Dary was reluctant to agree to a second day of subterfuge, but Aria secured his loyalty in the end. After leaving the shuttle hanger, she and Hansel went their separate ways. She immediately buried herself in her work because she wanted to forget her failure. Expedition equipment was a no-brainer for a planetary excursion of an E1 civilization wilderness.

That evening, she felt better about her work perhaps because of the mood levelers, but as the night marched on, she began to again question her ability to complete her secret mission. Perhaps her medication was starting to wane, which made sense as she was approaching the twenty-four hour mark, but she could not go to Doc to cure her now. She would need to care for herself again in order to be ripe for therapy.

She returned to her personal quarters late again. She showered, changed into her pajamas, and sluggishly reached for her clock with her two pills in hand. The pills rested between her fingers and lips just before she caught herself. If she wished to get her therapy tomorrow morning, she was going to need to help herself again tonight. If she took these pills, they would knock her out. Instead, she needed to venture out and find her primer first.

But there was not enough time. She had eight hours to sleep starting now. She reserved one hour tomorrow morning to speak to Doc prior to setting off again with Hansel. If only she could somehow be more efficient...wait.

She quickly redressed herself and left her quarters. She waved and smiled at all the delicious distractions as they scurried hurriedly off to where she did not care. She had an idea. Her next stop on her tour-de-sex was the very man who made all this healing possible.

She knocked on Doc’s door.

“Oh, Ms. Pantel!” he said as he opened. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“Hi, Doc. I came back for a dose of treatment.”

He waved her inside his waiting room and closed the door behind her. “Is that so? I'm so glad to hear you took my instructions seriously. To be honest, I didn’t think I’d see you again based on the general vibe of our last appointment.”

She walked over to a frame hung on the wall. It was an oil painting of an ocean. She noticed the tiny layers of paint, overlapping and creating texture to what appeared as a flat image from a distance. “This piece. I like it.”

“Oh, thank you.” He chuckled and stepped close beside her. He was a big man and she felt his body heat radiating off of him. “It’s one of my originals.”

“You did this yourself?” She reached out to touch it, but he gently caught her wrist.

“Please. The paint is quite delicate. If you touch it, it might start to chip off.”

His soft hands were telling. Like her, he must have grown up with luxury. It made sense, after all, as he was a product of Earth. Different from her in some ways while similar in others, this connection made her feel safe around him.

“You know, Doc, I feel like this painting is kind of like me.” She lowered her hand and instead leaned her face closely so that she could see the peaks and valleys, the folds of the oils and the flicks of the brush. “Layer upon layer, you only see the uppermost crust. A viewer, like me, only sees the final product. It would be easy, before really getting in close and seeing the groundwork laid below it, to discount the story of this painting as exactly what I can see on the surface.”

Doc crept his face close to hers. Aria’s face grew hot. The back of her neck began to tingle.

“But they’d be missing all the hard work underneath which this beautiful picture built upon to look so stunning,” he said.

She let her eyes drift to the side. Doc was completely focused on the art. Was he not intentionally trying to get her rockets roaring? Because if he was not, then there was something inside her chest that was reading this all wrong, but she needed to start steering it right.

“So,” she turned to Doc. They almost bumped noses. “Ah, sorry.” She backed away and covered her face. She wondered if he could tell she was flush. Why did she hide the fact? Maybe it would be better to show him, but for some reason she was embarrassed. “I just wanted to drop in and get that therapy you were talking about.”

“Good! So this means you were able to find a suitable partner today?” He reached for the booklet on sexual therapy in his pocket. Apparently he had been doing some extra reading.

“Well...uh, I did find someone last night. Does that still count?”

He flipped through the booklet. “Hmm. I’m not sure that it does, I’m sorry to say. Ah, here it is.” He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry Ms. Pantel. Your therapy must be within twelve hours of your release and while you are still under the influence of your mood levelers. The combo is really what allows us to make exponential progress.

The mood levelers! She had not thought of how that might affect her plan. It seemed she would be unable to blast two asteroids with one laser tonight. “Ah, that’s really too bad,” she sighed. “It was just that I thought maybe by coming here tonight I’d be able to have my primer and my treatment all at once.”

The booklet slipped out of Doc’s hand. It bounced loudly on the floor but did not take his surprised eyes off of her. “I-I’m sorry. What was that?”

