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...and, so it begins...

'Dai on' na'

Is Japanese.

* This was the absolute first word of Japanese that I was taught. Dai on' na, ...and this single word, has become first, and foremost in my mind. This is the story of a man, who used to have a normal life. No longer...



  As I suffer from many drastic changes, and as I drift further and further, into this mind-boggling world, I'll attempt to bring you along with me. The phenomenal changes that I have to live with, in my new life, has become something that most people could not even imagine... 

    This is my story.

  Jumping out of the Yellow Cab, I threw the driver a ten spot and stepped away from the vehicle. I stood there in the wet, drizzling mist, watching him drive away. Turning around, and looking up at one of the windows on the very top floor of the giant building, I lowered my bill-cap and started in that direction.

  Shaking some of the rain away from the bill of my baseball cap, I hurriedly, made my way up the smooth cement steps that lead up to the front doors.

  The huge office building was definitely a well-known benchmark nestled within the heart of the city, and Ms. Maxine, or 'Dr. Harrison's practice', was on the very top floor.

  I swiftly walked through the double doors of the entrance to the Murphy Building and stepped inside like I had done this every day of my entire life, ...although, this was actually, the very first time that I had ever been here.

  Being the last week of October, in New York City, ...it was quite cool for this time of year. I quickly stepped inside the wide entryway and slowly found my way to the elevator.

  Seventeen floors below, I stood in the lobby, ...looking up at the large framed, peg-board chart, that made up the Murphy building's, 'Physical Directory'. I was looking for room 69, on the eighteenth floor.

  A long, cement block corridor, spreading out before me in both directions; I paused, trying desperately to collect my thoughts.

  My appointment time was set at three o'clock on this evening, and I looked down at my watch and checked the time: (two-thirty p.m.)


   Something deep inside me told me to turn around and RUN, Just Leave... Something, just didn't feel 'quite' right; if I could have returned to this point in time, once again, I would have burst through those doors so fast that I would have removed them from the hinges!


  Dr. Harrison would actually be the very first 'Qualified Psychologist', that was actually 'Certified', and had ever been 'recommended' to me, by my own Physical Care Provider: P.C.P.

  ...and, I felt just a little bit apprehensive about the whole idea because this wasn't something that I considered to be absolutely necessary.

  However, my Family Doctor, 'Dr. Michele Bentworth', had scheduled this appointment especially for me and, she also informed me that Dr. Harrison was simply 'the best',    

  ...and, if I didn't keep this appointment with her, the good doctor would most definitely 'black list' my name, and I would never again get the chance to see her, ...ever!

I thought that I had better take Michele's advice, and keep the appointment...


  Stepping into the empty elevator, I turned around to find a double row of those solid steel buttons. Each one numbered to their respective floor. I started searching out the one with the number '#18', boldly marked in large numbers. I hesitated, before slowly pushing the cold steel button.

  The stainless steel doors slowly closed, effectively sealing me off and separating me from the rest of the world.

  My breathing became labored and my stomach queasy, as the thought of being trapped inside of this metal box instantly filled my head. Suddenly jerking downward, then rocking around, it slowly speeded up with the sudden lifting motion, going straight up, taking the carriage by some rusty steel cables, and, ...lifting me up through this shaft, that would take me all the way up to the very top floor.

  I hated these things! These confining little boxes, ... these deathtraps. I couldn't breathe, until the doors finally reopened, allowing me to swiftly walk through, and step out into the carpeted hallway.

  However, what I didn't expect was the sudden exposure to the toxic chemicals that had just been released! Apparently, a cleaning crew must have just finished up on the top floor, and as the elevator doors opened up, I was instantly hit with a very strong odor! It was some type of morbid, cleaning solution!

  I started coughing uncontrollably. Stubbing my toe, I stumbled and staggered, while taking the first few steps down the narrow hallway.

  I had to stop and blow my nose. I paused for a moment, awkwardly clearing my throat, I looked around in the empty hallway and found that nobody else was around to witness this awful assault on the senses.

  The pungent aroma, lingering in the air, continued to annoy me as I started looking for the Lady Doctor's room number, ...slowly, I continued on down the hall. Stopping briefly, though, to rub my eyes, ...as the acrid toxins started to burn my eyelids.

  Half pissed off, about not being forewarned of this toxic assault, I staggered directly toward the over-sized desk counter at the end of the hall, handkerchief in hand...

  Approaching the huge 'Reception Area', I caught movement behind the waist-high, counter-top. Instantly, directing my focus on an extremely young looking, blonde-haired girl, who appeared to be enraptured by her daily routine.

  She twisted around in a large leather office chair, picking up material from the floor and stuffing it into its appropriate place.

