Sunday, July 17, 2011

Miss Kiley Goes to Washington!

Dear Diary,

Well, here we are, on a plane on our way to our nation's capital :) I have several friends who live in D.C., among them Mr. A.W. He and I have been friends for several years, but it was only about three years ago that he enlisted my assistance with a little problem he has.

"My dear Kiley" he wrote in that rather surprising email, "I recently began seeing a therapist, in order to cope with some issues that I have that have the potential to cause problems in my life, both private and public. It is on the advice of my therapist that I am writing you this email."

I, of course, was both concerned and interested. Mr. A.W. is a very srong-willed, self-assured and confident gentleman. He is well-loved by all who surround him, and he has thrived in his chosen industry. I could not imagine what issues he might have which would cause him to visit a therapist, let alone, what issues his therapist might feel required an email to me!

"Here's my problem" the email continued. "As you know, I have never been a terribly private person, I am very socially involved, not only through my work but on a personal level as well. I have gotten used to seeing my face and my name in the news and, quite frankly, I have enjoyed every single moment of my notoriety. I like the attention, I like knowing that around the world, people know who I am and what I stand for. However, over the last couple of years, my love of publicity, of notoriety, of having people know who I am has gotten out of control. Honestly, Kiley, I have become addicted to the internet. Oh, I know what you are thinking..."just turn off the computer and walk away" Trust me, Kiley, if it were that easy, I wouldn't be writing you this email."

"Yikes" I thought to myself "surely he isn't going to reveal some pornography addiction or something like that...not sure how I could help him with that!" I read on...

"I have discovered the wide world of internet, virtual sex, but not things like web-cam paysites, or pornography, but places where people go to meet, chat, engage in virtual sex of all types and then move on to the next person in the room. The number of people who responded the first time I posted a picture (just my body, no face pics) was overwhelming, and I was so turned on knowing all these people wanted to be with me. I have had virtual sexual encounters with, I don't know, hundreds of women? Possibly some of them were men, I don't know, and frankly I didn't care. The excitement, the feeling I got from having so many people desire me in such a way became uncontrollable, and I was online practically all the my office, at home, when I travelled, always finding someone new, someone who would want me. Finally, in a hotel on the road, after a particulary gratifying night of webcam and chat (and numerous orgasms), I found myself lying on the bed, wondering what was wrong with me? How had I become so addicted to this virtual sex world? The next morning, I made an appointment with a therapist and a week later had my first session. We discussed this issue, and he, surprisingly, suggested I find a Disciplinarian...someone who could use discipline in such a way that my desire to expose myself like this would become so distasteful that I would finally stop. Of course, knowing you, I immediately agreed...thus this email. Please come to see me, and prepare to discipline me as rigorously as you would any other naughty young man under your hand. I have arranged your travel details, I await your acceptance."

Well, of course, I accepted his invitation and went to D.C. as quickly as my schedule allowed. The first order of business was lunch with him and his therapist, a very nice woman who understood and approved of my role. I must admit, dear diary, that in her short suit skirt and fitted suit jacket, I did have a moment or two of regret that she was not to be the target of my paddle, but I banished that thought and focused on the matter at hand. We discussed his therapy, I planned my sessions in order to enhance her therapy plan, and we decided the next day would be the perfect day to begin his private discipline sessions.

He came to my hotel. I had instructed him to bring the laptop he used for his online liaisons, as well as whatever other things he usually had at hand when he was "hooking up". I had him set himself up comfortably, and allowed him to go online and show me the sites he visits and how everything works. When he showed me his email, I was stunned to see the hundreds of emails from women all over the world, sending him pictures of themselves naked, masturbating, the emails telling him how much he turned them on...arousing, to be sure, and I could understand how he could get so easily hooked on the desire and the approval he got from these women. As he read through the emails, he read some of them to me, and I could tell he wanted to take pictures of himself to send out, he wanted to turn on that webcam, he was practically drooling to rejoin his virtual world. 

"Get undressed" I instructed him, and he leaped to his feet and immediately began to undress. "Oh my" I though to myself "if I had come upon naked pictures of him online, I would want to see more, as well!" He takes very good care of himself and he is very well...equipped, shall we say ;)

I could barely get his attention, he was so absorbed in all the emails, and as he read them, he fiddled with the camera. I had him go to the website he liked for the webcamming, and with one click we were there, watching people doing very sexual and sexy things, to themselves and each other. He reached for the camera.

"No!" I swatted him on the ass with my hand. "You may be logged in, but you will not turn on the camera. Get on the bed, on your knees, ass up in the air." It was almost as if he was so engrossed in the computer that he did what I told him without even thinking. I took out my strap and stood next to him. "Go back to your email account." He flipped screens...just in the few minutes we were on the other website, more emails had come in, and he clicked on a new one. "Delete it" I instructed.

"But, Kiley, I just want to read it!" 

I smacked his ass with the strap "Delete it now!"

His cursor hovered over the delete button, and I strapped his ass again. "Delete it, and delete the rest of them, one at a opening them, just delete them."

He deleted them one at a time to the accompaniment of my strap on his ass, one stroke for each email, the strokes gradually coming harder and faster as he clicked the delete button over and over. 

"Now, delete the email account."

"No, please don't make me do that, please...let me keep the email!"

"Delete it, NOW!" I puncutated each word with a stroke of the strap.

He very grudgingly deleted the email account. "Now, back to the webcam site." He clicked back to the webcam page...the number of requests he had from people wanting to see him was amazing! 

"Close each request" I instructed, and my strap hit as each request window disappeared. "Now, are there emails on this account?" He clicked to the email box with a sigh; he knew these emails would go next and began deleting them without a word. One at a time the emails disappeared, each click once again accompanied by the stroke of my strap. "Now, delete the account."

"I can just make another one, you know" he whined, as if that would make this any easier on him.

"Young man, I think you know what will happen if I find you have made a new account. Now, delete it, and shut off the computer"

He deleted the webcam account, powered off the computer and closed the lid. I sat next to him on the bed and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "You know this is the only thing to do, right? This computer problem of yours is out of control, and the only way to get it back under control and to get over this addiciton is to stop it all together. I will help you, in my way, as will your doctor, but you have to cooperate with us. I and my strap hope to ensure your cooperation."

I proceeded to strap his ass an additional fifty strokes, all the while reinforcing with my words the goal we were working toward. When I was finished, I sat back down on the bed, gathering him in my arms and letting him relax, After a bit, he collected himself, and we discussed how to proceed in the future. We decided I would visit montly for the first six months, then check in with his therapist to see how he was progressing. 

And so, Dear Diary, that was three years ago. I saw him monthly for six months, then every two months for the next six months. Last year I saw him four times, and this will be my second visit this year. I don't think he really needs the sessions any longer, he seems to have realized the ridiculousness of his addiction and I think he has become a much stronger person for it. This visit I will meet with his therapist, and we will go from there.

Of course, I did remember to pack the strap, just in case I need it ;)


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