Diagnosing A Fetish Ch 04

"Kat!" I banged the base of my wine bottle against her door. A sudden wave of light-headedness nearly sent me toppling over, but I managed to grip the wall and stay upright. I don't remember how I got here -- I think I was at a bar? Right, I came home and drank some more before coming next door to look for... "Kat! I know... I know you in there," I used my hand to knock this time, although I struggled to form a fist in my enamored state.

"Sorry, I was just..." she opened the door, trailing off once she got a good look at me, "Mallory? Are you OK?"

"F-Fine," I stifled a burp, "I just thought w-we should," I shrugged, "We should hang out. We neva hang out. I brought wine," I held up the open bottle, sloshing around the little liquid that remained.

"I'm sorry, I need to work; I can't drink right now. Here," she took my free hand, carefully leading me into her apartment, "How about you come inside and take a rest on my couch."

Reluctantly, I followed her inside. "Working on a T-Tuesday night? D-Don't be such a," I waved my hand, failing to finish my sentence.

"Tuesday night?" Kat looked at me confused, "It's Friday afternoon."

That wasn't possible. I was just at the bar. I remember leaving the bar and getting into a taxi; it was no later than nine-thirty, maybe ten o'clock. "Nuh-uh," I shook my head, though I quickly became dizzy and stopped. I knew I was drunk, but I hadn't lost all sense of time; there was no way. I came from the bar back to my apartment, where I drank some wine, and then came over here; I was sure of it. But the more I tried to convince myself, the less sure I became.

"OK, I'm going to take this from you," she grabbed the wine bottle from my hand. I tried fighting back, but she overpowered me, taking it to the kitchen. A minute later, she came back with a glass of water, holding it to my lips, "Drink this."

"I don't wanna," I turned my head to the side, "I want wine."

"Drink this, and then you can have your wine back."

Too drunk to stop her, I returned my lips to the glass and swallowed as water was poured into my mouth. As much as I didn't want to admit it, the water was appreciated. It helped lessen the pain of my irritated throat, and I hoped it would also alleviate the headache I had been nursing. As long as it didn't sober me up, I wasn't ready to face my life again. I knew there was something that started this -- something I didn't want to be reminded of -- but with the alcohol coursing through my veins, I couldn't remember what it was.

"Wine," I mumbled, slumping over against the arm of the couch.

"I think we're going to hold off on drinking anymore," Kat sighed, grabbing a blanket and laying it over my body, "So, what's happened?"

I scrunched up my face, "Nothin happened. I feel great."

"Did Dave do something? I don't mean to intrude -- it's none of my business after all -- but I'm worried for you."

"Dave?" I was too out of it to figure out what she was talking about. It was a struggle to keep my eyes open, let alone following the conversation, "What are you t-talking about? We need to get you drunk! Drunk is fun." I wriggled off the couch, standing to find where my bottle of wine had gone. However, after only taking two steps, the blanket had wrapped around my legs and sent me tumbling to the ground face first.

"Shit. Mallory, are you OK?" Kat dashed to my side, helping me sit up, "You're bleeding; let me get something to clean you up. Stay here."

"I'm fine," I blabbered, waiting for my vision to focus. I could taste something metallic in my mouth but felt little pain -- likely due to the alcohol. Wiping a hand across my upper lip left it coated in a layer of bright red blood, the sight of which caused my stomach to turn.

Before realizing she had left, Kat was back by my side with a box of tissues, "Here, I'll clean this up for you, OK?" She dabbed them on my face and wiped what she could of the blood off my hands.

"Idon'tfeelgood," the words all came out in one garbled mess, "My tummy...."

"OK, we're going to get you to the bathroom. I'll pick you up slowly and walk you there," Kat helped me to my feet, wrapping my arm around her waist. Looking at the moving floor made me feel queasy, so I kept my eyes closed, trusting her to guide me. Before long, I was being lowered to my knees, now in front of the toilet.

It seemed we arrived in the nick of time as, just after Kat opened the toilet's lid, a stream of vomit was spraying from my mouth. It was primarily a red liquid from all the wine, though a few chunks were discernible. Not that I was really paying attention; however, I was too busy trying to get it all in the toilet. Finally, after a few minutes of emptying my guts, I felt better and managed to lean back against the wall.

"Are you done?" Kat asked, handing me a wad of toilet paper to clean off my face.

