Couple Counseling

Starting on a shorty story is very easy, finishing one has been much more difficult for me in these recent years. Still, I managed to get at least one done. I hope you like it.

Couple Counseling

Susan Wright glanced at her minimal though rather expensive wristwatch, then looked at the door of her office, expecting Marla Smithers and her husband to arrive any moment. She glanced at her watch again when a red light on the phone on her desk started blinking. It was her assistant, letting her know that her next client had arrived. Susan gently pressed a button next to it. The light stopped flashing and moments later, the office door opened and the imposing figure of Marla Smithers filled her field of view.

The way she tightly gripped her husband’s wrist as they took their places on the sofa made her think of the first time their first session. It was Matt, her husband, that first caught her attention. Even though he was slight in stature and to Susan’s guess barely as tall as her wife when she accounted for Marla’s mid-height heels, she found his lean, athletic body and his gentle, though well defined facial figures inexplicably virile. His demeanor was polite and cooperative and it soon started to appear to Susan that Marla’s vice-like grip on her husband's wrist was more for her sake rather than his.

This would be nothing new to Susan. In the vast majority of her clients, the wives liked to exert a certain degree of dominance over her husbands. This was to be expected, anyway, since Susan advertised her services predominantly to women, and therefore only those women which managed to persuade their husbands, by fire or by force, to take part in Susan’s couples therapy. The fact that Susan’s services were not cheap additionally filtered her client types, so at the first glance, Marla Smithers was not much different from any other wealthy, dominant lady that had graced her office with her presence.

The reason for their visit was also nothing that Susan hadn’t heard before. It appeared that Ms. Smithers, in what she considered their mature age, was no longer willing to accommodate her husband’s sexual appetite, which was starting to cause a strain on their marriage. “There’s a problem I’d like to help you with,” Susan thought, looking at Matt Smithers from the corner of her eye, and indeed it would not be the first time for her to let herself enjoy the company of a sexually frustrated and handsome husband of her clients. However, she had a feeling that the case had too much potential to be spoiled by a casual fling of passion. The feeling was confirmed with each subsequent visit, as she was beginning to discover something unusual about the way Marla exuded an image of power that attracted her even more than Matt’s refined masculinity. By and large, Susan’s clients booked sessions only because they wanted to be validated in tormenting their husbands and Susan, knowing where her bread was buttered, was only too eager to oblige them. She realized that she was not so much helping the relationship as much as helping the satisfied customer bring in more of her type, though at least occasionally, she found comfort in the fact that a husband could use her sessions as an excuse to relinquish the obstacles of his male ego and happily submit himself at last to the dominance of his wife. Unlike any other client so far, Marla impressed her by how quickly she took her lead and even brought in new suggestions herself, all which served the gradual deconstruction of her husband’s masculinity.




Yet again, as she watched Matt take his place by his wife, she was finding herself excited by the prospects of the case. Matt’s virility, slowly eroded through the past sessions, was now even further compromised by the fact that he was dressed from head to toe in women’s clothes. Though that might be hidden from the casual observer, Susan didn’t fail to notice the pearl buttons of his light blue cardigan, nor that the white collar beneath it belonged to a ladies blouse. She also didn’t miss the side zipper of his dark blue slacks, his patent leather brogues, nor the flashes of nylon as he walked past her desk. She could spot a clear coat of varnish over his nails and faint traces of makeup on his face, and sensed a whiff of a sweet, floral perfume before being drowned in Marla’s usual Chanel No5.

“How are you doing, Matt?” she asked him, “Have you tried what we discussed last time, to help you get more in touch with female energy?”

As usual, it was his wife that answered the question, directed at him.

“He has been trying,” Marla said, “But I am not really satisfied with his progress. It’s like we hit his natural limit of empathy.”

“Such processes take time,” Susan replied, calmingly.

“We would like to try what you suggested last time,” Marla said.

“Hormone therapy?” Susan said, trying her best to hide the glimmer in her eye, “That would certainly help Matt expand the range of his emotions, though as I said, empathy cannot be learned overnight. I am sure we haven’t seen the last of Matt’s natural progress, yet.”

