Hope this helps in understanding Edward's issues.

Who's ready to meet Whit?

Love to you all! Love to Bleriana for writing a kick ass blog post on this story! I hope you finally got some sleep my dear! and to PullmydaisyToo for pimping hard this week! MWAH!

I should warn: This chapter is all about therapy and sexual situations that might make some people uncomfortable (no rape, or sexual abuse- just Tanya being the skank she is) I think most of you have figured out that Tanya took advantage of Edward in some way. And yes, Edward was only 17. Don't call the cops on me, it's just fiction (and sad to say more common in real life than we parents want to know about).

Doctor's Orders- Beres Hammond

~~oo~~

Chapter 29: Slow could be just as satisfying.

EPOV

I really didn't want to do this.

As much as Esme hoped this would help, now that I was sitting in the small waiting room, about to talk about my perversion, I was having second thoughts.

I was doing better.

I still thought about Bella constantly, in every position I had ever seen in a porno, but I was down to a solid eight times a day.

That had to be normal for a guy my age, right?

So I didn't really need to be here.

I leaned over, arms propped heavily on my knees, trying to calm down. I knew I was deluding myself. Yesterday was proof enough that I needed help. After dropping Bella off, I had hidden in my room and couldn't stop repeating our lunch together, playing out different scenarios with her instead of my awkward rejection.

I was late to dinner.

I would have to change my own sheets.

I would be raw for a week.

I was sick. I needed help.

The one saving grace was that Carlisle didn't come with me to this meeting.

Sometimes it was nice that he worked as much as he did.

"Mr. Cullen?"

My eyes shot up to the nurse at the door. She smiled and motioned me inside. I was sure that she knew exactly why I was here.

"The doctor will be here in just a moment," the nurse explained when we stepped into a well furnished office. "You can have a seat on the sofa if you like."

I quietly thanked her and took a deep breath when she closed the door.

The sofa looked too comfortable.

I felt like I needed a hard steel chair to sit in.

Hands in my pockets, I drifted to the wall of pictures and various degrees on the wall next to the desk. There were several pictures of a man and a woman, posing in front of landmarks telling me that they travelled a lot. The man was tall, with wavy blond hair and a cocky smile in a number of them. The girl in the picture with him was tiny compared to him, with jet-black hair and bright eyes. In most of the pictures, the man was eyeing her, almost possessively. She held him close, and her smile was full what can only be described as energy and excitement.

It seemed the good doctor liked his women small and energetic.

He didn't look like the typical doctor though. He seemed pretty down to earth, often in jeans and a button up shirt, while she was dressed impeccably.

"We like to travel."

I spun around at the sound of a woman's voice.

There in the doorway was the small, dark haired woman from the pictures.

My stomach lurched.

"You're… you're the doctor?" I stammered.

I couldn't do this!

Not with… her!

She smiled easily and closed the door behind her, nodding as she slowly made her way towards me. In her hand was the thick file I knew all too well.

The embarrassment was complete.

"I'm Dr. Alice Brandon-Whitlock, Edward," she said simply holding her hand out to me. "But you can call me Alice, or Whit."

I swallowed and took a step back, avoiding her hand.

"I can't," I gulped.

She nodded and turned toward her desk, tossing the file onto her desk.

"I can understand, Edward. I told Carlisle it would be difficult for you to see me. He seemed to agree. I'm afraid that's why it took so long to get you in here to begin with," she explained, standing by her chair.

I glanced at the door, thinking about just leaving. I couldn't talk to a woman about my issues.

Not Esme.

Not this lady.

Bella.

I sighed and looked back at the woman. I'd have to talk to Bella about it.

If I couldn't talk to a stranger about it all, how could I tell Bella?

She'd freak out enough as it was. Knowing what I was.

"Why don't we sit and just get to know one another, Edward," she said, pulling me out of my frantic thoughts.

She slipped into her seat behind the desk and motioned towards the chair set in front of the desk, smiling politely. She waited patiently while I deliberated. When she didn't press me further, I slowly shuffled towards the chair, sitting awkwardly in the overstuffed chair.

She placed a hand over the file she had walked in with and watched me as I tensed at the thought of her reading it.

She surprised me when she tossed it in the shredder.

Well, to be clear, she had to do it in three or four passes.

It was pretty thick.

When the motor stopped its chewing, she looked back at me and smiled.

"I want you to be comfortable while you are here, Edward. We don't need to bring that into this room. You and I get a fresh start," she said, her eyes penetrating mine in such a way I was sure she could read my soul, all my past transgressions, and what I was capable of.

