Christopher O’Halligan Erotic Story Competition Story 6

The LEDs on the wall read “Yellowknife Bay Decontamination [OPEN]” and Addison stepped through the sterile decontamination chamber. Toe to tip, every crevice on his body flooded with radiation. The fluorescent lighting gave a flicker before the sound of an abrupt buzzer spoiled the mood. “Step forward over the biological processor and cover your genitals,” ordered a man in a blue jumpsuit stitched with a badge reading “Staff”.

“…and don’t forget the cover your genitals part.” Addison obliged, stumbling a couple steps with his balls cupped. The LEDs morphed into a red combination reading [CLOSED] and the door automatically shut behind him. Walking past the metal grating he peered into a seemingly endless square pit in the floor.

“Stop there and do not look down,” Staff barked. Staff pressed a button on the wall’s control panel and a tornado of warm air whirled from underneath the grating for a moment and then disappeared just as quickly as it came. The green light above the door was illuminated again and Addison crept forward in his birthday suit.

“You know the rules,” mumbled Staff as if he’d given this”You know the rules,” mumbled Staff as if he’d given this speech a thousand times. “Do as your told, stay within your purchased package’s bounds, and remember that we’re watching. No funny business. Any or all footage obtained during your session can and will be used against you in a hearing of counselors if any guidelines or laws are broken. Yellowknife Bay Counseling Center reserves this right under Yellowknife Bay Bill 430F sub section 8. Do you understand your rights and wish to proceed with this contract?”

“I do,” replied Addison.

“Blow into this meter,” said Staff holding the mouthpiece up to his lips. One hand steadied the mouthpiece while Addison blew and the other still protecting himself. The door opened and Staff stepped aside offering some advice,

“Good luck, buddy. Try to think of your grandmother or something non-sexual to get you through, ya know.”

Addison walked past muttering, “You think about your grandmum when fucking women?”

The door between the two shut promptly.

The room had a calm cleanliness to it. There was a chair similar to something you’d see in a dentist office towards the center. The room was gorgeously decorated with classical impressionist paintings from the 21st century. They were probably knock-off posters but the golden frames were expensive enough to lend a feeling of sophistication. The office was immaculately kept with completely white walls and white tile immaculately kept with completely white walls and white tile floors as if the room was over-compensating for something.

One painting was a coat of arms reading “The Garter Belt Society, Salubre Corpus, Salus animæ.” Healthy Body, Healthy Soul. A union of medical practitioners, unionized to fight discrimination against the ill. Found in our sexual revolution of 2199 The Garter Belt Society was created to support our new intellectual, emotional, and sexual understanding. Some people are afraid of themselves, of their bodies, and because of this they wish for no-one to succeed where they have indefinitely chosen to fail through repression. It led to counseling centers combating misconceptions with extravagantly expensive medical facilities and doctoral programs. It was all quite breathtaking but the colors weren’t very flattering for a naked chubby alcoholic.

Addison took a seat in the chair fixed in the middle of the large corner-less room next to a small white desk with a white lamp and steel doctor’s chair. He twiddled his thumbs and took a deep breath, he was dangerously close to allowing himself to feel feelings. Luckily the waiting room bar had delivered his old fashioned whiskey prior to his arrival, sitting on a small white tray on a small white coaster on the small white desk next to the white chair.

Addison took the drink and stirred it slowly, mixing the cherry with the orange and whiskey. He pressed the orange against the glass with the cocktail straw, and then the cherry against the glass with the cocktail straw, and then the cherry in the same methodical manner while slowly sipping. He choked the life out of the orange, an act of thievery because he wanted it as his own. He loathed its ignorance and wanted nothing more than to trickle it down his throat and use it for his own selfish betterment.

The music’s volume decreased and the lighting was slowly reduced with the exception of the tiny lights fixed to the upper part of each golden frame. The door quietly cracked open and in walked a dark blond women of almost 6 feet wearing a smile to light up the now dim room.

“Addison, it’s good to see you back,” she said softly closing the door behind her.

She took a seat at the white desk and made some notes on a white piece of paper on a white clipboard with a white pen. She was wearing a white, tight-cut nursing uniform with white stockings and white heels. She peered up from her white glasses and “How’s your sleeping pattern?” came through her red lipstick.

“I’ve been attempting the exercises to help me remember my dreams but it’s not working, but I am…” Addison sat up slightly and stuttered on his words for a moment as the caretaker crossed her legs and a bit of her flank was revealed, the white stockings stopped at a garter belt near her thigh.

“I’m sleeping though, and that helps. So do the visits. I feel it’s helping to get through my work day…” His words stumbled forward, “…yes, much easier with something to look forward to. I know you say that dreaming is an important part of the human experience, sure, but not my human experience. I’m not thinking as much of Julie anymore either.”

“You should continue the dream therapy. For me, for science,” she said.

“For science, ” he replied, “but there’s no such thing as a good dream. Nightmares are nightmares and anything else leaves you disappointed when you wake up.”

The caretaker leaned in, running a finger through his hair and confidently stated, “If you’re feeling red don’t forget the crisis line is available. That’s what we’re here for.”

Alternative methods for receiving therapy between sessions is encouraged and the price sheet is always printed on the back page of the updated session syllabus and course material you’re given every week. The caretaker stood up, paced the room and read from her clipboard.

“It says here that you recently had a relationship end and that it was partly due to sexual problems. Our initial studies show your average climax within 5 minutes of penetration. After approximately 10 ounces of whiskey your average increased to a 2 hours and on one occasion an impressive but frustrating 4 hours. Your partner, her needs unfulfilled, suggested you seek treatment.”

“In all fairness, doctor,” Addison replied, “I’ve gotten much better recently.”

