This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere. It contains HETEROSEXUAL, HOMOSEXUAL and LESBIAN sexual activity.
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The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in part or in total, without the author's permission.
This story takes place in the entirely fictional city of Springfield, California, so don't go looking for it on a map. And in my little fictional world, there are no unwanted pregnancies or STD's, except as plot driving devices. The author encourages the practice of safe-sex.
This is part of an ongoing series. Please check out earlier part(s) for background and character history.
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Sally Cox sat anxiously in the big leather chair in Dr. Martin's office. The beautiful redheaded woman intimidated her. At the moment, Dr. Martin was staring over the top of her glasses at the slim young woman. And she was smiling.
'She's got a pretty smile,' Sally thought.
"Sally, you WERE the one who asked to meet with me," Carolyn Martin chuckled. "I'm guessing that 'shy' is one of the reasons."
Sally mumbled something. Dr. Martin just stared at her. "No ma'am," Sally said a little louder. "Well, not entirely."
"So what's bothering you then? Want to know how to get over being shy?"
"I . . . I don't want to be invisible."
"Well, now THAT'S a problem. Except that I can see you quite clearly."
Sally blushed. "No one else does. I don't want to be shy. I've tried to talk to girls . . . and guys," she added quickly. Dr. Martin just raised an eyebrow but let Sally continue. "They just don't hear me. They just keep doing . . . things. Like I'm not even there. I don't care if people think I'm a dork or anything. I just want them to think of me."
"And you think no one thinks of you or that they don't see you?"
"I know they don't. I walked up and talked to this one woman . . . I mean girl . . . I mean . . . no, I do mean girl," Sally stammered. "She was talking with her friends. I said something I thought was witty. They just kept talking. I'm pretty sure I said it loud enough . . ."
"Does this happen a lot?"
"Yes. It did," Sally replied. "No matter what I say . . . no one hears. I didn't think anyone even knew I existed until . . ."
"Until what?"
"Until Pat Baker knew my name."
"You know Pat?" Carolyn said.
"Not really . . . well . . . sort of. She . . . she got into an argument . . . sort of . . . a few days ago."
"She told me about that," Carolyn replied. "So you're the young woman who stood up for her? She was really proud of you for that."
Sally's heart leapt in her throat and pounded against her chest. "Really?"
"Absolutely. She's a smart girl. She chooses her friends wisely."
"I'm her friend?!" Sally said. She thought she was going to have a stroke.
"That's up to you and her," Carolyn said. "But if you talk to her, I've got a feeling she'll listen. Did she suggest you come here?"
"No," Sally said. "She was talking yesterday about how much you've helped and . . . and I wanted to know if you can help me."
"I don't think you need much help," Carolyn said. "You just need someone to listen. I'm willing to bet that more and more people will be willing to do that if you keep trying. But if you ever want to come back and talk to me, my door is always open."
Sally bit her bottom lip. "Really?"
"Absolutely. Even if there's anything else you need to talk about," Carolyn interjected. She had some suspicions about the young woman, but wasn't going to put words in Sally's mouth. She had something else she wanted to say, but then she heard a loud knock on the door.
"Excuse me," the redhead said irritably. She got up and went to the door. Upon opening it, she found the principal, Mr. Primely, standing outside her door. He looked disturbed.
"I'm sorry. I know you've got a session but . . ." He sighed. "There's something you should see."
"Can't it wait?"
"No." Mr. Primely sounded firm.
"It's okay," Sally said, grabbing her book bag and standing up. "Thank you Dr. Martin."
"Remember, you can talk to me any time." Carolyn let Sally out and then followed Mr. Primely, not knowing that she was being followed. The principal led her out to the parking lot where she was treated to a sight that chilled her to the bone.
In front of her was her car. On the hood and the sides were spray-painted the words, "Dirty DykE" and "LesBo SluT."
Dr. Carolyn Martin was shaking with both rage and fear, and she had never felt so . . . violated . . . in all her life.
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