…Sheshona is a guarded woman, who probably does not care who she hurts as long as she remains unscathed and untouched. I am unsure of what I think of that. I doubt that I am in the proper state to make a decent judgment on such a thing at the moment.
She says that she hates me. I do not know why, but I suspect that it has something to do with the time that we have spent together. She became so infuriated with me when I informed her that I care and then she declared that she hated me, as if she was upset that I would dare care about her. Is that why she hates me?
I do not understand it. Why should she hate someone who cares about her? This woman baffles my mind constantly. Why does she hate me? Why won’t she open up to me? Why won’t she just allow me to cure her so that she could be free?
(1855)
Sheshona frowned as she parked herself on her bed and folded her legs underneath her as best she could considering her fetters. She was not feeling like her usual self. Something was bothering her and she refused to admit to herself what it was. She just tried her best to ignore it all.
The hurt look in the doctor’s elegant, olive eyes haunted Sheshona. She had hurt conquests in the past, before and after she had her way with them. She always let them sulk or cry for a little while, but she rarely left them feeling totally injured, but it generally was not her intent to heal their wounds. She usually gave them the only thing that she ever would and it seemed to reassure them that she was not as coldhearted as she seemed; she gave them deep physical attention.
She supposed that it was a lie when she made her conquests believe that she was not as horrible as they thought when she hurt them. She did not care about her conquests pain really and they mended themselves through beliefs that physical pleasure meant something more than what it did. She never went out of her way to make them feel better. They just interpreted her actions in a way that they wanted and she allowed them to think whatever it was they wanted. Their agony never haunted her like the doctor’s aching did.
She decided that she hated the doctor just as she said she did. She had to hate a person who could haunt her from a mere look. She had to hate a person who had the nerve to break through her solid defenses, defenses that no other person had ever even cracked. No conquest had ever even caused her a ping, yet the doctor had the power and gall to get through everything about her and just bother her to no end.
First, the redhead dared to be kind to her and then she acted like she cared and now she was getting to Sheshona with those wounded, but beautiful leaf-colored eyes. She hated that a person, especially a desired conquest could affect her in such a way. She was not going to let that woman get to her.
“She’s just a conquest and nothing more,” Sheshona promised herself.
The pale woman closed her eyes and willed herself to think about Kimberly in a way that she wanted, not the way that she remembered. She pictured Kimberly’s face on the body of another woman that she had been with. She settled for that because she refused to imagine what Kimberly might look like naked. She had found that imagining what a conquest was like before being having her led to disappointment more often than not.
Sheshona merely frustrated herself with her thoughts as she allowed the images to dance through her mind. Her hands were bound in such a way that she could not reach between her legs and at least pleasure herself to the thoughts, which got on her nerves of course. All she was doing was arousing herself and causing herself trouble. She growled in anger; damn her shackles, she silently cursed.
If she was smart, she would have stolen the key from Kimberly, she berated herself. She would have at least been able to relieve her frustration had she done that. She supposed that she was just going to have to deal with it. She would rather the aggravation from arousal than the hatred inside of her from the doctor probably caring about her.
She did not want the physician to care about her for some reason that was beyond her. Other females had cared; she just did not return the feeling and it did not bother her that she did not return the feeling. They clung to her and she really could care less than nothing about how they felt about her. She let them care and let them latch onto her, especially in bed. Their affections came out in tender ways after coupling, she had always noted, and she supposed that she liked that, which was one of the reasons that she allowed them to care. They touched and caressed her with loving, soft hands that she noticeably lacked. They sometimes covered her neck and shoulders in gentle kisses. Would her bossy doctor be one of those women thanks to the fact that she cared about her? She secretly hoped so.
“No, I don’t,” Sheshona argued with herself. She did not want the doctor to show any signs of actually caring. She was only being paid to pretend to care and she was attempting to cure her of something that Sheshona was extra-certain was not a disease; no illness felt so good. So, she hated the doctor and only wanted one thing from the redheaded little vixen.
Scratch that last thought. She loathed the doctor and she wanted two things from the redheaded little vixen. She wanted to have her way with Kimberly on that desk; it was a main objective for them to be on the desk when they finally got to it. And she wanted those distressed, lovely green eyes out of her head. She could not bear to see those eyes appearing so wounded anymore. She was then distracted as she heard the door unlocked, so she guessed that it was time for her to go see the little minx.
She had actually skipped the last few sessions after proclaiming her hatred for her doctor. She told herself it was because she just did not want to go do anymore pointless sessions, but deep down, she had not gone because she did not want to see her hurt doctor. She did not want that uncomfortable, tense air to be around them; she just believed that things should not be that way with them. And then, the detested female had the nerve to enter her temporary sanctuary.
