Chapter 3
Heather
Brains are weird. After being awake whirring with anxiety half the night, I’d eventually fallen asleep to strange erotic dreams about the lich. I dreamt he’d visited me in my room, and just him being there had sent my body into raptures of pleasure. I’d woken to an orgasm without him even touching me, and then fell back asleep into the same dream. We had danced around each other, and the closer we got the more pleasure I felt.
Now I was terrified about my first session with him, but still feeling warm with arousal. My dream orgasms were always different from anything I could achieve awake. Awake left me aching for more and unsatisfied. And that was with me taking care of myself. I hadn’t been with many men. But when I had, I’d never really been able to let go fully. There was always anxiety and tension. Am I making enough noise? Too much noise? Am I embarrassing myself? How does my body look? In dreams none of that matters. It was always easy and completely mind-blowing.
I wandered into the exercise yard. Lyla was already there. Gathered in front of her were a selection of the prisoners who had earned yard time. Prisoners had to prove themselves to be working hard at rehabilitation to be trusted in groups in the small yard. For a long time no prisoners had been allowed out here. It had stood empty, deemed too difficult to keep an eye on the monsters without the ability to lockdown the way you could inside. But Lyla had created this initiative and set it all up. She’d lobbied hard for it and annoyed the warden by going over his head. The yard was right in the center of the prison, and all the buildings and prison cell blocks surrounded it in a hexagon shape.
“Now stretch up!”
Lyla’s voice echoed, and all the monsters stretched above their heads. Right at the front, staring at Lyla, was a dragon. He stood on the back two of his 4 legs and stretched up, balancing with his wings. He was doing the same as all the other monsters. But something about him drew my gaze. There was an intensity about how he watched her. I saw her eyes flicking to him and her face flush.
There’s something going on there.
My heart clenched. She was one of the people sent here by the seer, given a path to encounter their fated mate. The seer had only said one thing to me when I saw her.
“Your fated mate is already dead. Follow your heart wherever it wants to take you.”
It was hard to explain to people the grief you feel for someone you’ve never met but was supposed to be important. For a life that I daydreamed about but would never happen. For wishing that someone would come to save me, but having to save myself.
“Downward dog.”
All the monsters in front of me planked and then stuck their asses in the air. Rows of monsters, a lot of whom were only wearing loincloths or furs and didn’t have the same body hang up issues of humans. Monster asses fully on display and all pointing at me. All sorts of strange genitals hanging down. I felt my face getting hot. I was probably bright red. I saw Lyla looking over at me and smirking. I stifled a laugh and ran back inside. Lack of self-consciousness indeed. Maybe yoga was good for the mind after all.
I reached my therapy room just in time to pull out the new blankets I had ordered, and tucked them around the client chair. They formed a sort of pink, lavender and yellow fluffy chair cocoon. I tucked another yellow one around myself. I wanted my client to see me being okay with being cozy and comfortable. Maybe that way he wouldn’t want to drain me dry and eat my soul. Could pastels save your life? I hoped so.
As the clock ticked closer and closer to the start of the session, my breathing got shallower and shallower. It felt like I was waiting for my execution. A lamb to the slaughter. I was all for rehabilitation, but was putting us at risk like this worth it? I reached behind me to the collar control tucked in my chair. I let my hand rest on it for comfort. A memory of the dream I’d had flitted through my brain. Warmth crept up my body.
For gods’ sake. Being aroused by the thought of your client isn’t any better than having an anxiety attack. You haven’t even met him, weirdo.
Voices sounded outside the door. My heart began hammering.
You are going to fuck this up.
The door opened, and I felt like I was going to be sick. It was time to paste on my therapist mask. The expression that was all caring and concern and not self-absorbed panic. I watched as the lich entered the room. A black robe covered most of his body, and a skeletal head nestled in the hood. He seemed to almost have a veneer of skin. But it was very translucent, and I could see his skull clearly through it. My head got very light, like I might be about to pass out. He looked exactly like he had in my dream.
“Sit down,” the guard barked at him.
The lich obeyed and sat gently amongst the blankets in the chair. Pastel fluff surrounded the menacing figure. It almost made me laugh. He peered at me, a dull blue light emanating from his eye sockets. The guard flashed me a pitying glance and left the room. I had to restrain myself from begging him to stay.
I’m going to die. I’m going to die. Fuck. Help me.
The lich’s head tilted.
“Are you okay?”
I stopped breathing.
Am I okay? What?
“You seem to have very strong emotions in your energy field right now.”
No kidding, pal.
“Oh. I’ve just never met a lich before.”
“And?”
I knew it was best to set a precedent of honesty and trust in the counseling room.
“You are… intimidating.”
“As are you.”
My brain spluttered to a halt, and for a brief moment, it was strangely quiet in my head. There was nothing but confusion.
“What, me? Intimidating? How?”
I knew that in some cases clients could find their therapists intimidating. But that was more common in humans than with monsters. I could count on one hand the number of monster clients who’d had any feelings like that with me. And they weren’t monsters that had ended up in prison.
“You are a wonderful storm of energy. I’ve never seen such absolute perfection.”
Is this him telling me that my life energy will taste good? Oh gods, he really is going to eat me. This is the worst compliment. Should I hit the button for his collar? Is it too soon to react?
I wanted to say something. To sound bold and confident. To let him know that the guards would be in the room in a moment if he tried anything. But my mouth remained still. I was frozen in my seat. I couldn’t move an inch.