Work Your Magic On Me

India Summer called her patient Joseline Kelly back into the office. The family had sent Joseline because they suspected a sex addiction, but Joseline kept promising she had it under control. Today India wanted Pamela Morrison, Joseline's own sister, to weigh in. Pamela didn't hold back. Joseline was worse than ever: the entire cheer squad, three teachers, the grocery bagger, even the girl behind the deli counter. India listened, thighs pressed tight, pulse quickening at every filthy detail. When Pamela left, India turned on Joseline. The lies had to stop. She made Joseline tell the stories herself, slowly, in explicit detail, until the room felt thick with heat. Finally India leaned forward and delivered her verdict: Joseline was a lesbian nymphomaniac. Joseline braced for judgment, but none came. India admitted she liked the diagnosis, needed it, wanted it for herself. She asked whether Joseline had ever pictured fucking her own therapist. Joseline's answer was immediate and obvious. The waiting ended. Today, right here on the office couch, Joseline would show India exactly what out-of-control looked like.