Blog / Review Tour ~Therapist~ Jaden Wilkes

Therapist

by Jaden Wilkes

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**Trigger warning. This novel contains situations of perversity and dubious consent. It is not a love story, but more of a journey through a few short days in the life of a madman. What you see is not always what you get, reality is altered through his eyes and sometimes there is no happily ever after.

 

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SYNOPSIS:

I am a sociopath. 

I know this because I diagnosed myself.

I have a PhD in Clinical Psychology from a very prestigious university.

I am charming, attractive, and you probably want to sleep with me.

I take what I want, when I want, and I enjoy picking the most tragic of all my patients to experiment with.

I have no remorse, I am unrelenting in my pursuit of tragedy, and I am about to meet my match.

Her name is not important, I am only allowed to call her Mistress. She is a femme fatale, a patient, and now an obsession.

She will destroy me, I will do anything to get inside of her.

I can already feel her inside of me.

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EXCERPT:

As I approach my office, I am hit with a familiar scent. Cigarette smoke. An earthy, fragrant smell that tickles the edge of my memory. I know this brand from somewhere, but I don’t know where. 

I follow my nose down the short hallway to my private area and open my door. 

Smoke hangs heavy in the air, clouds of it billow away from me as I enter. I cut a path through to find out who fucking dares to pollute my office like this. 

“Shut the door, Alexandre,” a smooth female voice announces as I enter my space. I turn and see a figure seated on the couch, a halo of pure white smoke envelops her head and she exhales a languid breath that lingers as she speaks. “We need to talk.” 

I don’t know why, but I obey. I shut the door, turn back again and look at her. She seems familiar; I think I’ve seen her before. She’s wearing a cherry red cocktail dress, dangerously high black leather heels and elbow length white silk gloves. Her hair is black and falls in waves around her face; her eyes are just as dark. I stare into them and wonder if they ever end. 

“Who are you and how did you get in here?” I demand and walk to the window. “Please put out your cigarette, this is a no smoking office,” I continue and slide the glass open. 

“I don’t want to, I feel more comfortable with a cigarette in my hand,” she purrs and smiles at me. Her lips are dark red and her teeth are perfect, white and straight. She’s an incredibly beautiful woman. “Think of it as part of my…treatment.” 

“Why are you here this early? Who scheduled you? And once again, how did you get in?” I demand again. She laughs and leans back on the couch, her long legs stretch out in front of her, emphasizing their perfect shape. 

She doesn’t answer, but says, “Doctor, I believe I have an urgent issue we need to address. Please,” she gestures towards my desk, “have a seat.” She draws one last breath from her cigarette, exhales as I sit and butts it out on the bottom of her shoe. Red, Louboutins. In a flash I remember where I’ve seen her. Just last weekend at the restaurant. She was there, was she watching me? 

I take my seat. She doesn’t seem like the type I want to argue with, at least not until I get to know her. I decide to go along with her little game and give her the illusion of being in control until I can determine how she needs to be treated. “Well? What is this about?” I ask and set my satchel down on the floor next to my chair. 

She takes the cigarette butt and flicks it onto the floor at her feet. She leans back again and looks me up and down, landing on my face, her own a mask of disapproval. “You have been a very, very wicked boy, Alexandre,” she says, her voice still a purr. She has the slightest accent and draws out the last part of my name with a sexy drawl. It’s not Russian, Eastern European perhaps? Middle Eastern? I can’t tell, and with her ambiguous dark features, I couldn’t put a finger on her ethnicity either. She’s beautiful and a complete conundrum. 

“Why would you say that, Miss…what did you say your name is?” I ask her, leaning across the desk. I forgot to give the surface a swipe yesterday afternoon and it still carries the slightest pungent scent of the sex that happened on it. A gentle nudge, a reminder of the wicked things I have done. 

“I didn’t,” she says and smiles. She almost moves in slow motion as if underwater, elegant and purposeful. “I’ve been watching you, Alexandre, and I’ve seen you get up to all kinds of terrible things.” 

“What kinds of things?” I ask her, deciding to continue engaging in her little delusion until I know more about her. 

“Things to women, vulnerable women,” she says and raises an eyebrow. “Patients, women you pick up in bars, online…you are very busy and very wicked.” 

“How do you know this?” I ask her, feeling rather uncomfortable at this particular line of accusation. I’m very careful with my activities, especially with patients. “Have you been following me?” 

“Not following, but watching. They’re very different thing. I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, you know,” she tells me and watches my reaction. 