  Abruptly, she turned to the side and sneezed, followed by a round of coughing, she then, quickly turned back around again to resume her task. She seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that I was standing right there watching her the entire time.

  Pausing to fiddle with some No.2 pencils, she simply set them aside, returning her focus to her work; quickly stuffing loose paperwork into a large brown manila folder.
As I quietly stepped up to the desk, I watched her slender body with a mixture of arousal and slight embarrassment. She looked as if she had just gotten off of a school bus, and I knew that she couldn't be more than twenty years old.

  Wearing an aquamarine colored, knee length skirt, with of a pair of form-fitting black leggings, her long blonde hair coiled up on the top of her head in a tightly rolled bun; she looked slightly confused as she attempted to organize some very important looking papers.

  Not wanting to startle her, I stood there waiting for her to look in my direction.

    Watching her, busying herself with a pile of paperwork that appeared to be the overflow, from several days of unkempt files, she looked completely confused as she nervously gathered up these random forms and stuffed them into a folder...

  I started looking all around behind the counter, and noticed that the computer monitor was on, and the dark green screen was open to a website that had the image of a giant woman standing in the center of a large, wide-open field.

  The giantess was holding a tiny little person in the palm of her hand. She was dressed in a formal looking, business suit, with a very short skirt. The tiny little 'man', (that she was holding,) was sitting naked inside her open palm, looking down at her feet far below...

    ..."What-the...?", I mumbled...

    "Excuse me?", the girl said, suddenly spinning around in her chair and standing up to face me.

    "I'm So Sorry, Sir!", she blurted out. "I didn't see you there, ...May I help you with something?"

  The sound of her sweet voice instantly drew my complete attention. There was something about the way that she acted when she noticed that I had been looking at the computer monitor.

    "I uh, ...was looking for 'ah, 69?", I muttered, my words sounding weird.

    "With Me?", she curtly answered, raising one brow with a look of wonder...

    "No, no, no, ...I mean, I was looking for a room, ..uh, ...'Room' number, 69, I mean."

    "Oh, ...I see. Well, it's right down the hall there, the one, well, the one at the very end of the hall, ...wait a second, and I'll inform Dr. Harrison that you're here, ...what was the name, please?", she asked.

"Bill. uh, Bill Little.", I said, trying to refocus on why I was here.

"Did you have an appointment, Mr. Little?"

"Yes. um, three o'clock.", I sounded stupid, ...I felt so intimidated by her, ...

  God, she was just a young girl, and yet, ...here I was stammering as I spoke! It was as if I was right back in grade school again, standing in the corner, in front of the entire classroom. (Punishment for not paying full attention in class), waiting for her, (The Teacher) to tell me what I could, ...and couldn't do!

  The young receptionist picked up the receiver and held it to her ear, she punched a couple buttons and tilted her head to the side. Lifting her shoulder up, she pinned the receiver into her neck, and held it there like that, so she could free her hands up,    ...she glanced back up to face me, with a warm smile.

  Her hands went to work on the keyboard, ..and I noticed that the computer monitor went off. The receptionist never paid it any mind, ...however, it was obvious that she had just turned it off; The screen flicked off and instantly went black. The power indicator light, stayed on; waiting for its mistress to give it it's next command...

  "Dr. Harrison? Yes, ...this is Amy. Um, your Three O'clock is here, ...Okay, I'll tell him.

   Yes Ma'am, okay, ... RIGHT. I will, alright, Yes. ...Thank You", she sounded so sweet. 

  Amy reached up, and removed the phone receiver from her ear and replaced it down behind the counter. She looked up at me and smiled. A slight blush flooding around her cheeks; she glanced back at the computer monitor, ...and then looked quickly back to me,

"Dr. Harrison will see you now.", she sweetly whispered. 

  I tried to smile back at her. Only, with, (...what I knew), ...was a stupid looking smile.

  That dumb looking smirk that always appeared on my stupid face whenever I was around a woman. Or, a pretty girl, Or, even a little girl, ...sometimes even; any female, for that matter, ...I was just a stupid ' lump', whenever I was near any member of the opposite sex! God, ...I hated it, whenever I acted this way!

    "Mr.Little, ...are you alright?"

    "Oh, ...I'm, uh. Yes! Yes, thank you very much.", I stammered.

  Walking away, I turned and headed back the way that I came...

    "Sir?", Amy said, raising her voice. "Ms. Harrison's office is down that way", she said. Pointing the other way from the direction that I was going.

    "Oh Yeah, ...69, that's right. I'll just, ...um, go the other, ...I was just uh, ...um, thanks, Ms, Thank you, ...uh, Amy!", I continued stammering, as I headed down the hallway in the right direction to room 69.

