Intimate Matters: A Consultation with Dr. Éclat

“Take a seat.”

The moment you enter my consulting room, I notice your shoulders tense slightly. You’re trying to appear relaxed, but your hands betray a certain nervousness. That’s nothing unusual. People rarely talk so openly about sexuality — least of all with an attractive woman in a white coat.

I smile and open your file. “What brings you here today?”

At first, you hesitate. Then you cautiously tell me about a problem that has been occupying your thoughts for some time: your mind is constantly preoccupied with sex. The arousal comes unbidden, distracts you in everyday life, and makes it difficult for you to relax. Especially around confident, dominant women. That’s why your family doctor referred you to my practice, saying that I specialise in “unusual cases.”

“You’re embarrassed about this, aren’t you?”

You give the slightest nod.

“Don’t worry. You can be honest here.”

Inside, I smile, intrigued by what is about to unfold. Is my patient today attracted to tall, tight leather boots? Does he also dream of finally letting go, of being bound and taken by a mistress? Perhaps even humiliated, in one way or another?

Many people believe an examination only begins when vital signs are taken or clothes are removed. I see it differently. It begins the moment I ask my first question.

I’m interested in what happens inside your head. Which fantasies keep coming back? What do you secretly dream about? Are there desires you’ve never voiced to anyone?

In everyday life, you’re used to making decisions. Taking responsibility. Keeping control. In my consulting room, you’re allowed to let all of that go for a while. In these rooms, I give the instructions. All you have to do is follow.

As you answer, I watch you closely. Your breathing changes. You hold my gaze for a moment too long — or avoid it altogether. Your answers grow quieter. More honest.

Of course, my questions are focused on the matter at hand. But I wouldn’t be a very good practitioner if I weren’t also curious — even a little voyeuristic.

“Do you actually find it arousing to tell me about this?”

Almost every time, that’s when this wonderful silence descends. You hold your breath for a moment. Caught!

“Right now, as you’re telling me how much dominant women turn you on… do you actually have an erection?”

My gaze drops towards your lap. You smile awkwardly, feeling the blood rushing into your penis. Yes, I enjoy this moment — making you blush and playing with your arousal.

A thorough medical history sometimes calls for a few little aids, too. I place various objects on the table — including a thermometer, a collar, a chastity cage, and latex gloves.

“Just tell me what’s going through your mind.”

Perhaps your gaze lingers on one of the objects for a moment longer. Perhaps you blush. Perhaps you try not to let anything show. But I notice exactly what draws your attention.

I smile. “Interesting.”

Then I close your file, stand up, and gesture calmly towards the examination table.

“Now I’d like to see for myself. Please undress down to your underwear.”

For a moment, you hesitate. Not for long — just long enough for me to notice your little struggle with yourself. Then you carefully set your jacket, shirt, and belt aside.

“Very good.”

I step closer and place the stethoscope against your chest.

“Take a deep breath.”

Your heart is beating faster than I would expect in a healthy man. I wonder if that has anything to do with my consultation.

Afterwards, I ask you to stand up. I slowly walk around you, observing your posture, your breathing, the tension in your shoulders and neck.

“You’re terribly tense.”

My fingertips matter-of-factly assess your muscles as they slowly move down your body.

“Try to let go. You’re used to keeping control, aren’t you?”

Your pronounced erection is clearly visible as you stand there in your shorts in front of me. My hand then slips beneath the fabric, and I assess just how hard you are.

“Your physical response is consistent with what you’ve told me. You’re exceptionally responsive to stimulation. At the same time, you’re constantly trying to control your urges. That takes energy. The good news is that this is something we can work on.”

I take my seat behind the desk, open your file once more, and begin formulating your treatment plan.

“For the next seven days, I’m prescribing abstinence.”

I look up.

“No exceptions.”

A barely perceptible smile crosses my face.

Under the treatment recommendations, I add a second point: fantasy journal.

“Every time a fantasy occupies your thoughts, write it down for me. Don’t judge it. Don’t censor it. Just observe it. At your next appointment, we’ll discuss together what we want to do with it.”

You take your paperwork and stand up.

“Until next week?” you ask cautiously.

I lean back and smile. Of course you’ll be back. After all, we’ve only just begun.