“What is your name?” I demand again, feeling that familiar sharp prick of anger rising behind my eyes. 

“My name is unimportant. You may call me Mistress.” 

“Mistress?” I repeat and laugh, “I don’t think it’s appropriate to be calling you that. Now please tell me your name so I have something to call you.” 

She leans forward on the couch, crosses her ankles and stares me down. After a moment or two of uncomfortable silence, I realize I have to capitulate to get anywhere with her. 

I shuffled a few papers on my desk, look back at her and say, “Fine, Mistress it is. Now why are you here…Mistress?” 

She licks her lips and leans back again, extends her beautiful legs and folds her hands on her lap. She is perfection and she knows it. That irritates me somehow and yet I can’t help but hang on her every word. The anticipation of her reply is coursing through my veins. 

“I already told you,” she says in her low, melodic voice, “I am here because you have been wicked. I am here to punish you.” 

I’m not that into BDSM. I like to tie people up and I am the consummate Dominant man if it comes right down to it…but the way she says it, in the mysterious accent, sends a thrill down my spine. I lean farther across the desk, look her in the eyes and say, “How are you planning on punishing me?”

 

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This is not a Romance. No Love Story. No HEA.
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5 Roses – Dark – Gritty – Mind-Thriller – Twisted Unique Writing
Dr. Alexandre Dane is a very twisted albeit absolutely gorgeous alpha male psychologist.  He is a highly sought after in his unconventional treatments for women whom been through some hellish pasts.  There is a method to his madness – treating these women the exact same was they have been treated seems to play into Alexandre’s sick, twisted and manipulative sexual kicks.   Alexandre is a sexual deviant who thrives on his patients most vulnerable and painful humiliating atrocious acts in the past.  He is a true sociopath and I believe he is about to meet his match.
“I like them to go through all the emotions I am incapable of.  My fetish is humanity, and I want to drain my balls into the sticky, hot mess of feelings that I bring up in the bitches stupid enough to open their bodies to me.”  ~Dr. Alexandre Dane
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5 – Hearts – No Hero Here
Sometimes I do feel for this devil in disguise, at times his flashbacks show sharps memories from his childhood that are a bit disturbing at times and make me cringe and sorta want to reach out to him.  His father was a distant, alcoholic womanizer who used Alexandre as a cover.  His mother was also distant emotionally and mentally although somehow I get the impression she was not so distant physically.  I believe she was a creeper who damaged her son’s psyche from the early stages of puberty on up until his adulthood.
“Slapping pinching red fingernails forcing me to sit for hours until it hurts.  I can feel her long fingers wrapping around me, touching me and whispering, ‘Nobody will ever love you like mommy does.’  ~Alexandre
Still Dr. Dane does have someone, his Go-To if you will, someone that is always there for him to talk to, someone that truly listens to him.  Jane seems to be his exact opposite, she is attractive but so very plain, yet she is always there for him when he needs her.  At times Alexandre thinks this would be his ultimate trophy wife to stave off the vicious rumors that are circulating in his office and among his prestigious colleagues.
“Have I been blind this entire time?  Fumbling through the darkness unable to really connect to another human being when it might have been simple human touch I was seeking all this time?” ~Alexandre
“I know how you are and I know how we would be together.  I would always be chasing you.  Living in your shadow and wondering who you’re with when you’re not with me.” ~Jane
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5 – Dastardly Dubious Consensual and Non-Consensual SEX!
And so we meet a woman who will be Dr. Dane’s downfall!  She is the exact replica of him only in a woman form.  She has long legs encased in black stockings, a very short, tight fitting cherry red cocktail dress, elbow length white evening gloves and wearing elegant black strappy heels.  Her cherry red lips are smoking a cigarette and Alexandre is entranced and in lust with her immediately.  She will show him exactly what he has been doing to others tenfold, he will call her MISTRESS.
“I want to taste her mouth, I want to slide my tongue in between those lips and suck the nicotine from her moist insides.  I’m not a smoker, but my body craves her taste.”  ~Alexandre
“Your intention all along was to please yourself.  I am simply showing you what happens to very wicked boys.”  ~Mistress
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I wonder will you all shed a tear for Dr. Dane?  Does a teardrop fall for those women in his therapy experiments?  Do you have a tear left for poor old plain Jane?  I wonder if you will feel as I did when I finished this brilliant psycho traumatic mind binder.  I’m sure my mind has been bent, busted, and completely blown!

Thank you Jaden Wilkes, you wicked, wicked wacky woman!  I loved every drop you wrote!

 

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