“Maybe so, but if there is a solution, we are only wasting time by not taking it,” Marla replied to Susan’s great relief.

She opened the drawer and took out the consent forms she had prepared in advance. Smiling, she placed them before Matt, together with a pen.

Martha nudged her husband and he shuffled forward to sign the form.

“I need to warn you, however,” Susan said, “Emotional changes won’t be the only changes Matt will experience.”

Warily, Matt put down the pen he had already held in his hand and listened attentively to Susan.

“With time, quite tangible physical changes are likely to appear,” Susan explained, “Changes in bodily fat distribution. Changes in the vocal register. Probably reduction in facial and body hair. Matt is also likely to experience a significant reduction in his libido,” she continued, then added after a thoughtful pause, “And his capacity to act upon it.”

“Actually, I’m not sure this is really the right solution,” he said nervously, looking back at his wife.

“No,” Marla said forcefully, “This is exactly the solution we are looking for.”

“But, you heard that the changes won’t be just emotional,” he weakly protested.

“Listen to me,” she hissed, “We’ve been through this. The reason you’re unhappy is because you have unrealistic wishes that cannot be fulfilled. How do you not see that a therapy that removes these very wishes is exactly what you need?”

“I thought we were trying to adjust my emotions and acceptance about how unrealistic my wishes are,” he meekly repeated his mantra of the past sessions.

“Well, you see how well that has been working out for you,” Marla curtly replied, “Don’t you think it’s time we tried another approach as well?”

“Just try out?” he asked, with a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Wordlessly, Marla nodded her head slightly, then stared her husband down until he obediently signed the forms in front of him.

“Marvelous,” Susan replied, quickly retrieving the forms from him before he could change his mind.

“A word of warning,” she said, “When you start your therapy, you might find the changes in your emotions very rapid and unpredictable. You might find yourself having lots of emotional outbursts for no apparent reason.”

“I think he’s having one right now,” Marla laughed as her husband's face started contorting.

Susan joined in the laughter, until Matt started crying in earnest.

Quickly, she stopped laughing and passed him a box of tissues. Gratefully, Matt took one and loudly blew his nose, prompting both women to burst out with laughter again, and this time, Susan did not hold back.




All morning, Susan had been distracted at work, anticipating excitedly the first session of the afternoon which was booked by Marla Smithers. Usually, Marla would keep her informed of her husband’s progress between sessions, but since her last sessions, words from Marla had been far and in between.

To Susan’s surprise, after pressing the button, it was not Marla that entered her office but a strange lady, rather attractively dressed in a silk floral print pencil skirt and a pale pink blouse with billowing sleeves and a large bow at the front. Only when Marla followed her, after having opened the door for her, did Susan realize that the lady in front of her was in fact Matt Smithers. Inadvertently, she gasped with surprise and covered her gaping mouth with her hand, then broke into a wide grin.

“Welcome,” she said, “Do come in.”

Admiringly, and with a tang of envy, she looked at Matt’s slender legs running from the hem of his skirt down to a pair of white pumps with four inch stiletto heels, and as he made his way to his usual place, she could not help but notice the deftness and ease of his pace that could have only been gained through rigorous practice of walking on high heels.

“That’s a very pretty skirt, Matt,” she complimented him, “Did you choose it yourself?”

“Thank you,” he said and nodded, then noticed his wife looking at him intently.

“Go on,” she said.

“Actually,” he shyly began speaking, making Susan take note of how much more girlishly his voice sounded, “My name is now Veronica, and I would like to ask you to refer to me as a woman.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Veronica,” Susan smiled, “I will do my best to keep that in mind, though I hope you’ll forgive me if I slip on occasion.”

Veronica nodded shyly and sat back.

“I take it you’re satisfied with Veronica’s progress?” Susan said to Marla, “She does seem to have fully embraced her femininity. The hormone therapy must have been a success.”

“It’s been very helpful so far,” Marla replied, “You see, I realized that if I wanted to really succeed in getting fully in touch with the female energies, like you said he should, I needed to eliminate everything that could still remind him of being a man. With the help of hormones, I was finally able to convince him to quit his job and start living as Veronica full time.”