I tried to pull my gaze from hers, but it was difficult with how strong she seemed, sitting there behind her desk.

I wanted to dislike her like I did Carlisle. But she was nothing like him.

She hadn't judged me. Yet.

She had compassionate eyes.

"Did you read it?" I asked, eyeing the destroyed file.

"Carlisle insisted I take it, but I can assure you, aside from what Carlisle has mentioned briefly over the phone this last week when making the appointment, I know nothing about you," she replied. "I don't want someone else's ham-handed diagnosis fogging up mine."

My slate was clean with her. She had erased my humiliation I had had to endure during Carlisle's sessions. I felt a small bit of hope that this doctor might actually listen to me, and help me.

"So how do we do this?" I asked quietly, my hands fidgeting in my lap.

"How about some simple questions first, so I can get to know you?" she suggested and pulled out a fresh notebook to write in.

I frowned and looked down at my knees, nodding stiffly.

"So you're a Senior at Forks?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I moved here just a few months ago as well. This town takes a little getting used to, but the people are nice," she commented casually.

"Are you close with Carlisle?" I asked, uncomfortable with her knowing him and possibly sharing anything she learned with him.

"He and I work here in the hospital, but I don't know him closely," she replied and leaned forward. "Edward, I want to be sure you understand, anything that you share with me here will never leave this room. Just because he is your father, he has no say in how I treat you. You're safe here."

"How did you pick this career?" I asked, glancing at her. She seemed too sophisticated to be living in Forks. She dressed well, in a business suit that disguised her figure, but she still managed to be pretty.

And strangely, I wasn't turned on by her. Not even a bit.

That was new.

She smiled and looked over to the pictures again, her eyes unfocusing for a moment as if she were daydreaming.

"My husband and I needed to simplify our lives. Get some distance from the things that can only hurt you. Sometimes the world can be too distracting, you know?"

It was true, Forks had been pretty boring, at least until a couple weeks ago.

"Aren't you going to ask me about my addiction?" I asked cautiously.

She placed her chin in her hand and shrugged.

"Do you want to talk about that now?"

The sooner we dealt with it, the sooner I could be with Bella. I nodded again and shifted in my seat, preparing for the inevitable questions.

How many times a day, how do I handle thoughts, what are my tastes….

"So tell me about your childhood," she said instead. "Carlisle informed me you are adopted."

"What does my being adopted have to do with wanting sex all the time?" I asked, confused.

She settled back into her chair.

"Most compulsions we have as adults come from something in our childhood," she explained. "It could be that something in your past has shaped your views now. And if we can identify that, we can deal with whatever concerns you have."

I immediately thought about Tanya.

She had said something like that as well. That because I didn't have a real mother, I had to find something to fill in the place of one. That of course had turned into the relationship she and I had. She had been the one in charge.

"My mom died when I was four, my dad before I can remember," I mumbled.

"Did you have a stable foster home to stay in afterwards?"

I shook my head.

"I was in and out of foster care for a while before Carlisle and Esme adopted me."

She nodded and continued to listen.

"It wasn't like I was a bad kid," I continued. "I was just…sensitive."

"Can you explain that?" she asked gently.

I frowned and looked down at my lap again.

"I needed to always have some kind of contact. My mom had kept me close when she was alive. And her hugs made me feel safe. I guess I had a lot of nightmares as a kid. Most foster parents didn't have the time to look after me as much as I wanted, so I would get upset. Tear things up, cry a lot."

"Tactile affection is necessary as a child, Edward. Especially when traumatic events happen to one so young. So how did your adoptive parents help with that?" she asked.

"Esme was like my mom," I replied softly and smiled at the memory of my first meeting with her. She couldn't stop hugging me.

She made me feel safe again.

"So what happened once you were adopted?"

"I don't understand," I said.

She leaned forward again and thought for a moment before speaking.

"Did you get the affection you needed once you were adopted?"

I hadn't thought much about it. I assumed I had. Certainly from Esme.

But now that she had asked, I realized that once we had moved to Alaska when I was thirteen, Esme had started working again, and Carlisle was never home. Emmett had been adopted shortly after me, which lessened my time with my parents on my own. With work we were often left with sitters.

And they were too young to understand why I needed affection.

"I'm not blaming Esme," I said after I had explained my thoughts.

"It's no one's fault, Edward," she said soothingly.

"Tanya tried to blame her," I said, my breath coming a little harder as I remembered conversations with Tanya. "Tanya knew what I needed."

