Elena: That would be counterproductive. Clara must never know in advance how a session will end. What matters isn’t the method used, but the result: reaching the end of the protocol under the conditions I deem most suitable for her psychophysical balance. I use a vintage clinical electrostimulator with small electrodes strategically placed on the genital erogenous zones. I adjust the current intensity directly from the console, increasing the settings little by little. She lies there, strapped down on her back, experiencing these involuntary muscle contractions that grow in intensity until her body succumbs to a purely nervous orgasm—without me ever having touched her with a single finger.

Silvia: (Increasingly captivated by the story, her voice trembling) And… and the second one?

Elena: The second method is manual: sometimes I put on a pair of sterile latex gloves, apply a conductive gel, and proceed with direct manual stimulation, while maintaining the exact same cold, detached, and professional demeanor. If, on the other hand, I decide on deeper stimulation, I connect an old pelvic stimulator to a mechanical arm positioned between her legs and stimulate her internally.

Silvia: (Whispers, overcome with total excitement) And how does she react to your icy indifference while she’s climaxing?

Elena: She literally falls apart, Silvia. When she reaches the peak of pleasure, immobilized as she is by the leather straps, she can’t even arch her back to give in to the wave; the buckles pin her mercilessly against the metal frame of the table, amplifying her internal perception of the climax beyond measure. Sometimes she cries, trembling convulsively. Only then, with extreme calm, do I remove my gloves, unfasten her wrists from the straps, and order her to get dressed. The high-powered executive has returned as a purified human being, cleansed of every trace of stress.

Silvia: That’s impressive… But, come to think of it… you talk about stimulators and electrodes… but don’t you ever use dildos or anal plugs? In a medical practice structured that way, haven’t you ever incorporated them into your protocol?

Elena: I find dildos vulgar and tacky, with no clinical value. Anal plugs, on the other hand, are different—I use them regularly. I use a specific clinical model: an expandable pneumatic plug made of medical-grade rubber, connected via a tube to a manual pump equipped with a pressure gauge. After completing the bowel lavage, I insert the completely deflated probe and then, very slowly, begin to pump air into it. You should hear the moans she lets out, Silvia... Her entire icy, executive demeanor vanishes in an instant. She feels that balloon expanding, pressing against the inner walls, robbing her of every millimeter of space and sealing in the remaining fluid. I leave her pinned to the table, motionless, with the pressure gauge marking the geometric limit of her resistance—even for twenty consecutive minutes. It’s a test of pure visceral submission.

Silvia: (Holding her breath, visibly shaken) Total internal pressure... And for deep stimulation, on the other hand, how does the pelvic stimulator work?

Elena: (Now amused as she recounts the details to her friend) I use the stainless steel speculums I inherited from my father. When Clara is secured in the stirrups, I choose the most suitable size, insert it, and turn the central screw to open it millimeter by millimeter, until her vagina is completely dilated, taut, and exposed. Sometimes, while the speculum is locked at its maximum opening, I explain to her the levels of dilation we’ve reached, forcing her to listen to me despite her position. Then, I use a wand-style massager—a high-intensity clinical wand—and slide it inside the speculum until it touches the famous G-spot. The vibrations spread deep and completely throughout her body. I secure it to a metal stand, turn it on, and sit down at the desk to fill out the chart, while she can only focus on the hum of the motor. In this case, if possible—with her this open—the orgasm is even more intense!

Silvia: (She sits up abruptly, her cheeks flushed, her gaze fixed on her colleague’s) All right, Elena… now it’s all perfectly clear to me. But now look me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth. When this whole clinical machine reaches its climax… how does it make you feel? What sensation do you feel when you see a woman of Clara’s caliber reduced to that state, totally defenseless, strapped to your equipment?