Susan clapped her hands in delight.

“Bravo to you,” she said, then turned to Veronica.

“How do you feel about your progress, Veronica?” she asked, “Do you think you are now fully in tune with your wife’s desires?”

“I would like to think so,” Veronica said softly, “I keep trying every day.”

“So modest,” Marla cooed as she hugged Veronica across her shoulder and pulled her into her side. Susan couldn’t help but remark this was the first display of affection she had seen her make towards her husband.

“Then I suppose our work is done?” Susan said, raising her eyebrows, “You probably won’t be needing any appointments anytime soon?

“Actually,” Marla began carefully, “There maybe something you can help us with, still.”

“I’m all ears,” Susan said and smiled, “I’m really curious what faults you can still possibly find in Veronica now.”

“Oh, it’s not Veronica,” Marla replied, “It’s her mother.”

“Is she having a hard time accepting Veronica’s new role?” Susan asked.

“You know how some mothers are,” Marla said, “They think the Sun rises out of their sons’ asses. Veronica’s mother still can’t let go of the idea that her son was meant for greater things in life than being a housewife. Personally, it doesn’t bother me if she feels that way, because you can’t please everybody, but I would really prefer it if she would keep that to herself, because each time she visits, or we visit her, it makes Veronica upset.”

“I would be happy to schedule a session with her,” Susan replied.

“See, there’s the thing,” Marla said, then paused, “I’m not sure I can convince her to come here for a session. Do you think you could do a house call?”

Susan paused, then pretended to scroll her calendar on her laptop.

“It would have to be after regular business hours,” she said, “Though that’s not likely to be a problem for you. How about tomorrow evening?”

“I’m afraid scheduling an appointment at our house wouldn’t work, either,” Marla said, licking her suddenly dry lips, “Would it… at all… be possible for you to stay with us for a couple of days?”

“Oh,” Susan said, her heart pounding with excitement. She looked at Marla, and at her feminized husband, and tried to imagine what Marla had suggested.

“I suppose,” she began, “I could do the drive to the office from your place for a while.”

“I’m sure you will find Veronica a very eager and accommodating hostess,” Marla said excitedly.

Susan grappled with her thoughts for a couple of seconds, until she could not resist pushing her luck.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she said, “How many bedrooms do you have?”

“Enough,” Marla replied, “Even with Veronica sleeping in her own room, there will still be one for each of us.”

“I see…,” Susan began, paused for a second, then continued, “You see, I think it would be best if we could convince Veronica’s mother to stay with us for a while, too.”

“In that case, Veronica could move in with me and free up the other room,” Marla said.

“Oh no,” Susan hastily said, “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

Marla looked at her excitedly.

“I think something can be arranged,” she said hotly.


“Living in close quarters with you,” Susan continued, “Would be very beneficial for my research, you see…”
“Of course,” Marla said.



Susan looked at her watch and estimated she still had time to go to her house, quickly pack some essentials and still be back in time for the next session.

“I think it’s best if I pack my things and we continue this at your home,” she said to Marla.

“I have a better idea,” Marla said, “Could you call your receptionist for a moment?”

Obediently, Susan pressed a button on her phone and moments later, the young lady that had let Martha in entered the office.

“Meredith, is it?” Marla said, “Meredith, here’s what I would like you to do. Dr. Wright will be staying with us for a couple of days as a part of her research project, so I want you to go to her house and pack her bags. Do you think you can do that?”

Meredith carefully looked at Susan who in turn nodded approvingly.

“Yeah, sure,” she said.

“Splendid,” Marla replied, “Veronica will come along to help you. In the meantime, Dr. Wright and I have to discuss some of the research strategies.”



Susan stood up and walked around her desk to hand over her house keys to her assistant. At the same time, Veronica stood up and followed Meredith out of the office. Susan closed the door behind them. As she turned around, she saw that Marla had pushed her chair away from the desk and was facing the door. With a quick, determined pace, Susan walked over to Marla, sat in her lap and snaked her arms around her neck. She felt Marla’s powerful arms clasp around her back and she knew she was going to enjoy the next phase of her research career very much.