chapter 2

Doctor Thrace loomed above Eric, who remained seated with his legs outstretched on the psychiatrist's sofa, the two of them alone in her office. Fairly tall in her own right, Dr. Thrace wore pointed and professional black heels, which further accentuated her height. As Eric's eyes followed her legs upwards, he could tell Dr. Thrace seldom skipped a day in her yoga and Pilates rhoutine; his stare lingering long past what was appropriate on her muscular yet feminine legs. In Eric's defense, any man would've been hard pressed not to stare at the short, but not "slutty short," pencil skirt, seemingly selected to highlight arguably her sexiest feature. A fitted blazer and matching blouse beneath hinted at a slender waist, which was complimented by a well-endowed, but proportional, pair of breasts.

"You must be Eric," Dr. Thrace pronounced with a warm smile that seemed somehow familiar.

"And you must be Dr. Thrace," Eric replied, shifting his weight forward to rise and greet her. In the process, a prominent roll of fat protruded forth over Eric's overly tight jeans and belt. This time it was Dr. Thrace's eyes who lingered on her patient's body longer than was appropriate. Eric, completely oblivious, failed to notice entirely and Dr. Thrace soon corrected herself.

Once on his feet, Eric clasped Dr. Thrace's hand in a formal introduction. An undeniable jolt of excitement surged through Eric as he felt the soft, smooth caress of Dr. Thrace's palm, albeit in a purely platonic manner. As the two conversed, Eric could not help but be drawn to the contours of her face. Full, pillowy lips upon a snowy white complexion. Dr. Thrace wore her long blonde hair up, fixed in place with a single pink filigree hair clip; a single stripe of pink amidst waves of shimmering gold. She gazed back at Eric with piercing eyes that glimmered emerald green, yet transitioned sharply to a ring of sapphire blue; a lush, wooded island encircled by the sea.

Upon completion of a few rounds of idle small talk, Dr. Thrace cut to the chase. "I understand from your referral that you may have a fetish, Eric. Is that right?"

"I'm not sure there's a MAY about it, Doctor. I definitely have a fetish."

"Just the same, I'll still need to confirm your self-diagnosis in order to better assess you as a patient. Would you mind if I ask you some questions?"

"Everything I say is confidential?" Eric confirmed.

"There are strict ethical rules and guidelines governing patient-therapist communications and relationships, Eric," Dr. Thrace reassured.

"So...confidential?"

"Short of you telling me you intend to hurt yourself or someone else, I couldn't tell anyone a thing even if I wanted to," Dr. Thrace assured, paraphrasing the professional rules of conduct for licensed psychiatric practitioners. "I could also pinky-swear, if that makes you feel better," she added with a generous dose of sarcasm.

Eric chuckled at Dr. Thrace's disarming demeanor and, for better or for worse, lowered his guard down considerably for the remainder of the session.

"Ask away."

"How long have you had fantasies involving fat or weight gain?"

"Fifteen years, give or take. They started when I was a teenager."

"Do these fantasies focus on yourself, or upon others gaining weight?"

Eric nearly stated it was solely himself, but, upon further reflection, he offered a more comprehensive answer. "I would say both, but increasingly the former, as opposed to the latter."

"How often do you have sexual thoughts or feelings that do NOT involve fat, or gaining weight?"

"You mean like thoughts about normal sex, Doctor?"

"In my practice, I try to avoid terms like 'normal,' which apply subjective classifications to amorphous thoughts and feelings. I merely asked you about sex that does not involve fat or weight gain. You used the word normal, Eric. I think the real question is whether YOU perceive a fat fetish as abnormal?"

"Is turning people's words against them a prerequisite for a PHD?" Eric rebuffed.

One might have perceived Eric's comment as rude, but Dr. Thrace saw his response for what it really was: a defense mechanism. "You know, its actually a required course. Did you major in using humor to deflect questions you'd rather not answer?"

Eric couldn't help but be charmed by Dr. Thrace's wit. "Just a minor."

Dr. Thrace laughed. After a momentary pause she followed with a question geared to the very heart of the issue. "I take it you already are at a point where you cannot achieve orgasm without your fetish?"