Aria plopped down on a chair next to the painting. “I’m sorry, Doc. I wanted to jump your bone tonight and then go right into the therapy. I don’t have time tomorrow to come by in the morning, so I figured I’d be efficient.”

Doc was silent while he picked up the booklet and hurriedly flipped through it. He pointed excitedly to a page. “W-well, there aren’t any treatment guidelines prohibiting such a plan, and I have studied up on what our primed session topic will be, but…” He placed the booklet down and faced her. “Do you happen to have your mood levelers?”

She took two pills out of her pocket.

“Ah! Lucky for you, they are incredibly fast acting. Ahem. Now, even though I am more than willing to serve as your practitioner and will go to any lengths to deliver your treatment, as a professional I must ask you for your clear and affirmative consent before I engage in any experimental procedure.”

Aria gently took him by the tie. She walked him backwards against a wall. She ran her knee up his leg. “Treat me from head-to-toe, Doc.”

“M-Ms. Pantel!” he said as he fumbled with his glasses. “This is rather forward of you! There are steps to this process according to the latest research and we can’t just go at it like two animals if we’re to adhere to your therapy.”

Aria smiled coyly. “What are you talking about, Doc?” She unbuttoned her jacket and draped it over a plastic plant in the corner of the room. She started to loosen his tie.

He knocked his fists against the wall, stared up at the ceiling, and left her to her desires. “W-well, for starters, we need to establish a specific type of relationship for my words to reach you in the proper…eep!”

She gripped his volcano through his pants and squeezed. This burning shaft was beginning to understand what was going on, but it was not quite ready yet. The thick fabric of his pants made it difficult for her to feel the topography of his terrain, but she was ready to progress from a scan to a full on exploration.

“No more science talk, Doc. Sex doesn’t have to be complicated.”

“No, no, no,” he said as he pushed her gently away with two firm hands on her chest. “Oh, my apologies!”

He really was trying to slow her down. Despite his eagerness being firmly clear, he must have really had a specific way in which it needed to be done. She was ready to respect that. After all, he was the mental health professional in the room.

“Okay, Doc. What are you talking about?” Aria asked, stepping back to give him a little space.

He flapped his jacket desperate for air circulation. “Oh boy. This is very difficult for me to say, but we must pace ourselves and walk a very careful path. Since we last met, I was able to pull from the Galactic Wire a few more ongoing studies regarding other officers with your condition. According to the latest clinical trials coming out of Pluto University, we need to find a particular link between the practitioner and patient if I am going to be both the sexual primer and the therapist. In this way, the therapy will serve two purposes: both a therapeutic release of the current tension and also an exploration of the far-reaching origins of your escapist lust-like and alcoholic behavior. I would suggest in our case that I take the lead after asking you a few questions.”

Aria looked the good doctor up and down. She watched him tug at his pants uncomfortably. “Okay, Doc. I’ll take your advice and follow along. I just want to get all of these distractions out of my head, and if you’re willing to show me a good time while I get there, I’m all for it.”

He nodded profusely and opened the door leading from his waiting room into his office. She walked slowly through the doorway and swung her hips for him to see.

He briskly strode past her and pulled another datapad off his shelf. “Now, let’s see. Ah, here it is. We must make a connection. I, as the practitioner, must play a role which is important to you. It must be one of particular impact, very different from my own so that when the priming is over, I can revert back to my therapist role.” He gazed around the room. A specific piece drew his attention.

Aria followed his eyes as she took a seat in the chair near his desk. She noticed a book upon his shelf by Sigmund Freud titled Beyond the Pleasure Principle.

“Hmm. Let me try this.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me about your father.”

Her head perked up. “That’s the route you're choosing?”

“Ms. Pantel, please.”

His voice was lined with patience. It was assuring and trustworthy. She loved it.

“Let me be the doctor and you the patient.”

She slowly relaxed her shoulders and looked up toward the ceiling. If he wanted to full on roleplay, then he could have just said so. She was down for this. And she was feeling the mood levelers start to take hold of her emotions. She was noticeably less stressed about sharing her deepest insecurities and worries. Doc seemed to be on to something.

“You want to know about my relationship with my father? Well, I suppose it’s a pretty common one. I always sought my dad’s approval, but he was not exactly forthcoming with his feelings. He always left me wondering and I think that may have messed me up a little.”

“So what I’m hearing you say is that your father was not open with you about how he felt about you and you greatly desired that. This weighs on your mind constantly.”

