Author's Note: This one isn't my usual style of story, but I was proud of it and hope the readers enjoy it as well. Let me know, won't you? ~~BrettJ
Dr. Seymour Bernstein looked at his day planner and saw that his first patient of the day was Kay Silvers. "Kay" was the initial of her first name, because the attractive, 35-year old had several and they all started with that letter.
"Kay" suffered from MPD – Multiple Personality Disorder – that stemmed from a childhood trauma. 3 years into treating the woman and he was still no closer to finding out what had triggered that trauma, what had caused her split into three distinct personalities. When Jenna, his secretary, buzzed him that Miss Silvers was here, he wondered which personality he would be dealing with today?
He knew the minute the door opened, because all three personas were so distinctive. He was dealing with "Kitty", the youngest of her three "alters" – a term sometimes used to describe the various personas someone with MPD took on. Some, like Truddi Chase, had several. Some psychiatrists believed in forcing integration, some believed that the patient should make that choice. Seymour believed it was a slow progress and the patient themselves would guide you, as Kay had done so far.
Kitty sat down in the chair across from Seymour, crossing her long legs. Kay was quite tall, nearly 5"10", although Kitty tried to downplay it by wearing flats. She tended to dress simply, wear little makeup, non-descript clothing and current fashions. The attractive woman could quite easily pass for a high-schooler when dressed as Kitty and did indeed have a number of friends who had no idea she was really a 35-year old woman.
"How are you today, Kitty?" He asked, already knowing the answer. Kitty tended to look at the world through rose-colored glasses and everything was sunshine and lollipops to her.
"Oh, I had a great weekend, Dr. Bernstein," Kitty grinned, snapping a piece of gum, one of her vices. "I got
fucked
for the first time over the weekend, it was great – sex is great!"
Seymour sighed. Kitty had enjoyed, at last count, at least 16 "firsts", bringing this one to a tally of 17. He would try to get her to understand this simple fact but it was swept away each time, like a clean slate.
"He was wonderful, you know," Kitty sighed. "His name was Jason and he plays football in university, I always did like jocks," She sighed again. "He bought me a few drinks even though I'm not supposed to drink till I'm 21." Seymour made a notation in his files that perhaps Kitty's façade was fading as she was aging. Perhaps she wouldn't be able to pass for 18 much longer. Would the Kitty persona be allowed to leave the teen years? There had been some growth, when he first met Kitty; she was claiming to be 16. He wondered if the young student had figured out Kitty wasn't 18 and just played along to get a piece of tail.
"We went back to his place and we kissed and made out. I know I shouldn't have, but I was really into him. He asked me if I could give him a blow job, but I didn't know how. He showed me what to do and fuck, do I like sucking cock! I didn't gag or nothing and he got, like, way hard. He ate my pussy for a bit and then he had me get on top of him and we fucked. I don't know where I got all those mad skills, but it was a rilly great fuck, you know? I told Chad I'd call him again real soon, and I will. He's such a great fuck, gawd; I could turn into a real sex addict with a dude like that."
One thing he was trying to impart to the women was that they were sex addicts, all of them. If anyone one of the three of them needed sex, they did something about it. Kitty played the most dangerous game, luckily; up until now, neither she nor anyone else had been hurt. In a few days, Chad would be but a distant memory and Kitty's sexual history would rewind to the beginning.
"Just be careful Kitty," Dr. Bernstein cautioned her. "Sex is wonderful, but these men could be using you and you don't want to get hurt."
Her pretty eyes opened wide. "Oh, Dr. Bernstein, who'd want to hurt me?"
Kitty was the closest thing "Kay" had to an inner child, she could be naïve and trusting and sometimes he feared life was going to devastate her. Her session was coming to a close and he hugged her goodbye, as he always did, and watched her leave. He hoped that she'd be okay until their next encounter.
On Wednesday, it was Katrine who walked in the door. She was wearing a stylish hat tilted to one side, an expensive haute couture suit, a dark blue that hugged her slender body. The skirt was short, but not scandalously so, her legs were in expensive stockings and she wore shoes that likely cost more than a 2-hour session with Seymour. Katrine was the sensual side to "Kay's" persona, she lived for passion and she was the one that painted, composed music and danced. Seymour was a little bit afraid of Katrine, because he found her attractive and she was a terrible flirt. She also spoke with a trace of her Paris-born, long-dead mother and in soft, deliberate tones. She was a highly sexual, intelligent woman who enjoyed the company of both men and women sexually and it was also Katrine, through her stellar paintings, who supported the "women".
"Eet – pardon me, I 'ave to work on zat – it is a great pleasure to see you again, Seymour, you are as debonair as evair," Katrine flirted right away. "I hope zat you are happy and well." Katrine sat down and crossed her legs, letting one of her shoes dangle from her foot. Seymour believed that she had done it deliberately, Katrine did nothing unintentionally, she loved to provoke a reaction. It was because of her that his wife would get a rousing good session in bed tonight, despite his professionalism, Katrine and her stories always got his libido rising.
"How are you Katrine, how is your life going?" Seymour asked her.
She looked around and went to reach into her purse to light up a cigarette. She then remembered that Seymour did not like her to smoke and that she was trying to quit. She smiled and moved into a comfortable position.
"I would say zat – pardon me,