Elena: It’s the supreme pleasure of absolute control, Silvia. When pleasure pushes her past the breaking point, Clara ceases to exist as a figure of power. The straps prevent any motor reaction, so all the energy of the orgasm remains trapped within her muscles. Her chest arches, her knuckles turn white as she strains to clench her fists within the leather restraints, and a violent flush rises to her neck. I see her toes contract spasmodically in the stirrups, and, in the end, that tone of voice that usually decides corporate fates is reduced to a stifled sob, a moan of pure, total biological surrender. I watch her from above in my white lab coat, motionless. When the effect wears off and she collapses, exhausted, onto the treatment table, I simply pick up the pen and place the final checkmark on the form: “Treatment completed.”

Elena: (Her gaze suddenly becomes sharp and magnetic. She leans forward, closing the distance between their faces.) But let’s put Clara aside for a moment, Silvia. Let’s talk seriously about you.

Silvia: (She flinches, taken by surprise. Her rapid breathing betrays her agitation.) Me? What do you mean?

Elena: I’ve been watching you for an hour, Silvia. You keep shifting on the velvet of the small sofa, you’re licking your lips, you’re breathing heavily, and your pupils are dilated. You’re incredulous, of course, but above all, you’re incredibly aroused by every single detail of my story. It’s completely pointless for you to hide behind the mask of scientific curiosity. Now I demand the truth from you. You’re projecting yourself into that room with white walls. So tell me, what’s your real fantasy? If you were to cross that threshold… would you want to be Clara? Would you want to be the one immobilized by the leather straps, forced to relinquish every shred of control, to undergo the speculum or the enemas so I can purify your body? Or would you want to be Elena? Would you want to be the one wearing that ironed gown, tightening the buckles on the examination table, monitoring the time with cold detachment? Come on, Silvia… which side of the steel examination table do you want to be on?

Silvia: (She sets the cup down on the marble countertop once and for all, succumbing completely to the intensity of her gaze) …In Clara’s place, Elena… I’d like to be exactly in Clara’s place. The idea of losing all power, of being submissive… excites me beyond words. And the way you described those procedures…

Elena: (She stares at her for long moments in a heavy silence, savoring the psychological triumph, then flashes a sly smile and leans back) Well… you know the address of my father’s practice, don’t you? If you really want it, one of these days we can schedule an objective evaluation for you, too. We’ll assess your level of clinical resistance together.

Silvia: (Her eyes widen, and her cheeks flush bright red) E-Elena... what are you talking about?! I... I was just speaking in purely theoretical terms!

Elena: (Lets out a brief, subdued laugh, delighted by her colleague’s utter embarrassment) Oh, look how red you’ve gotten… Even your fingers are trembling on the table, Silvia. So, shall we officially record this as a reservation in my private diary?

Silvia: (Stands motionless, her lips parted, unable to utter a single word, completely overwhelmed by the idea that that steel treatment table actually exists and is frighteningly close.)

Elena: (Notices her total verbal capitulation. With masterful nonchalance, she suddenly shifts her tone, instantly regaining her cool and impeccable professional demeanor.) Come on, don’t look so scared. I simply spared you the embarrassment of having to formally take the initiative. When and if you feel ready to turn theoretical speculation into medical practice, just let me know. Otherwise, as soon as a half-day opens up in my private practice, I’ll send you a digital message myself—with the exact date and time of your first “appointment.” All you’ll have to do is be ready.

Silvia: (She tries to reply, but her throat is completely dry. The image of that sudden message on the screen has struck her deeply. She feels her heartbeat racing in her ears and can’t take her eyes off her.)

Elena: (She glances quickly at her wristwatch, takes the last sip of her drink, and rises gracefully, smoothing out the folds of her dark dress.) All right. But now I really must take my leave, Silvia. I have a highly important administrative meeting in less than half an hour, and the clinic’s management won’t tolerate any delays. Punctuality is the cornerstone of our profession. You go ahead and finish your cocktail at your leisure. But please… keep your cell phone close by. You never know when a slot might open up in my schedule for your first session.