“I guess. I don’t know, Doc. I’ve never really thought about that. You kind of got me thinking about it for the first time, so…”

He placed a finger over her lips. “Aria, how about you tell daddy right now what you wished you had heard.”

Ah, there it was. She gently pushed his finger aside. She could hardly contain her lips curling into a smile. “Are you asking me to call you daddy?”

He nodded, but a smile of any kind was curiously absent. What a professional. His thick salt-and-pepper mane, stretching from the top of his head to the bottom of his chin, awoke the butterflies in her stomach.

“Okay, daddy.”

He pushed his chair back and patted his lap. “That’s it, Aria. Now come over here and take a seat.”

She stepped around his desk and walked over slowly, connecting heel to toe.

Doc leaned back in his wide-backed leather chair. How barbaric that daddy would sit on a throne of dead animal hides. This new daddy was wild. She parted her knees and sat on his lap, resting her bottom upon his thighs.

She continued to undo his loose tie. “Daddy, I want you to tell me you’re proud of me.”

Sweat beaded down his brow. He bristled his mustache like a warm-hearted father. “Well, I don’t know, Aria. Why should I be proud of you?”

Heat filled her lungs. Every exhale felt like she was breathing fire. What was this unexplored fetish she was exploring?

She pulled the tie over his head and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. Her hands slipped in between his fabric and she parted it to reveal his curly, interspersed chest hair. His slight paunch added to his comforting fatherly physique. Her pair of feminine fingers walked up his chest and drew circles around his nipples. “You should be proud of me because I grew up into a successful woman. I’m strong and capable.”

“Ah...” he sighed. A smile cracked at the edge of his mouth before he quickly dispelled it. “Keep it professional, Chuck…” he muttered to himself. “Ahem. Well, why do you need daddy’s approval?”

She dipped her head down and stopped at his chest. The gray and black hairs made searching for his mountain peaks a little difficult, but it was a little fun. At the first sign of her target, she ran the tip of her tongue across his chest. She flicked his hardened knobs. A heavy sigh filled her head with a cloud of lust. She felt his pressure growing beneath her seat. Her eyes crept upward and, by the look of his face, he was experiencing something quite similar.

“N-now, Aria, the following is purely clinical.” He placed his gentle arms on her back and ran them down firmly, sculpting grooves into her shirt.

She arched her back. “Oooh.”

His fingers slipped underneath her belt and across her lower back. He lightly caressed her tailbone dimple. “I’ve done the research and this is all a part of a tension release therapy.” With one swift motion, his hand drifted up under her shirt, lifted it over her head, and flung it onto the floor.

“You dirty, old dog!” She scraped her nails across his pects. Her head swung back, she shivered as he grasped her waist. “Yes, daddy. Make me yours.”

She startled when he drew her close, squeezing her against his stomach. He lifted her up, rising to his feet. Her legs dangled until she slid them up his backside and rested them at the apex of his rear. He swung her around. She giggled. She felt like a little girl in his big arms. It reminded her of days long gone, hidden somewhere inside her memory. They were of a time when she was happy, before the demands of adulthood began to overwhelm her.

He carried her over to the lounger and flipped her around, plopping her stomach and hanging chest down. The soft fabric was comfortable. Her knees steadied her upon the floor.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Doc asked, standing behind her. “What does a successful girl like you need with the approval of an old man like me?”

She stared at the wall directly in her face. It jumped at her as her face jutted forward in reaction to his flat hand slapping her clothed bottom. She yelped and wiggled her behind for more. He struck her again and again as she slid her knees apart and reveled in the reverberating sensation that went all the way down to the flats of her feet.

“I’ve been bad, daddy! I haven’t answered any of your questions! Punish me, daddy!” He struck again. “Yes, daddy! Punish me!” Another slap quivered her knees. She signaled her pleasure through mumbles and a shaking waist.

“Perhaps you need more structure in your life? As your daddy, I will provide it until you tell me why you require my approval.” He unbuckled her belt and slid her pants down her shapely behind. A momentary breeze was replaced by warmth when he buried his face in her succulent swells and lapped at her libation.

“Oh, daddy!” She gripped the edges of the couch as if she were holding on for dear life and buried her face in its pillowy seat. Her muffled cries made his vigorous treatment all the more audible and this drove her even further to the edge. Her legs quivered and she released a flood of euphoria down her legs.

“Daddy, that was incredible. Your attention to my pleasure makes me feel cared for. I don’t know how to do that for myself. I need you to show me how.”

