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as she convulsed in orgasm, twitching and thrashing in the chair. She shoved two fingers into her vagina and felt her empty sheath spasm hungrily around them as her eyes rolled up into her head in a delicious, full-body orgasm that hit her with jolt after jolt of shattering release. The intensity of her climax took her completely by surprise and her convulsions were so intense that she felt her juices flood out around her fingers and run down her hand as the nails of her other hand made deep marks in her flushed breast.
    All she could think of was her own nakedness and the man sitting there, calmly and intently watching her make a shameless slut out of herself. The image filled her with lewd and bitter pleasure.
    “Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh yes! Oh yes! Oh fuck yes!” she whined, feeling the throbbing ecstasy fade with each dwindling spasm of her body. Slowly all her wire-taut muscles relaxed. Her limbs began trembling as she continued to reverberate like a great bell with the fading echoes of her orgasm.
    Slowly she returned to reality. This strange reality. She saw her clothes folded on the table, the desk, the cone of light, the hands lying calmly in the lamplight.
    “Are you all right now?” he asked softly.
    She could tell from his tone that he had not orgasmed. Whatever she had thought he was doing, he hadn’t shared her climax—she had come alone with him watching her.
    Zoe was still gasping for breath. “Yes,” she said, deeply ashamed and confused.
    “I’ll have Ms. Liu bring you a warm towel,” he said.
    “No. No, that’s all right. I’m fine,” she said, awkwardly trying to move her legs.
    “As you wish,” he said.
    He said nothing more for a minute, then she heard him stand up and go to the same door by which he’d come in.
    He stopped. “That was excellent, Ms. Alexander. An excellent first session. I’ll look for you in three days, same time?”
    Before she could say anything she saw the door open and he stood there for a moment in the wedge of light, in silhouette, a shadow regarding her.
    “Don’t forget your money,” he said, and was gone.
    Chapter Two

    All the next day, images from the night before came back to her, as from a dimly remembered but disturbing dream. The Doctor’s shadow in the dark, the feel of the leather chair on her naked skin, the money lying on the desk, her orgasm—shameful, yet tinged with a strange sort of perverse pride. She went through her day in a state of distraction. She could not forget what happened last night, she could not understand it.
    Her initial feelings of embarrassment changed as the day wore on and she slowly convinced herself that she’d been manipulated into doing what she’d done and she was, therefore, not entirely responsible for her behavior. The only way she could explain it to herself was that it hadn’t really been her, the strange circumstances and unusual surroundings had so disoriented her that she was no longer herself. But at the same time she was aware of a lingering thrill at what she’d done. She was pleased to discover that she could still surprise herself with her own behavior, that there might still be sides to her and potentials that she didn’t yet know.
    What disturbed her most was the realization that the Doctor hadn’t really forced or talked her into doing what she’d done. Masturbation hadn’t been part of the deal. He had offered her money to disrobe and that was all. But somehow in her nervousness she had worked herself into masturbating in front of him and masturbating to a powerful yet humiliating sexual climax, because that’s what she thought he’d wanted.
    But was that really it?
    Zoe was not the kind of girl to let go like that. Not now anyway. Maybe before her breakup, but since Jack had ended it she had changed totally. Everything had changed since their breakup, slowly and painfully. She was no longer the person Jack had molded her into being, no longer the party girl his friends envied him for,