"When did you first start your relationship with Tanya?"

"It was last year, before Christmas. My girlfriend at school had broken up with me, so I was upset. And Tanya was there for me," I breathed, crystal clear memories flooded back to me.

Esme had been working late. Carlisle wasn't home. Emmett was at practice. I was alone.

And Tanya had come over to ask about borrowing something. I don't even remember what it had been. She had come over, and I had been upset. She knew what I needed.

"I just needed a hug, you know?" I said. "And she gave me that. I'm the one that tried to take it further."

She was beautiful, and she was more mature than the girls at school. She understood love. And she was willing to teach me. I had never been good at explaining myself to girls my age. Tanya understood.

"Tanya offered you something no one else could."

I nodded, embarrassed. She had been the first woman to view me as a man, and the first to touch me like that.

"When did the need for touching turn sexual?"

I blushed and fidgeted in my chair.

"Before that," I said and glanced up at her. "I fantasized a lot. All the time. In school, at home, everywhere really. I liked touching myself when I couldn't get affection from others."

"When did that start?"

I swallowed and winced. "I started that before I was adopted."

She nodded.

"That's very common, Edward. Especially for someone needing physical affection. When did it go further than fantasizing?"

I thought about the first time Tanya had ever approached me.

It was a month after our first encounter, at a party for Carlisle celebrating his promotion. She had approached me just outside the house, in the cover of night. A kiss, and then my fumbling hands on her. She had told me that night she would show me how to do it right.

The months that followed opened my eyes to things I never had thought of before.

"Are you comfortable discussing those things today?"

I let out a long breath and nodded. This doctor had a way of getting information out of me that wasn't nearly as embarrassing as it had been with Carlisle.

"She liked things a certain way. Very controlled," I murmured, embarrassed. "There were rules that I had to follow. And punishments."

Dr. Whitlock sat a little straighter in her chair.

"She controlled you? So you were her Sub?"

"What's that?" I asked.

She adjusted in her seat and smiled gently at me.

"A Sub is a submissive to a dominant. The Dom is the one who makes the rules, dictates what you are allowed to do, and often insists a Sub's pleasure be controlled by the Dom. The Submissive must do anything the Dom asks to please them."

"Um, then I guess so," I said, relaxing some with her easy explanation.

She seemed much more knowledgeable than Carlisle. I had no idea there was a name for what I was.

"How long were you her Sub?"

"Until Carlisle found out, about three months," I replied, closing my eyes to try and wish away that memory.

"Did she treat you well?"

"Um, I really missed being touched. She wouldn't let me touch myself and she wouldn't touch me unless I pleased her first. My release was my reward. And most of the time was spent for her, and then I had to go home," I explained, frowning at how much she enjoyed it and I was left wanting.

I hadn't thought like that until now, when this doctor made it more clear.

"And then Carlisle found out," she prompted.

"He walked in on us," I murmured.

The one time she had allowed me to take over, tying her up and hoping against hope that this time, I could fuck her. She had never let me before. Telling me I needed to earn it and that I was still too inexperienced. That I needed to make her beg for it.

I had finally gotten her to that point.

The condom on, my nerves tingling at the idea of my first time and I was moving over her tethered body when the door had opened.

And life had changed forever.

"Carlisle had a right to be upset, but not at you, Edward. She shouldn't have introduced you to this area of sex in your emotional state. Dominants are supposed to care for their Submissives. Not exploit them."

"How do you know all these things?" I asked, curious about her knowledge of this. Carlisle had not understood. And she seemed so blasé about it.

Like it was normal conversation.

She chuckled and shook her head.

"I have to know these things in order to diagnose you," she replied, smiling.

She was so much different than Carlisle.

"So it wasn't perverted then? What we did?" I asked nervously.

She raised her perfect eyebrows and let out a loud breath.

"It's not abnormal in a healthy sexual relationship, but you have some issues that she should have taken into consideration. And you were too young. How many sexual relationships did you have before her?"

"Um," I mumbled. "She would have been my first. I didn't date much. Girls my age made me nervous. They don't understand me."

She was quiet for a long minute.

"So all of your sexual relief has been on your own?" she asked gently. I was too embarrassed to say anything so I just nodded.

"Did Tanya ever for you?"

"Sometimes," I replied, frowning. "The first time I was with her, but then she laid out her rules after that. She preferred to watch me get off or just simply send me home for me to do it there."

