I've been thinking about what happened that moment 10 days ago; I still can't quite believe I did what I did, or that the stituation has taken its current direction.
Walking into that room and seeing Batman hanging there--not Bruce Wayne, not a client, but the actual Batman--I ... I simply lost control of myself. There is no other explanation. All my years of experience and training in my craft simply vanished, and I found myself face to face with .. with this man. I knew who he was under the disguise, but it did not matter. (In subsequent days, it has occured to me that whatever happened that brought him to this point in his life--whatever it was that reduced a legendary vigilante to the level of a simpering bottom--I could surely empathize, whether I wanted to or not.)
I think it was the sight of his erection that pushed me over the edge. I'd seen Wayne in states of arousal many times during our sessions and had been able to tell myself this was all part of the treatment, but--again--this was different. I'd been trying to come to terms with my growing feelings for Wayne already; I am all too familiar with the process of transference, but I...
I suppose I finally acknowledged that this was an extraordinary situation, one for which no amount of education or experience could prepare me. More was at stake here than in any of my previous cases. I decided to follow my instincts into uncharted territory, come what may.
That is the best--the only--possible explanation for why I allowed myself to do what I did next.