“Sheshona, we have an appointment,” Kimberly stated in an even tone. She sounded very professional, but there was some irritation underneath her voice. She had to force herself to stare at her patient.
“So?” the emerald-eyed female replied while making sure that she sounded irked and she also made sure that she did not look at her doctor, which did make it a little easier for the physician to eye her.
The pale woman did make a mental note of how strong Kimberly sounded. Had any other woman been hurt like Kimberly, Sheshona knew that the other woman would sound close to tears when placed in the same room as the person that hurt her. But, no, not the good doctor because she was not the average woman.
The tone that the redhead used caused something inside of Sheshona to stir and it seemed to nearly jump. She ordered the feeling to disperse, but it did not comply. She hated the redheaded vixen and nothing about Kimberly had better cause something in her to blossom, so that feeling needed to go away. The only thing that Kimberly had better do was sexually arouse her, Sheshona commanded her body and mind.
Really, Sheshona did not think that she should feel anything point blank aside for arousal or maybe annoyance in her life. She was a stone. Stones did not have emotions and they did not need emotions to validate their existence. She existed without feelings and had for a long time.
“So, move. My office, now,” Kimberly commanded.
“What?” Sheshona said in a bit of an offended tone. She did not like being ordered around, especially not by some hypocritical doctor.
“Now,” Kimberly added in a forceful tone.
Sheshona cut her doctor an angry glare, which Kimberly surprisingly matched with one of her own. What happened to her blushing, bashful doctor who flushed so easily when complimented? What happened to the little minx that was like the other woman that she was attracted to? She had been replaced by a crimson-haired fire angel that ordered her around and stared defiantly at her with sharp olive eyes. And why was it more of a turn-on for her doctor to be bossy than bashful? Now, Sheshona would not mind seeing her doctor blushing again, but she seemed to like the take-charge Kimberly too. Wait, Sheshona’s mind objected; she was supposed to detest Kimberly.
The pale woman reminded herself that she hated her doctor. She had to remember that; she hated the cute woman. There was nothing that would change that. No matter what the doctor did, she had to loath the woman. She had to, she silently insisted.
“Get moving,” the redhead commanded while pointing toward the door.
Sheshona turned her mouth up, but she got up off of the bed. She marched down to the office with her doctor. She noted how powerful the redhead was trying to walk. Her doctor was covering up that gapping wound that she was feeling and the pale woman wanted to find it amusing, but she could not. She only thought about the pain that she caused Kimberly and how she wanted to take it away; after all, Kimberly had not done anything to her to deserve such agony.
What could she do to relieve her darling doctor of that ache? Well, she had a few ideas, but she doubted that any of them would fly, mostly because of the redhead’s attitude and also because of her attitude. After all, she knew that she could apologize and explain herself, but she felt that there was a better chance of the world coming to an end at that exact moment than her ever apologizing for anything. So, the doctor was just going to have to be hurt and she was just going to have to try harder in ignoring that fact.
The pair entered the office and Sheshona went for the sofa, but Kimberly went to her desk. Sheshona sucked her teeth; so, the doctor was going to throw a tantrum over things and punish her by going back to that tempting desk. Yeah, that would show her, she commented sarcastically in her mind as she got up; she did not give a damn about where they were located, she silently insisted. It was not like she was going to go along with the treatment anyway.
The raven-haired woman went back to her old chair. She scrunched her body up in the chair by putting her legs up and resting her feet on the end of the chair. In the back of her mind, she noted that she did not like going back to the old system.
“So, what should we not talk about today?” Sheshona asked, hoping to ease the intense waves radiating from Kimberly. She was also looking to hide her own discomfort. The question did not help on either front.
“How is the diet working for you?” Kimberly inquired in a clipped tone. She was in total professional mode, Sheshona noted and she disliked that.
The emerald-eyed female was not sure why she detested the cold, dispassionate tone that the doctor was using, but she did not like it and that was enough for her. She wanted only to hear the warm, friendly voice of her redheaded physician. She only wanted the welcoming and pleasant doctor and she had ruined that with her past declaration. She supposed that she had better fix it before it got anymore bothersome. Apparently, the world was going to out last her.
“Look, doc…” Sheshona sighed.
“You haven’t been sticking to the diet, have you?” Kimberly asked while still speaking in that removed tone her patient was not willing to listen to.