"And now that you are away from her, do you find fantasies more pronounced to satisfy you?"

I adjusted again in my chair. We were finally getting to the worst of the discussion.

"I used to think about Tanya, but I don't anymore," I replied, uncomfortable.

"Do you see other people in your fantasies? It appears that you don't tend to generalize women as sexual objects. You haven't dated since you've been here?"

I shook my head and cleared my throat. I only thought of one woman now.

"But you think about sex to the point of distraction?"

I nodded.

"And that bothers you enough to have the courage to come here."

I sighed and nodded, waiting for the grim prognosis.

"You want to quit but you are still pleasing yourself more than a few times a day," she stated simply.

I sighed and waited for the accusing glance, the lecture.

Neither came.

"Edward, I want you to understand that while I have concerns about your frequency in masturbation, I am less inclined to think you need something as drastic as medication or intensive therapy as Carlisle first suggested," she said, watching me with a concerned face.

I blinked at her words.

"So, I'm normal then?" I asked, hope blossoming.

She closed her notebook that she had all but ignored while we spoke. She tapped on it a couple of timed before speaking.

"Edward, you're an eighteen year old young man that has done a few things that many grown men have never even dreamed of. And that has given you a fairly substantial appetite, if you will. But you also spend too much time thinking about sex, even at your age. With your need for physical touch to soothe your stress, you've supplemented that with self-touch and sexual fantasy. Without a partner to share in any affectionate experiences, that causes more stress on your psyche. Which then precipitates your need to touch yourself. It's a vicious cycle."

"So if there was someone," I said, pausing with fear that she'd say I couldn't get involved in anyone.

"Quite frankly, I'm more concerned you don't have a girlfriend than I am about the frequency of your activities," she replied. "I have a feeling things would be more manageable if you were in a loving, stable, monogamous relationship."

Her answer surprised me. Did that mean that she thought I could have a relationship with Bella?

"There is this girl," I started, feeling my lips turn up into a smile at the idea that I could maybe be more for Bella.

She smiled again, tapping on the notebook again.

"Well good! Why don't you ask her out and then we can talk about it on Saturday? I still think it would do you some good to come back and talk with me some more, and work out some of your history so that you can look forward to this part of your life instead of being embarrassed about it."

"You think I can manage this, by just meeting with you once a week?" I asked.

She laughed and nodded.

"I think you just need some unbiased guidance and maybe some goals you need to set, Edward, " she said, smiling. "I can help you with that if you'll allow me."

"So, having a girlfriend is okay?" I asked again, wanting to be sure.

Why had Carlisle denied that to me if it would help me?

"I think it's safe, Edward. I'd perhaps try to keep it to first base on the first date though, all right?"

I slowly stood with her, my smile getting away with me.

"I'll try."

She came around the desk and shook my hand, looking up at me with that pleasant smile.

"That's all you can do, Edward. And know that maybe this girl can perhaps offer you the affection you need, regardless of how far you go," she said. "A hug is sometimes more satisfying than sex. Try for hugs first, all right?"

I couldn't necessarily agree with her logic on hugs versus sex.

One made me feel safe.

The other?

I had no idea, but I had a feeling it would be amazing shared with Bella.

Maybe it wasn't as far away as I thought it would be.

I couldn't wait to see her.

And touch her without guilt this time.

I left the office feeling better than I had in a long time.

And smiling as I drove towards Bella's house.

Now the only hurdle was in trying to tell her why I felt we needed to slow down, when suddenly now all I wanted to do was speed up.

I'd try to be slow.

I grinned as I pulled up to her house.

Slow could be just as satisfying.

~~oo~~

hehehehe. Not the Whit you thought... Don't worry, we'll meet Jasper... He has a purpose to this story, just as Alice does.

I know I know… You want the talk between Edward and Bella! But this is long enough for today. We'll just have to see Edward's version of slow from Bella's POV…maybe…who knows what mischief Bella will get into before he gets to her house.

Longer PSA: This entire chapter is an under-researched, uneducated approach to a therapy session for a compulsion that affects more people than we realize (did you know that by reading smut, we are considered sex addicts? Don't freak out, just enjoy it for the perviness that it is)

I'm saying this because I'd really rather not have people self diagnose, or send me long diatribe reviews on how this should have been diagnosed or that it was done all wrong- surely a Sex therapist wouldn't encourage Edward to find a girl! In this story it is. Don't diagnose by my words. That's all I'm saying. It's fan fic… not the American Psychology Journal…

Until tomorrow.

MWAH!

steph