  I heard Amy giggle softly, as she sat back down. Her laugh reminded me, (...as the laughter of a girl always did...) of that sinking feeling inside. That, strange, aloneness...

  I felt it coming back again, and I had to get somewhere alone. I had to find a bathroom, ...or someplace where I could pull myself together...

  I stopped and looked down at the floor. That smell off of those chemicals, still lingering in the air, ...I could feel that same old creeping sensation, that I always did, but this time, the feeling was much worse. Stronger. It seemed to completely take my breath away.

  I hesitated, and just stood there looking down at the floor. Suddenly, my head started spinning and everything swirled around me faster and faster and faster, ...until

  I just collapsed right there in the middle of the hallway!

  I must not have been out for very long, because when I felt someone holding my head up, and wiping my face with a wet cloth; I felt like I had instantly reawakened,

  ...I couldn't have been unconscious for very long...


  My social anxiety was something that I'd had to contend with for most of my life. Growing up with an overbearing mother, who found it impossible to allow me to do things on my own; constantly finding fault with everything that I did manage to do, she would go out of her way to 'Correct Me', blatantly demeaning me with her loud, and sharp words.

  Right in the middle of the Supermarket, or where ever we were, it didn't matter where, she would scold me, "Billy!", her ear piercing voice scalded. " Get over here, Right Now!"

  Her open-handed slap would quickly redirect my full attention, whenever I started to slip into my 'Quiet Place', and her harsh belittling tone would always quickly put me in my place!

  My father was always working, and he had no idea of the borderline abuse that she was dealing out to his youngest son, ...and, he was so tired from working a difficult laboring job that he was sound asleep in the days when he was at home.

  Dad made very little money, and was too proud to ask for any type of public assistance, and we did with what we had,... and we settled for less, and we were proud to get whatever we had. We didn't compare ourselves to anyone else, and therefore, we were content, at least that was what I was told, ...and that was what I was supposed to believe, too, ...or Else!

  ....our home; a small two bedroom mobile home parked inside a trailer court on the outskirts of town. My brother left home at sixteen and never came back. He was four years older than I was, and we never really got to know each other too well, ... he always seemed to be slightly jealous of me, and he didn't really want to be around me all that much either.

  I always knew, that I would leave home too, ...just as soon as I could. My mother seemed to realize this, though, (especially, after my older brother had left) and with me, ...she redoubled her efforts; tightening up the strings so to speak.

  Her overbearing presence was a force to be reconned with, on a continuous basis. The ever present Titaness, (That was my Mother) dished out the overly aggressive, threatening, and personally insulting abuse on a daily basis.

  Finding fault with most everything that I did, she would stand directly over me and stare me down, ...towering above me with her physical size being twice as much as mine; she boldly took advantage of the 'size-difference' and seemed to enjoy the fact that she could so easily, force me to do as she ordered; "Keeping me 'In Line", that's what it was, she was 'Training Me".

.  ...that was, what she was doing. Training me, to be a good boy. A well behaved little man.

  That's what she was doing, ...wasn't it? Everyone should be trained like this, and the world wouldn't be such a terrible place! That's what she said, and that was the reason that she treated me like this; that was her excuse for the actions that she took, and the methods that she used, the practice that she followed.

  My bare ass would be raw, with red blistering welts, from her thin leather belt, ...as she held me naked in her arms, ...cradling me within her bosom, as I cried my eyes out, ...

    "I wouldn't have looked at that girl in the shopping center, if she hadn't talked to me first, Mommy!"

  By the time I graduated high school, I couldn't even make simple eye contact with a member of the opposite sex, ...the female, (didn't matter who), ...as far as I was concerned, was an entirely different species. An anomaly, to be particularly wary of; to highly 'Look up too', and always treat, with the utmost respect.

  Most girls, though, they tried to get to know me. After we actually tried to have a simple conversation, ...well, they thought, that I was avoiding them on purpose, like I was being stuck up, toward them, like, I didn't want to be around them! But, ...but, I had missed dozens of opportunities with very beautiful women because of this 'Problem'. My life was severely disrupted to the point of complete ruin...

    I had no idea 'Why'...


    "Mr.Little, ...are you alright, ...should I call an ambulance or something?", a soft spoken female voice asked.

    "eh, ...I don't think so.", I said. slowly lifting my head up, and sitting upright.

  The solid floor was so hard and cool. I placed my hands down on my hips, to brace myself, as I looked up to see who it was, that was squatting down next to me.

  The instant that I saw her face, I suddenly started to panic all over again!

     "Mr. Little, are you sure that you're Okay?", she asked. Sweeping a loose strand of hair away from her face...

     "Let's get you into my office so that you can lie down for a bit, ...alright? Do you think that you can stand?"


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