“You know I haven’t,” Sheshona snapped. A stupid diet was not going to make her want to go out and have sex with men and damn it, they both knew that as far as she was concerned. Who thought of that idiotic, cockamamie treatment and why the hell was her brilliant doctor actually following it?
“What about your menstrual cycle? Has it been occurring regularly?” Kimberly asked. She might as well have been reading from a checklist of boneheaded symptoms of the “illness,” Sheshona thought and it was because of her, which irked her further. Her doctor was too good for the generic humbug that other moronic physicians used, so she wanted the redhead to act like she was too good for it.
“Doc, just stop it, all right. You don’t have to go through this nonsense. I…” the pale woman trailed off and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean it when I said I hate you. I just wanted you to stop asking me questions. I want you to stop caring,” she admitted through gritted teeth. From the look on her face, one might have assumed that the words truly pained her to say.
“Why?” Kimberly inquired in a bemused tone after a moment of silence. She did not understand why anyone would want her to not care.
“Because I don’t need you to care about me. I get along just fine without people caring about me, always have and always will. Why do you even care? I don’t care about you,” Sheshona pointed out.
Kimberly only tilted her head slightly because of those words. If Sheshona did not care, as she so loudly proclaimed, she would have left Kimberly to mope with her injured spirit. Instead, she had explained herself to lift the pain from the doctor; not the actions of a woman who did not care.
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation on the couch,” Kimberly suggested while silently deciding against pointing out her logic to why Sheshona was obviously lying. She knew that pointing out her reasoning would only annoy her cranky patient.
“I don’t mind the couch, but the conversation can wait,” the raven-haired patient replied with her best suggestive smirk.
Kimberly shook her head in a slightly amused fashion and they both rose to their feet. They strolled over to the sofa and sat down. Sheshona thought about the last time that they had been on the couch and she had put her feet on the doctor’s lap. She liked that quite a bit and decided to sit like that again, despite the fact that she was barefoot and had been during her whole stay. Her feet were probably never going to be clean again thanks to her stay, yet she rested them in Kimberly’s lap anyway.
“This isn’t very appropriate,” the doctor pointed out while motioning to the feet placed on her lap.
“I’m not very appropriate,” Sheshona retorted.
“I hadn’t noticed,” Kimberly remarked; her sarcastic side was something that only her patient brought out in her.
“You are acting like it’s new to you,” the patient countered.
“I merely point out the actions in the hope that one day my words will reach your brain,” the doctor riposted.
The emerald-eyed female smirked; it was a joy to go back and forth verbally with her little vixen. “Well, doc, ask me a question before I decide to just throw myself at you and do all sorts of naughty things to your delicious body,” she commented.
“How would you know what my body is like?” the redhead taunted her patient. She naively thought that she had Sheshona.
“I have an eye for these sorts of things,” Sheshona answered.
“You’ve been with many women then?” Kimberly guessed.
“Jealous?” Sheshona teased, still smirking like the cat that ate the canary. She had a supreme confidence in herself because of the doctor’s curiosity. She was going to have her darling doctor, but a question tugged at the back of her mind; it was a question that she had never asked herself. What would she do after she conquered her doctor? She just knew that she would not be satisfied after that, not with the feelings festering inside of her. To dismiss the irksome question, she told herself that she would just cross that bridge when she came to it.
“Curious,” Kimberly answered her patient’s question.
“Guess,” Sheshona said with an amused smile. She was glad that they were no longer having their little tiff, not that she would acknowledge that it was a tiff or that it had affected her in any way.
…I spent most of the session guessing how many women Sheshona had been with, trying to gauge how badly her disease had set in. She did not acknowledge any of the numbers that I presented her with. She just looked at me with the devil in her gaze as my numbers climbed into the high thirties and I had give up, believing that she was just toying with me now. Could she have really been with so many women? Where did she find so many women to participate in such perverse doings? Did she catch them with those demonic eyes?
She tries to beckon me with those eyes and because I do not answer, she withholds responses, yet she still manages to converse with me. Only, she never discloses any relevant information. Her eyes actually tell me more than her mouth, but her mouth confirms that look in her eyes most of the time. Why does she desire me? I do not understand.
(Present)
Kim glanced at Shego, who was just staring down at the journal page that they were both finished with. She could tell that Shego was bothered and she doubted that it was from what they were learning in the journal. It was that night, the night that she could have possibly murdered Shego and she had the nerve to smile about it while doing it; sure, she had not been looking to kill the villainess, but she had gotten some level of demented satisfaction in beating the pale thief.
