Ron smirked like a giggling school boy at the wordplay in play with the word Therapist. He was silly enough, observant enough and just enough to see “The Rapist” on the sign.
Ron was ordered by the court to attend weekly therapy sessions. His proclivities led him first to arrest, court and then punishment. His smirking was at today’s session, the first in Southville.
His Therapist’s office was rather cleverly placed directly above his parole office, both of which sat snugly next to a local cafe. “The Legal Beagle Cafe” offered food, coffee, bonhomie and a poor choice in music. It satisfied the needs of the local legal fraternity, Police, criminals, the homeless, mentally challenged drug effected wanderers and those lucky to be allocated office space nearby.
Ron had dealt intimately and in many cases completely inappropriately with people in each one of these six categories. He himself could be described as being a member of five of them but he could not be thought of as a legal eagle.
Therapist appointment protocol varied on the Gold Coast, some offices were discrete, subtle and extra careful. Others didn’t seem to give a fuck. Ron sat with 15 people in the waiting room, waiting in the room that offered no room. Covid-19 required the patients to nearly bath in sanitiser, separate themselves and despite all human norms, not look at or talk to their fellow patients. The receptionists would call out the patients name and sometimes their reason for being in the waiting position. They were all sanitised, separated and extremely nervous. Rightly so.
One receptionist recognised Ron immediately, she recoiled in terror as he walked in and even more so when he started giggling. Ruth had experienced a dreadful interaction, an horrific event which led her to therapy. Oddly this treatment concluded with her being offered a job at reception. Ruth reluctantly checked Ron’s appointment details, logged him into the waiting list and left the front office to her colleague, while checking herself in the private employee only section.
Ruth had endured traumatic memories of her interaction with Ron. These had been less obvious and frequent until today.
She was working at a major hotel on the Gold Coast and while there she met Ron. The meeting was not as one would expect while at work. Ruth was tasked with cleaning guest rooms and in that role managed an allocated floor, trolley and supply cupboard. Ron was tasked with darting about filling supplies, on trolleys and in those cupboards. He decided that the cupboard on the 14th floor was quieter than others and oddly very sexy in its nature. Ron had hidden a number of men’s magazines in the storage locker. He enjoyed a quick glance, read and workout when he could manage it on the 14th.
The impact of Ruth’s unexpected arrival was a surprise to Ron, not just Ruth but a family of four who happened to be walking by in the corridor at that exact moment. The door flew back into the space as they do and the lights from the corridor and the cupboard offered a glow on Ron’s pleasure. He had a grasp on his dick like the mad wanker he was. His pants were at his ankles, his back bent while his dick was straight. Alarmingly aimed straight at Ruth, the door and the unwitting corridor audience. The timing was unfortunate and incredibly memorable.
To say that it got worse is an understatement, the mother screamed, the father stumbled and tripped over his own feet while Ron reached a tipping point of his own. His self driven orgasm was intense and the result was large in volume. The outcome of this vigorous exercise shot out at Ruth and landed on her chest. It was huge, a sticky mess, some of which fell off as Ruth started screaming. It fell onto her shoes and the carpet. The family had moved past the door and all were now screaming at the disgusting situation and Ron while offering sympathy towards Ruth. She had staggered back out into the corridor with Ron’s produce still clinging to her uniform. She fell to her knees and spread Ron’s mess even more.
The management responded very quickly and Ron was out, gone. His locker was steam cleaned and disinfected. Each floor’s lockers were searched and anywhere Ron was entrusted to be was also checked and cleaned. Ruth showered, changed and went home. She never returned to the Hotel, she could not face the cupboards, or the looks from fellow employees. The Hotel could not redeploy her so they paid her out and the matter became a matter no more.
Ron was sacked of course and the Police were called. An interesting fact was revealed while investigating this messy affair, Ron had been a Policeman. He was discharged from the Police 2 years prior for paying too much attention to himself at a highway patrol stop in a Police car. The car had a surveillance camera fitted as Ron’s self pleasuring was suspected. The camera footage was rather disgusting and many other officers required counselling after learning about the car they had been sitting in after Ron. Ron’s posting in Southville was not needed or wanted, he was quietly discharged. The matter was no longer a matter.
Ron had in fact been caught “dollygaging his bit” again in a most inappropriate way and place and this led to his recent arrest and subsequent punishment. He was self doodling on a bus. The driver and passengers witnessed his frenzied attack on his pant-less self. The bus was taking some old age pensioners to a major Gold Coast shopping centre. He’d spent 3 months in jail. This therapy regimen and ankle bracelet were part of his bail conditions.
Ruth had composed herself and returned to the reception counter. She looked at Ron and wondered if he remembered her. Ron did, he didn’t let on as he sank into his sanitised seat even further than the other patients in the waiting room. Ron wondered what the lady at reception had told the Therapist? He’d not had an appointment at this office yet and didn’t know what to expect. He’d expect the worst. It was to come.
Ron was distracted by the sign again and thought this distraction was clever. More distraction led him to think about the coffee he’d bought from the “The Legal Beagle Cafe” on the way to this appointment. He liked the coffee and loved the idea of sitting in the courtyard and loving himself. He’d do that on the way home he thought.
The Therapist distracted Ron has he called out his name and his reason for being there. “Ron the Serial Wanker” Ron are you here. Yes the receptionist had said something.
Ron got up and walked ever so awkwardly into the office. His humiliation had only just began. It would get much worse, cut even deeper, all aiming to change Ron’s ways. Ron would be a hard nut to crack.