“Yes, Addison, as we discussed it’s all about moderation. Tell me, how many drinks did you have at the bar?”

“I think I’ve successfully hit the B.A.C. we last discussed, I’m sure the test will show that.”

The caretaker turned toward him and put the clipboard down beside the reclining chair. She leaned over the chair and looked at him with her pilot-light hazel eyes, exposing her cleavage a bit.

“You’re actually a bit under,” she said before delicately placing her top lip on his bottom lip, “But yes, you’re making improvements.”

She applied gentle pressure and using her lips, not teeth, gently tugged his lower lip toward her and stood up. “Addison you must learn to stay calm under pressure. Take another drink.”

He took another drink. She very slowly started unbuttoning the remaining buttons of the uniform while speaking.

“Too much of anything is bad, it doesn’t matter what it is. That’s why it’s called ‘too much’. Addison you can have anything in the world if you learn to balance. We will find your middle ground both physically and emotionally, together.”

The caretaker finished her last button exposing her flat stomach and white bra, peeling off her top and slowly clonking her heels back towards Addison. Her eyes shot a glance at his lower half.

“You’re getting excited too quickly, fix your posture and take another drink. Close your eyes and take deep breaths.” “Remind me again of the Foster technique,” she said.

“Arousal, oral stage, first intercourse, oral stage, final intercourse, and optional oral stage.”

“Good,” she replied. “You’ve been reading the material. Since we only have so much time for our session today we’ll focus more on final intercourse.”

Addison felt her lips touch his neck and he opened his eyes, she was unzipping the bottom half of the white skirt. The caretaker climbed onto the chair and placed herself according to the knee rests on either side of him, positioning herself on-top and facing him.

“Addison, pay attention, this part is important. Remember your suppression technique and take another drink.” Addison took a drink and closed his eyes, she slowly swayed her hips against his like magnetic waves or atoms in a constant state of flux. He unhooked her bra. That’s one thing Addison was proud of, if there were a competition he would be bra-unhooking champion of the world. Well, that and his 4 hour session. The problem is that nobody wants to sleep with a drunk every night.

She threw the white bra aside and whispered “It’s about reduction in anxiety levels, control of heart rate, and improving your pelvis muscles through repetitive therapy improving your pelvis muscles through repetitive therapy sessions.”

Expensive therapy sessions, he thought.

“Addison, we’re going to begin today’s therapy with breathing exercises. Page 31, section 4 of the booklet on meditation. Begin your breathing patterns and relax your muscles.”

She leaned forward slightly placing her hands on either side of Addison’s head rest which acted as leverage and gave her a longer stroke.

“I hereby consent to this therapeutic session of sound mind and body as a licensed medical professional under Yellowknife Bay Bill 430F sub section 2. Addison Yager, do you consent?” “I consent.”

Her white panties had ties on either side as to allow for removal from any position. She stopped grinding, untied the two knots, and in one motion pulled them out from under her while maneuvering her hips in just the right way above him so he could enter her. He pondered how the doctors remained so tight with so much experience. (in case you’re wondering, it’s kegels)

“If you feel yourself slipping away clinch the muscles you’ve been working on, I’ll slow down.” Addison took 2 deep breaths and clinched. She slowed and took smaller strokes, arching her back into face on the uptick.

He focused on his teachings and took the long breath of the pattern and unclenched. She sped up again, rocking her torso in pattern and unclenched. She sped up again, rocking her torso in a swirling motion as he he ran his thumb over her right hip bone and inner leg.

The way she was forged felt like an unconquerable respite comparable to Fiji. He was a cartographer, to note the smallest details and moles, every valley and crest. Cartographers realize women are not objects a man can claim, but then again, neither are mountains.

He had become lost in the moment admiring the caretaker, he wasn’t breathing or meditating. He was consumed with flesh and the intimate warmth that spread from thighs, to his hips, to his heart, and eventually his entire body. Addison could no longer contain himself, he let out a moan and his body contracted violently as the caretaker slowed and ran her hands down his chest. She rocked gently for a moment and leaned in.

“Don’t worry Addison, you’ll get there.”

She looked at the clock on the wall mentally noting the time and sat (mostly) still as she went over the positives and negatives of this week’s session while they waited for him to soften. She climbed down from the reverse stirrups, grabbing a clean white towel from the bottom shelf of the clean white desk and wiped them both down while lecturing.

“7 minutes, 3 minutes have been added over 6 weeks of sessions. You’re coming along quite nicely. It looks like we won’t have to explore numbing agents as long as you continue won’t have to explore numbing agents as long as you continue your progress but you have to keep making progress.”

The caretaker put on a robe and started scribbling on the clipboard. She pressed a combination of keys on the wall’s panel display to signal the janitor in 10 minutes. She hands him a report, receipt, and homework material.

“Here is your legal paperwork for filing with the Chamber of Records and your individual recovery plan for this week. I’ll see you 7 days.”

She gave him a handshake and peck on the cheek before departing in her robe, leaving the white articles of clothes and 2 white towels strewn on the floor. Addison sat up and walked to the door on the opposite side as the lights were restored to their full glory. A small combination of LEDs outside the door turned green and read [OPEN].


This door led to a post-decontamination chamber and a place to collect his clothing before leaving.

Jon the nudist

Jon the nudist

Well, my name is Jon the Owner of You Only Wetter a 37-year-old, Poly practicing, Dom with two great kids. I am a happy busy internet geek with a love of all things Google and I love spending time sitting on the sofa watching the latest Dr. Who, Mythbusters or a movie. I am a nudist mostly at home but do like to go down to the beach and bare all or go for a little walk around some hidden woodland really would like to do the whole nudist holiday :)

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Christopher O’Halligan Erotic Story Competition Story 6

by Jon the nudist time to read: 15 min
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