| BATTLE IN THERAPY by James (jimjunior2001@yahoo.com) “Doc, I got a problem”, our heroine said as she laid on the couch in the therapist’s office. She looked up at the ceiling, clutched her hands together over her middle, and stated what was wrong. “I have kick-ass withdrawal.” The doctor looked up from his notes, and said, “Withdrawal from what?” “I said what it was from.” “You said ‘kick-ass’ withdrawal”. “Yes.” “So, you have a big withdrawal from what?” “I see. You think I have a kick-ass withdrawal from something. No, I have withdrawl from kicking ass.” There was a pause before the doctor said “I see. Explain.” “You see, doc, when I was seventeen years old, I learned self-defense. Then one night, in an alley, I successfully handled three big guys who were trying to hurt me. The feeling was so exhilarating, and I had the opportunity to have it many times after that until I was in my late twenties. Now, here I am, 36 years old, and I have not been able to hurt a guy in so long, and I feel so empty.” “Really?” “Yes, really.” There was some silence, so our heroine looked over at the doctor. Just then, she noticed something. She looked at his middle and saw he had a boner. She could tell she was arousing him. She then decided that if she could not kick ass, she could at least have this other type of fun. She sat up, and leaned forward, arms over knees, hands together in the front. She tugged on her sleeves a little, so they were now a third of the way between her wrist and elbow. “How do you think it felt, doc, when I turned their ankles and broke them? How do you think my attacker on the beach feels, who, to this day, still suffers vision problems from the eye gouge I gave him? All those big muscles useless.” The boner was getting bigger. The left sleeve got pushed up a little closer to the elbow. “Talk about muscles being useless. Once I was fighting a professional wrestler, and despite, all his big body, he could not shake me off him as I strangled him and caused him to be short of breath, and eventually, to pass out. Then, I kicked his door down to call the police. Bodily and property damage!” Now the right sleeve got pushed up. “I once caused permanent hearing damage to a football player. I also once broke the arm of a man about your age.” The left sleeve was now pulled up over the elbow. “In one day, I had two guns pointed at me. and both those guys, I broke their hands. I also seriously damaged the hand of a guy who was trying to pull my hair. When he tried from the front, the back, both times, his poor hand got hurt pretty badly! Am I arousing you?” The doctor dropped his notepad and shook his head up and down. Our heroine finally pushed her right sleeve over the elbow, and holding her arm perpendicular to her waist, clenched her first. As she did so, there was an audible sound of knuckles cracking. “I put an expensive dent in a guy’s brand new Ferrarri with this.” she said. Releasing and then clenching again, she said, “This baby also pushed through 350 pounds of fat to cause a man to be short of breath for several minutes. It also knocked out cold a bodybuilder who was rushing at me full-speed. He could not get up afterwards.” She then got up and sat on the therapist’s lap. Putting her right arm around his neck and holding onto his right hand with her left to maintain balance, she proceeded to tell him one more story to push him over the edge. “Now imagine this. You are a high school student and you idolize this professional wrestler. You think the world of him, you use him in every answer to every question you are asked, you use his name in every essay you wrote, his theme is your ringtone, and your screensaver has a picture of him. You and your buddies talk about his doings all the time and recently, he even came to town to do an exhibition. Got all that?” The therapist nodded his head rapidly up and down. “Good. Now your female teacher comes in, like I did here, rolls up her sleeves, and begins to tell you how she defeated your precious idol in the ring. You tell them how you did a tomeonage throw on him, followed by a kneeing in the chest, a punch, and then a side kick. Your students wonder how you do all this, seeing how you are much smaller than their hero. You tell them about your speed, reflexes, and martial arts training. You then continue your story, and tell them about a judo chop to his neck, followed by a few more kicks, and another punch. They smile a little for a moment when you say that despite all this, he kept coming, but then that smile goes away when you tell them about using the ropes to give you momentum to leap into him, flip over him, and then proceed to strangle him unconscious, hanging around his upper back. Then, for good measure, you tell them you broke his door, and then called the cops, and that he would be going away for some time. You look at your students and while you maintain a level of composure and professionalism, deep down you feel so gitty, and satisfied. They are experiencing girl power for themselves, maybe not directly, but it in a vivid way, nonetheless. Like you are today.” Jill looked down at the therapist and could see was breathing heavily. The images had gotten to him, and now they were combined with her being on top of him. She could do whatever she wanted. However, she decided he had enough and got up off him. “Doctor, you have definitely earned your $150/hr today.” she said, pushing her sleeves back down and getting her coat. “Allowing me to relive those moments has done me some good.” After she zipped up her coat, she leaned over to him, and said “And you, too.” She kissed him on the forehead, put her check on his desk, and left. On her way home, her prayers were answered. Walking on the sidewalk, a large man came out of an alley to try to mug her. He was almost a foot taller than her, and weighed over 200 pounds. He looked at her, and she looked back directly at him. Needless to say, he was focused on her face and purse, and did not notice her right leg raise a little and then her foot come down at an angle right on top of toes. The pain was excruciating. The big man let out a cry and he fell to the ground, holding his right foot in agony. “That was a little move I learned called the toe crusher.” our heroine said. “I learned it from the movies.” As she left the scene, she thought to herself, “That’s more like it.” After our heroine left the scene, the hobbled man tried to get up, but was not successful until he received assistance from, of all people, the therapist, whose office was nearby, and who, too, was on his way home. “Thank you for doing that for me, son. One of my clients needed that to be cured.” “Man, dad, I didn’t think a girl could hurt me so bad.” The therapist and father paused for a second and then said, “Neither did I, son, neither did I. Girl power is here to stay.” |