Dr. Phil – A Fantasy

Dr. Phil – A Fantasy

I am diligently working on the exercises in the Self Matters book that Dr. Phil wrote. It is hard work, but I feel like I am making headway into some of the things about myself that puzzle me.

I have written to Dr. Phil to ask him questions and tell him of my progress. I have been having a hard time remembering things that happened to me when I was a kid. Boy, was I surprised when I got an email back telling me that I just had to choose to remember. This seemed to help.

We started writing back and forth and he was very encouraging to me. Encouragement from him turned to flirting a bit from me. He was ever the gentleman. I told him I felt like I was missing something and asked if I could meet with him after one of his seminars to go over the work I had been doing. He agreed to help however he could.

We met in the restaurant of our hotel. Hey, you gotta eat, right? We had a lovely dinner and then coffee. We started to talk about the exercises in the book and what I had been doing. As we were about to start going over all the writings I had done it occurred to both of us that the restaurant staff was trying to close and clean up. I suggested we go to my suite where we could take our time talking. He agreed and we left.

Once in my suite I made us tea while he read my assignments. When he was done, I told him that I felt like I was bad and guilty of something that I couldn’t remember. Thoughts and feelings of guilt nearly overwhelmed me. I said that if I could just feel released from the guilt of not being good all the time I would feel so much better.

Dr. Phil said that he thought he could help me with a therapy that he used on rare occassions. He thought it might be right for me, but warned me that it was very unconventional. I was ready to try anything. He looked around the suite and pointed to a corner of the room and told me to go stand in it. I did as he told me to. Once there he came up behind me and lifted the back of my skirt and tucked it into the waistband. I felt his big strong hands on my hips as his thumbs hooked into the top of my panties and hose and pushed them down to my knees. I felt his warm breath on my neck. “Do not move until I tell you to”, he drawled in his sexy Texas accent.

I waited as I was instructed. My bare bottom on display. I could hear him moving around the suite. I heard him sit down on the sofa, then the TV was turned on. I started to turn and see what he was doing when he barked at me to keep my nose in the corner.

After what seemed like an eternity he spoke to me. “Well, Little Missy, you feel guilty for something but you don’t know what? Is that what you are telling me?” “Yes, Sir.” “Well, it is possible that you feel guilty for something that you didn’t do. That happens to some people. What I am going to do is punish you for whatever actions you may have taken and when it is over you will have paid a dear price for your transgressions but you will know that all you need do is go forward and do the best you can.” “Yes, Sir” I whispered.

Dr. Phil came over and stood behind me. “When you chose your actions, you chose your consequences. This punishment is the consequence of your actions. Do you understand that?” “Yes Sir” “Good, because this will not be easy for you to take. Your actions must have been very bad for you to have blocked them out. Now, ask me for your punishment.”

“Dr. Phil, would you please punish me so that I can be relieved of my guilty feelings?” “Yes, I will” he drawled back. He took my hand and led me across the room to the armless chair in front of the TV. I had to hobble along because the pantyhose were limiting my steps. When I got to the chair he sat down and pulled me over his lap. With his left hand on my back he started rubbing my ass with his right hand. It was so big and warm. Then he lifted his arm into the air and brought it back down with a hard slap to my ass. Again and again he brought it down. He scolded me the whole time about not hurting others or myself. And paying attention to my surroundings. And being nice to others. My bottom was on fire. The sting was so strong. I couldn’t even kick me feet because of the restriction of the pantyhose. I was crying out that I would be good from now on, if only he would stop spanking me. And then he stopped.

I started to get up and he pushed me back down. “I did not say you could move yet, did I?” “No, Sir. I’m sorry Sir.” He gave me a few very hard swats to remind me to obey him. Then he told me to stand up and go back into the corner until he called for me again. And I was not to touch my bottom if I knew what was good for me. I hobbled my way across the room and back into the corner. The tears were streaming down my face. After about 15 minutes he called me back to him. His sleeves were rolled up and he was standing behind the big arm chair. When I reached where he was standing he told me that this was the most important part of my punishment. I was to remove all my clothing, which I did. He then told me to unbuckle his belt and remove it from the loops and hand it to him after folding it in half. I did as instructed. “Do you know why you did that?” “Because you told me to.” That was met with a hard pinch to one nipple. “No, you did it because you are going to be strapped with the belt until I decide that the guilt has all drained out of you,” he drawled back at me. “Yes Sir.”

He pushed me over the back of the chair, my bottom facing straight up in the air. He slapped the inside of my thighs to force my legs further apart. My toes barely touched the floor. He instructed me to hold onto the front of the chair. My body was stretched all the way forward. “If you move we start all over. I advise you not to choose to move.” “Yes Sir” With that the belt came down hard on my bottom. Before I had a chance to recover the next came and then the next. Over and over his belt fell on my bottom and then my thighs and legs and even my calves. I never knew where the belt would land next. He paused for a moment and told me that I would receive 10 more straps and that I had to count them out. The belt fell across the crease where my bottom meets my thighs and again on the inside of both thighs. These were very hard, but I counted all of them. When he was done he knelt in front of me and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “You did so well. I am so proud of you. Don’t you feel better now? All that bad guilt is gone. And now you can go on with your life with a clean slate.” He helped me to stand and wrapped his big strong arms around me. I felt so safe and yes, I felt much better. “Thank you, Dr. Phil,” I whispered as I hugged him tight.

He tucked me into bed and left my suite, but not before leaving his private phone number on the desk.