Friday, November 23, 2012


When I was a teenager, I actually had aversion therapy, though not the kind in my current spanking story.  It was through a company called Schick, and they gave their clients mild electric shock on the arm while he/she (okay, me!) ate a "bad" food.  (I have since really tried to move away from thinking of foods as bad, although the characters in my stories have not!)

It didn't work for me.

Aversion therapy doesn't work in my story either.  In my version, the heroine, Holly Nolan, gets spankings instead of shocks.  Her therapist, Dr. Scott Copeland, is so cute and caring, that somehow Holly starts enjoying getting spanked by him.  (Like that ever happens!)

Here's a scene where Scott and Holly run into each other at a party.  Not too long after this encounter, the doctor is forced to accept that he enjoys spanking Holly as much as she enjoys getting spanked.

“I didn’t know you knew Jason,” Holly said, before Scott could launch into a reassuring comment or two about how therapists and patients occasionally ran into each other outside the office and it wasn’t necessary to pretend they didn’t know each other. 

            “I don’t.  I came with a friend.”

            “Who wants to have vicarious sex through you,” Holly said, then flushed.  “Sorry.  I overheard you two talking.  I was sitting by the window, you were outside.  I didn’t know it was you when I did the overhearing though.  I knew the voice—your voice—was familiar, but it didn’t hit me why until just this second.  Or, you know, two seconds ago, when I said that vicarious thing.  Which you should ignorant—ignore, I mean, my mouth isn’t cooperating so well--what I said.  And I will ignore that I said it too.”

            She was just too adorable when she babbled, as he now knew for sure she always did when she was nervous.  Was she nervous now?  Or did she also babble when she’d been drinking?  It didn’t matter.  In either case, it was up to him to take control.  “I should have brought up the protocol for us running into each other outside the office,” he said.

            “There’s a protocol?”  She beamed.  “Hey, I said that perfect.  And protocol is a hard word on Heineken.”  A girl passed Holly a little too closely.  They knocked shoulders, and Holly almost stumbled into the table that held the chocolate fountain.  Scott lightly caught her by the arm to steady her.

            “It’s a simple protocol.”  He reluctantly released his arm.  “You don’t have to pretend not to see me.  And you don’t have to worry that I’ll reveal the nature of our connection.”

            Holly giggled.  “You mean you won’t go around telling people you regularly spank my bare bottom?”

            Scott looked around.  It didn’t seem like anyone had heard.  It probably wasn’t even possible.  He could only hear Holly because they were standing so close together.  Thinking that, he took a half a step away.

            “No, what I meant was I wouldn’t tell people that I’m your therapist,” he answered.  He sounded like he had a stick up his butt.  That was good though.  It was better to be more formal than less in a situation like this.

            “Well, not tonight,” Holly said. She took a half a step forward, closing the distance he’d put between them.  “Not at a party.  Like if I had some of that yummy chocolate, it’s not like you’d take me over your knee right here, is it?”

            Fuck.  Did she have to keep talking about it?  In another minute, he’d be getting hard.  Why had he had so many beers?  Alcohol equaled a lack of inhibition.  Which was fine at a party.  It’s not like he’d been expecting to see Holly tonight.

            Professional.  Be professional.  “If you ate one of your—“  It took him a moment to come up with the right words.  Another alcohol effect.  “Your trigger foods in front of me, and I didn’t follow up with an aversion action, I believe it would negatively affect our work,” he told her.

            Her brow furrowed.  “So wait.  That means…  What you mean is if I did eat the chocolate right now, you’d have to paddle me right now.  Right?”

            “In our relationship—“

            “Which we don’t have,” Holly interrupted.


            “A relationship.  We don’t have one.  I guess you don’t have one with anybody.  I got that eavesdropping.  Dropping. And neither do I right now,” Holly said.

            “In our therapeutic relationship,” Scott clarified.  “In that relationship, you need to know that I will punish you if you engage in the behaviors we are working together to stop.”

            “Hmmm.”  Holly slipped one finger into the chocolate fountain, then raised it, wet and dripping to her lips.

            “Don’t,” Scott ordered, trying to bring the necessary sternness to his voice.

            But she did.  She put her finger into her mouth, and sucked the chocolate off.  “Mmmm,” she murmured.  She started to dip her finger into the fountain again, but Scott grabbed her wrist.

             He glanced around the room.  They needed privacy.  Now. 

            “Let’s go outside.  We need to discuss this.”

            “But it’s cold.”  Holly pouted.  “I know.  Guest house.  Come on.”  She started through the crowd.  He followed still holding her wrist, although it was she leading him.

            A few minutes later they were standing in front of a guest house at the edge of the property.  He hadn’t even noticed it when he was outside with Markus.  It was hidden behind a stand of trees.  Holly tried to slide the key into the lock for the third time.  And missed, for the third time.

            “Let me.”  Scott took the key from her, but he missed the lock too.  Tried it again.  Missed it again.

            “I think Dr. Copeland’s a little drunky-poo,” Holly teased.

            Scott thought she was right, but he managed to unlock the door on the third try.  He swung it open, then made sure to lock it behind them as soon as they stepped inside.  Holly immediately wriggled out of her pants.  “I don’t think I really need to take these panties off.  It’s not like they cover anything.”  She snapped her thong.

            True.  It left both round globes of her ass completely on display.

            Take control, he ordered himself.  Now.  “You know that part of the aversion is the embarrassment involved.  For this reason, even if the spanking isn’t felt more intensely with the underwear down, it can be an important therapeutic element.”  That was kick-ass, he thought.  He’d rattled that off like he’d been drinking water all night.  

            “The thing is?”  Holly stripped off her thong and twirled it around one finger.  “I’m just not feeling embarrassed, Dr. Copeland.”

            This was a mistake.  The alcohol was blocking Holly from having the appropriate reaction.  He should have dealt with this at their next session and given her the spanking she deserved then.  But he really had felt that allowing her to eat a trigger food in his presence without punishment would be detrimental to her therapy.  Okay, so, he had to just get through this.

            There was a couch not far away.  He sat down.  “Come here, Holly,” he instructed, making his voice as chilly and clinical as he could, trying as hard as he could not to take in the pert little triangle of pubic hair she was showing off.

            “Nope.  I’m going to see what Jase has in the kitchen.  He always has the best stuff.”  She gave a twirl then skipped—yes, “skipped” was the only word for it, into the next room.  He followed her, anger at her disobedience rising up in him.  Sometimes patients needed to be encouraged to go through an aversion session, but he’d never had to deal without outright defiance.
AVERSION THERAPY is available at Amazon, Amazon UK, and Barnes & Noble


  1. if it were me, I'd just eat the chocolate in secret. :D

    Though I think she's not exactly getting "punished".

  2. Fun concept, Emma!

    Years ago my mother and my stepfather went to the Schick Center for aversion therapy to quit smoking. It worked for my mother, but didn't work for my stepfather. My mother had said though, that it was the money she'd spent the therapy that kept her smoking. She didn't want it to be a waste.