“Yes. I’ll demonstrate the value of periodic release once more.” He grabbed her thighs and amazed her as he lifted her small body upside down and sent her legs dangling behind her. Acrobatics of this nature were beyond her experience. It was like she was weightless but only because of his strong, big arms.

Her face swung in between his legs. She could not wait to thank him for the treatment so she clawed at his pants and let them plummet to the ground. With his pulsating tool of medicine in her hand, she kissed it gently from the base to the tip. It felt like it was straining in her small hands. She was surprised at its length and girth. It was a fantastic plaything to take her mind off her troubles.

She felt a little lightheaded, although maybe that was just the blood rushing to her head. His tongue along her thighs, cleaning her up, caused her body to quiver.

“Such a good girl! Yes, that’s it! Daddy approves! Daddy approves!”

Then he plunged again into her valley and sent her body into shivers with every flick. She could not maintain this pleasure state any longer, although she wished she had the stamina to do so forever.

She slapped his legs. “Wait! Stop, stop it! It’s too much,” she snickered.

He withdrew his face. “There. Now you have my approval and reward. Shall we begin the next stage of treatment?”

His seamless transition from slap daddy to doctor was impressive. “Um…of course, Doc.” She tapped his bare ass. “Can you put me down first?”

He flipped her over and gently placed her on the lounger. He took a seat next to her. “So, Ms. Pantel. First, are you experiencing any feelings of inadequacy?”

Her mind was crystal clear. The pleasure chemicals were mixing in her brain juices along with the mood levelers. She had never felt more sure of herself in her life. She had no problem considering his question and knowing the answer.

Regarding his question, certainly she was suffering from inadequacy, had been for years. She did not generally like admitting it though. “Yes,” she said quietly.

“We both know you’re a successful, skilled young woman. You’ve earned many laurels during your already unusual career. Why would someone like that still feel unworthy?”

“Well, my dad…he did a lot. So.”

“Your father did accomplish a great deal, however much of it was surely amplified due to it being wartime. The very beginning of your career caught the tail end of that same conflict, but the majority of it is occurring during a very different galactic-political climate. I think it’s unfair for you to measure yourself against your father.”

“I suppose that makes a lot of sense. I never really thought about it like that. But, then there’s my mom. She’s like a flippin’ saint to people.” She slapped Doc’s thigh. “Does your mom have a stone statue erected in her memory in Earth’s capital?”

Doc chuckled lightly. “She does not. My mother was a kind woman, but certainly not a saint. But, Ms. Pantel, your mother chose a career and life path very different from your own. Who knows how successful she would have been if she had walked your path. I think it’s safe to say you’ve done a remarkable job.”

She had indeed earned many professional laurels. Her mother was not in the military so she could not be compared in the same way. Realizing her bars of success were rather self-constructed to be unreasonable, she felt a weight lifted off her chest.

“Holy balls, Doc. I think you did something.”

“Tell me what your level of anxiety you’re feeling right now on a scale of one to ten.”

She placed a hand on her bare chest. Her breathing was slow. “Well, I’m usually like a seven at all times. When I’m worried about living up to my expectations, I’m like an eight. But right now I’m feeling more like a four.” She turned her body toward Doc, her beauty in full display.

His eyeballs wiggled, straining to keep his gaze directly on her face. He was a true professional! “That’s fantastic, Ms. Pantel! Let’s chalk up tonight’s session as a win, shall we?” He placed a finger under her chin. “I’m very proud of you.”

She smiled warmly. “I think I’m over my daddy issues for now. Thanks, though.”

“Very well. And I suppose that is all well and good. I was able to jump start your therapy, but I don’t think I’m cut out to be your primer moving forward.” Doc placed a hand on his back. There was a crack and a wince. “My bones aren’t as spry as they used to be.”

Aria smiled. “Sounds good, Doc. I’ll take the rest of my wellness plan back into my own hands.”

Doc walked around the room picking up his clothes. “Ms. Pantel, this may go without saying, but the treatment we just underwent is only one step of the journey we must complete. I hope you are free of your feelings of inadequacy that caused you to act recklessly in some instances. However, I am certain you are still suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder from your time in the war. That will be our next target.” He slipped into his pants and sat back down next to her. “Please be aware. There is no quick treatment for that yet. It will be long and hard.”

“Come on, Doc! Did you do that on purpose?”

He wiggled his eyebrows.

They both laughed.