Samantha took the document, scanning over it. It was written in a lot of jargon, but it seemed to be what the psychologist said. It was a waiver, an insurance form and a sheet, signing off that the other woman had done her due diligence in explaining the safety systems in place. She signed each, so nervous that she almost signed them Samantha as opposed to the Scarlet Sentinel. Lucky she caught that or that could have led to a lot of complications. "I will do my best not to freak out." She could not promise though. She was still very raw from the experience with the Scythe Spectre and in the intensity of a moment, she might lash out without meaning to. Realizing that she was not in strict control of herself was hard for her as she was a bit of a control freak.<br/><br/>It was obvious that the powerful hero was not immune to nervousness and worry. She was solemn and fidgeting, but the determination shine in her eyes. Clearly it was important to contextualize what had happened so that she would be able to move on. She handed the forms back and listened to the therapist explain the important role of a safe word in what was about to happen. She listened to the other woman discuss aftercare, nodding along silently. Then came the pause, the brief intermission between instruction and action where the only noise was a rustle of paper and the slight creak of her chair as she fidgeted.<br/><br/>Seeing the rope and the cloth, Samantha had to focus on her breathing to maintain her composure. No longer was this just an idea, it was happening and she had to force herself to be calm. "Yes, aftercare. I read about that." Samantha mumbled, seemingly more to reassure herself than to show that she understood. The reminder that the psychiatrist could not rob her of her powers the way the Spectre had was reassuring and honestly something that the Sentinel had forgotten in her fight to maintain composure. The fight got harder as the woman came closer.<br/><br/>The promise/threat of taking away Samantha's control had two opposing results. She was trembling ever so slightly, but the Spectre could see that she was squeezing her thighs together to stifle the already growing heat there. Her breathing was shallow and her chest heaved, drawing attention to the tented fabric that showed off her hard nipples. It was clear that the frazzled hero did not even know what she wanted. The touch on her shoulder had Samantha gripping the arm of the chair hard enough that it creaked in protest. The sweetest, most submissive little whimper slipped past those soft lips when her sight was taken and her breathing quivered even as her body became rigid. "Green....everything is green." She mumbled softly, again more a mantra to herself than a declaration.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>