have a second pair of pants with me.” Marga was still reluctant – until she saw a dark patch at Danielle’s crotch. Ben didn’t dare stand between the two women, so that Marga would see the therapist wetting herself without him in–between.
Standing next to her he began to massage her butt below her skirt. That gave Marga the trigger, and she let go before Danielle’s pee had even reached the ground. Soon there was a big puddle around her cute dark red ballerina shoes. Danielle seemed to take the challenge and before long the two puddles joined on the wooden floor. “I guess step 2 of your therapy could be called a success as well” the therapist said before the couple left. Then she took off her jeans and used them to mop the floor. As she hadn’t thought of spare underwear, she took her clean skirt over her wet panty and her extremely thin pair of pantyhose. Then she continued with some paperwork. Due to the nature of Marga’s thin black pantyhose and smooth leather shoes, she showed no visible trace of what she had done while they walked home, arm in arm. This time Ben had to wait until back at home before it was his turn but he could live with it.
They scheduled the next meeting over the phone. When they discussed where they stood, the therapist read between the lines that Marga was expecting Ben to contribute as well. She said “Another method recommended by psychology to address a problem like yours is the mutual approach: I do something nice for you, and you do something nice for me. Whenever you do so, you’d think of the other’s favour.”
“Ben, what do you think about this dream of Marga?” Danielle asked.
“A bit weird…” he smiled, when he suddenly began to see?
“You mean, I…?” “Oh yes, and in fact you could even do this at the same time. Imagine how much easier it would be to do this for Ben if you knew that, at the same time, he is sharing a very erotic secret with you.”
The therapist and the couple agreed to exchange the sterile office for a street side cafe for the next session in two days’ time. The day after, the psychologist called both Ben and Marga independently at their respective workplace. “Ben” she said, “would it be possible for you to show up in torn underwear?”
“I had already intended to do so”, he replied. “I really don’t have a problem with Marga’s wish – if only she had told me before!”
It wasn’t so straightforward when Danielle called Marga. “You want me to wet my pants in public? Do you suggest this because Ben pays you?”
“Not at all! And I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. I would just ask you to wear a skirt, think of your own fantasies and be prepared for everything.”
“No force – promised?”
“Promised! So, you know what I expect you to do?”
“Well, I think so…”
The following day was sunny, with hardly a cloud in the sky. Ben and Marga had taken a day off to enjoy what Marga would have called “Power Shopping”. They bought a few electronic appliances for him and three pairs of shoes for her, plus this and that because it was soooo cheap, or because she had always tried to find it in this quality, or because she just ran out of supply recently, or…
When they met in front of the cafe at the agreed time the sun had disappeared behind the roofs of the city, and it was already getting dark. Danielle was wearing a long thin coat over a blouse and a pair of jeans. She greeted the couple and gave them an introduction of a very special kind: She lifted her long pullover revealing a wet patch with the diameter of an apple in the crotch of her tight jeans. She invited the couple to sit down with her at one of the tables. They ordered cold drinks, a salad each and talked about psychology between the sexes.
Danielle had noticed the runs in Marga’s expensive pantyhose. She had also noticed that those runs grew upwards before they disappeared under Marga’s hem. However, she had also noticed that Ben’s socks sometimes revealed holes when he twisted his feed. She tried to imagine what his underpants may look like. This is where she started.
She asked Ben to open his zipper below the table, and then she asked Marga to find out blind which underpants Ben was wearing. Marga’s right hand started the journey to Ben’s zipper and into the entry gate.
“Ooooh”, she suddenly said “you aren’t wearing any underpants! Wait! What’s that?” She further explored the area between his legs blindly. She felt all the holes in his underpants the biggest of which had given his Johnson the opportunity to escape. She understood that he had listened and done her the long–deserved erotic favour. After she had let his dick out of his cage she took his hand and led it under her skirt. He could feel the remainder of what must have been the upper part of her pantyhose, desperately trying to cover what felt like lacey underpants.
She looked at the therapist with a mixture of gratitude and cluelessness. In response, Danielle stood up, so that the couple could see her rapidly wetting herself. Marga understood. While she was caressing his dick under the table, she took all her courage and relaxed the closing muscles of her urethra. Within seconds, her underpants, the rags of her pantyhose and parts of her skirt were wet, and she notices a significant increase in size of the organ of Ben she had in her right hand. She continued back and forth movements, and it was not long before rhythmic spasms indicated that he had an erection – the first one in public he could remember and, as he said to himself, probably the best orgasm he ever had outside of Marga.
This day, Marga had to wait for her turn until they came back home. She undressed Ben and found his tee–shirt and his underpants torn into pieces – even his socks were totally ruined wherever they were covered by his pants or shoes. She threw him on his back straight on the living room carpet, and then she kneeled above him and – emptied her bladder entirely.
What she then did with his Big Ben is left to the imagination of the reader. Meanwhile, Danielle celebrated the success of her therapy adequately. She had changed into a skirt for the night and ignored the runs in her pantyhose. Later, while queuing at a cash point in the dark of the night, she spontaneously decided to empty her bladder in her pair of ruined pantyhose, as a tribute to Ben and Marga.
By: The Earl of Wet