The night actually still haunted Kim. Sometimes, she had nightmares about her actions, so she could not imagine how Shego must feel about it. The thing was that Shego did not look haunted by the night; she looked disappointed.
The raven-haired martial artist was attempting to erase the fact that she had hurt Kim’s feelings by telling her among other things to shut the hell up not too long after Kim explained why she had assaulted Shego in such a harsh way. She should not care that Kim’s feelings were hurt considering what the little hero had done to her. She did not care, she promised herself.
“Shego,” Kim said, breaking a tense silence that had existed between them since the thief had barked at her.
“What?” the pale woman huffed.
“I’m sorry,” the redhead apologized in a sound, earnest manner. She had disappointed Shego with her actions more than she had disappointed herself, which was quite a feat considering how she felt. “I doubt that I can ever make up for my actions, but I am truly sorry,” she insisted.
Shego glanced at Kim and those sincere olive eyes practically devoured her. She supposed that it did her no good in holding a grudge; her mother had taught her better than that. She did not like wasting energy in hating someone anyway, especially not Kim. After all, before that incident, she had secretly liked Kim, as a fighter anyway. The girl was entertaining and useful.
“It’s all right, Princess,” the super-powered thief conceded with a sigh. It truly was all right. Kim had not been trying to kill her, so that was a plus. Besides, everyone had that moment in time where they could screw up their whole lives, at least Kim had decided otherwise. Moreover, the kid had taken a few lessons away from the whole thing, so that was another plus.
“Are you going to tell me why that night stands out in your mind so much and why you keep bringing it up?” the slender redhead inquired.
“No reason,” Shego lied. No reason that she wanted to share.
“Come on,” Kim persisted.
“It’s nothing,” the pale woman replied.
“It’s something. Tell me or it’s going to bug me for the rest of my life!” Kim declared, obviously being overdramatic about things. She would think about it forever if she did not get the reasons for it, though.
“It’s nothing important,” the villainess insisted while wondering where the hell the redhead picked up a playful side that quickly for her to be acting so ridiculous. Kim hardly noticed that she was acting preposterous; she just wanted to get Shego to talk and she was willing to try anything to get that to happen.
“Come on!” the college student whined loudly and that managed to crack Shego’s defenses.
“All right, all right! Damn it, you get more annoying by the minute. I just thought that you were going to choose the wrong path. When I used to fight you, I would think that you’re the way that I should be. You’re usually pretty under control and you don’t let your emotions rule you as you fight a great deal of the time. I always give into my anger when things don’t go my way in a fight and while I don’t kill, it still disrupts my fighting and because of it, I haven’t reached my full potential. You gave into your emotions that night and for a long time, I did think that you tried to kill me,” Shego explained, trying her best to make it sound like it was unimportant.
“Oh,” Kim muttered because she did not know what else to say.
“Don’t worry about it, though, Kimmie. I was seeing things that probably weren’t there anyway,” the super-powered sidekick commented with a wave of her hand, hoping to dismiss the whole matter. She did not feel like talking about things that were not going to happen. It seemed like a waste of time to her.
“What did you see?” the hero asked curiously.
“Nothing,” Shego answered.
The green-skinned woman thought that Kim would choose the path of a warrior eventually; no, not thought. It was more like she hoped that Kim would choose that path, but looking around the girl’s home and thinking about how she spent her days, Shego realized that her hope was probably going to remain unfulfilled. She needed to accept the facts, as she had been constantly scolded throughout her life. Kim was what she was, but Shego wanted to wait to see what the redhead would be. No matter what, though it did not seem that the little hero would ever turn into a little warrior.
“Tell me!” Kim begged, latching onto Shego’s shoulders. She was so curious now.
“You are a curious one. You know what curiosity did to the cat,” the pale woman teased.
“Tell me or I’ll…” Kim tried to think of a threat, but nothing came to mind.
“Aw, Kimmie too kindhearted to think of a good way to torture me?” the moss-hued female taunted her hostess.
“Come on!” the redhead begged.
Shego only shook her head. Some part of her realized that she liked the alone time that she was having with Kim. She had not bonded with anyone as she was doing right now, but that did not occur to her. It also did not occur to her that a part of her thought that Kim was cute when she was acting silly. She decided to tease Kim for the rest of the night; the journal was forgotten for the moment.
Kim continued on pestering Shego, trying to find out what it was that Shego saw when she looked at her. She also thought about how she worried Shego that night; well, at least now they had both discussed the issue. With luck and some effort, they could more than likely mend the wounds; well, that was Kim’s optimistic opinion anyway.
Next time: learning about Sheshona’s mother and Go family tradition.