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Sage glanced at her. The woman’s gray eyes met his. She seemed sincere enough.

“You really won’t tell my girlfriend anything?”

“I won’t. In my line of work, trust is extremely important. I would never betray doctor-patient confidentiality. Now, please tell me about Xavier.”

Sage looked back at his hands. “What do you want to know?”

“Did you have sexual relations with him?”

Sage licked his lips. “How did you guess?” he muttered.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed.” Dr. Richardson’s voice was sympathetic. “I would have been more surprised if something like that didn’t happen to you, considering your physical appearance.”

Sage let out a short laugh. “Thanks?”

“There really is nothing to be ashamed of. Studies show that at least twenty percent of inmates are pressured into sexual relations. The figure is most likely much higher—most inmates simply don’t admit it, fearing that it will ruin them if anyone finds out.”

Sage continued looking at his hands.

Dr. Richardson sighed again. “Very well. Please describe Xavier using three words.”

“Asshole,” Sage said. “Confident. Big.” He frowned. “Though he isn’t really that big. I’m not sure why I said that. Sure, he’s tall and fit, but he isn’t built like a tank.”

She noted something in her notebook. “Would you say you hate him?”

Sage chuckled. “What do you think? Of course I hated him. He—he turned me into—into his thing. And everyone knew.” He clenched his fingers into fists.

Silence. Sage couldn’t bring himself to look at the therapist.

“Sage,” she said at last. “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to know that I’m not trying to offend you. Regardless of your answer, it won’t change anything.”

He didn’t like it already. “Fine. Ask away.”

“Did you find sex with your cellmate physically enjoyable?”

Sage sucked a breath in. “I’m straight.”

“That’s not what I asked,” she said gently. “If one’s partner is experienced, sexual intercourse can be enjoyable regardless of one’s sexuality.”

“It... it wasn’t terrible, I guess.”

“Have you ever achieved orgasm with him?”

Sage looked aside, and then at the window, and then at the bookcase. “Yeah,” he said, awkwardly.

“So he was a considerate sexual partner?”

“Not really.”

There was silence as she processed his words. “You mean he was rough with you, but you still experienced an orgasm?”

“Does it matter?” Sage said, his face aflame.

Dr. Richardson studied him for a moment. “Very well, we will not talk about it this time if you don’t want to. Let’s talk about your girlfriend.”

“Laura? What about her?”

“Do you love her?”

“Of course,” Sage said quickly. “We’ve been together for years.”

Dr. Richardson’s gaze unnerved him a bit. “Have you had sex with your girlfriend since you were released from prison?”

Sage fidgeted. “Yeah, sure.”

“Is it as satisfying as before?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just a simple question. Please answer it truthfully. I won’t judge you.”

Sage hesitated. “It’s okay enough,” he said awkwardly. “But...”

The doctor waited patiently.

“But it feels off,” Sage finished, without looking at her.

“Off?”

“I feel like... like something is missing.”

“Could you elaborate, please?”

Her calm, professional tone helped him.

“It feels wrong to be the—the… I mean—it’s just—she expects me to initiate sex, do all the work and pleasure her, but...” He trailed off, too embarrassed to finish.

“But you have become accustomed to being on the receiving end,” Dr. Richardson finished for him.

Sage cringed. At least she hadn’t said he’d gotten used to having a dick in him when he came.

“Yeah,” he said reluctantly, looking down.

Her tone was careful as she said, “I think you should talk about the problem with your girlfriend. Perhaps she would be willing to take a more aggressive role.”

Sage was pretty sure even his ears were red now. “Aren’t you supposed to cure me instead of giving advice like that?”

“Sexual preferences can’t be ‘cured.’ Wanting a more submissive role in sex is not wrong. Your sexual preferences simply appear to have changed.”

Sage gripped his thigh with his fingers. “All right. I’ll talk to Laura.” He stood up.

She smiled. “I’ll see you in a week, Sage.”

* * *

A week later, Sage found himself back in the same chair, with Dr. Richardson seated opposite him.

“Did you talk to your girlfriend?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Was she amenable to your suggestion?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“Sage, I need you to tell me more than that. I’m a doctor, remember. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Sage took a deep breath in. She was right: she was a doctor. She probably heard weirder things every day. “We tried it. Laura was even excited—we’d never tried anything like that before.”

“Was it satisfying?”

Sage hesitated. “A bit better than before.” But only because he had actually managed to keep his erection. Mostly it had been just uncomfortable and awkward as hell. He had closed his eyes and lain passively, letting her do whatever she wanted to him, letting her use his body, but it still felt off. She was too light. Too small. Too soft.


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