The question hit home, catching Eric off guard and unprepared with a snarky retort. Eric could only gesture affirmatively. If Dr. Thrace's supposition had not been true, Stephanie would not have been so adamant that Eric attend this consultation in the first place.

"Eric, I'd like to show you a series of images. When you see them, I want you to tell me whether you find the image gratifying, arousing, or otherwise appealing, in a purely sexual connotation."

"You want me to look at a picture and tell you if I find it sexy?"

"Yes. However, I'd also like you to note to what degree you find it sexy. Be it sexy, not sexy at all, or very sexy. Does that make sense?"

"Perfect sense, but how will you know if I'm telling the truth?"

"Well, I suppose I could hook you up to a penile plethysmograph, but why don't we try the easy way first?" Dr. Thrace enjoyed playing with this one.

"A what?!?"

"You can Google it later. Right now, lie back down and let's begin."

With that, Dr. Thrace tilted a computer monitor towards Eric and dimmed the room's lighting. Taking out a remote control from her desk drawer, Dr. Thrace connected the wireless receiver to her desktop and began a slideshow of images. With the first click, the screen swiped to an image of an older woman walking her dog on the sidewalk. There seemed to be nothing remotely provocative about it.

"Sexy or not sexy?"

"Umm....no! Not at all!"

"Relax, Eric. There aren't any trick questions and I'm not trying to suggest anything with the pictures. Let's put that first one down as a no and move on."

Another image emerged of what Eric might otherwise have presumed to be a female model, were it not taken with what looked like a cell-phone camera. The tanned brunette wore athletic garb, which complimented the woman's defined abs and otherwise pleasing aesthetics.

"I mean attractive, yes, but sexy or arousing?" Eric asked, almost as though he were attempting to qualify his answer.

"This isn't a pass-fail test. There's no right or wrong answers. You tell me."

"She's good looking, I definitely see it. Honestly, though, no. She doesn't really do it for me." An apologetic tone rang in Eric's voice, as if he were somehow ashamed he could not give the correct answer.

"I see....what about him?" Dr. Thrace asked.

The next slide was the prior picture's masculine equivalent. The image of the man was similar to the woman before, in that it evoked impressions of athleticism and was taken with mediocre image quality. He came complete with a six-pack, along with a buff, bulky upper body and arms.

Eric, perhaps a bit defensively in the presence of a woman he found so attractive, definitively shook his head from side-to side. "Totally back LGBT rights Doctor, but he's not really my cup of tea."

Dr. Thrace gave the slightest gesture of acknowledgment and followed with another slide. In the next picture, the same man changed markedly in physical appearance. His abs were replaced with a very noticeable spare tire, and the beginnings of a double chin sprouted in its wake. The man was still "bulky," his arms perhaps even larger than before. Yet a distinct layer of fat had settled in, totally obfuscating all semblance of the rigid definition found in the prior image. Hints of an incoming pot belly and love handles now seemed to define the man's waist, still shirtless and in similar pose.

The image caught Eric off guard again, but he remained forthright with Dr. Thrace. "Yes."

Dr. Thrace enjoyed toying with her patient and contemplated prodding Eric to elaborate on his answer. However, the next slide more than provided whatever follow-up was needed, with the same man appearing in a third amateurly captured image. This time he had gained a considerable amount of weight. In the second picture, the man might've been considered chubby, but in the third, he was outright fat. The six-pack abs were long gone, substituted for a large, ponderous belly, which sagged to the front as if the man were somehow pregnant. Moobs, thick love handles, combined with a pair of thighs that no doubt touched one another from top to bottom. The compilation of these three images was the epitome of "fit to fat."

"Yes. Very sexy."

"You found this third image in the progression more gratifying than the two immediately preceding images?" Dr. Thrace clarified.

"I did" Eric affirmed.

Dr. Thrace scribbled notes down noisily onto a yellow legal pad, the noise leading Eric to look away from the monitor's image momentarily. Eric had not meant to do so, but soon involuntarily found his eyes once again noticeably drifting to Dr. Thrace. Dr. Thrace said nothing, but gave her skirt a sharp tug downwards. Eric, unsure if he'd been caught in the act or not, jerked his eyes back to the monitor.

Dr. Thrace smirked, but made no comment. "What about HER now?"