Wiping around my mouth, I nodded, taking her hand and getting to my feet. Dropping the now puke-covered toilet paper into the toilet, Kat flushed it before leading me back to the living room. "You gonna drink now?" I slurred as I laid back down on the couch.

"I have a meeting in five minutes," she looked at the time on her phone, "How about you get some rest, and then I'll come out when I'm done, OK?"

"Meeting shmeeting," I tried to sit up, but Kat wouldn't let me. I gave in when she wrapped a blanket around my body, tucking it into the cushions of her couch.

Leaving to the kitchen momentarily, she returned holding a garbage can that she set beside me. "Use this if you are going to be sick again and can't get to the bathroom," she explained, "I'll be in the other room, but I'll be in a call, so don't come in unless it's an emergency."

As Kat leaned over to fix my blanket, I couldn't help myself and gave her a quick peck on the forehead. She seemed flustered by the action, her face turning red as she stood to full height. "Cute," I mumbled, closing my eyes to rest.

~`~`~`~`~`~

The sound of running water awoke me from my slumber. The sudden realization that I wasn't in my own apartment sent a wave of panic rushing through my body. I couldn't remember where I was or how I got here. The pounding headache and upset stomach were a less than subtle indication that I had drank last night, but I was clueless outside of that revelation.

Looking down, I noticed that the tank top I was wearing had bloodstains around the neck, although they were now dry and brown. The crusty patches above my lips led me to believe that a nosebleed caused the stains. There was a blanket laying on the ground in a ball, beside which sat an empty trash can, but I couldn't remember how either got there.

Despite my body arguing against it, I fought through the pain and nausea to stand up, using the arm of the couch to balance myself as I shakily rose to my feet. Layout-wise, the apartment was similar to my own. On the other hand, the furnishings were significantly nicer, and it lacked the piles of garbage that littered my floors. Walking around, I tried to get some clues on how I got here but came up with nothing. The burning in my throat brought me to the kitchen for a glass of water, but the almost empty bottle of wine sitting on the counter stopped me in my tracks.

"Shit." I remembered what happened last night, how I got here. I was at Kat's, and that must be her in the shower.

I was drunk, and she let me in even though she was working.

I ran a hand through my hair, wincing as the pain in my head worsened at the touch.

She said... she said it was Friday? But I was at RAE? I thought that was Tuesday.

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone. Sure enough, Kat had been right; it was now Saturday morning.

However, the series of missed calls and texts were almost more concerning, all from Dr. Morse. They started two nights ago, an hour after my sleep evaluation was supposed to occur. From then on, there were a few calls every hour. It seemed she switched to texting around yesterday afternoon; maybe my inbox was full? But it didn't make sense -- why was it Saturday? That meeting was supposed to be my chance to improve my sleeping; why would I skip it?

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," I swore under my breath, panicking as more came back to me.

I was blackout drunk for four days. How was that possible? And I bothered Kat while she was working, and I threw up in front of her! And... wait... no. Did I kiss her? Jesus Christ.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes as I tried to control my find and stop it from moving a mile a minute. Everything was spiraling out of control. I wasn't supposed to be drinking; I remember Dr. Morse-.

Dr. Morse. I was instantly reminded of what Tina had told me at the bar, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I needed to get out of here. In my panic, I didn't realize that the shower had stopped running. That meant that Kat would come out of the bathroom at any minute. I really needed to get out of here, now. Not bothering to make sure I got all my stuff, I walked as fast as I could without getting sick to her front door, leaving her apartment, and entering my own next door.

Quickly closing the door, I slid down it and slumped to the ground. The only thing going through my head was how hopeless everything had become. God knows what else I had done in the past four days, but one thing I knew for sure was that I would never be able to talk to Kat again. With the way things had turned out, I realized that there was really no one left. Dave was obviously gone, but now I couldn't trust Dr. Morse, I had completely humiliated myself in front of Kat, and I could only imagine what I did at RAE. Besides, did I really want to go somewhere that Dr. Morse used as her proverbial breeding ground?

"Oh my god," my heart sank to my stomach, "I took a taxi home Tuesday night. That means my car is still parked at RAE." Well, hopefully. After all, it had been four days; who knows what could have happened in that time. If it wasn't towed or stolen, at the very least someone probably had broken into it. RAE wasn't exactly in the best part of town. My only option now was to go find it. Plus, it would give me an excuse to get out of my apartment if Kat came looking for me.

Finding my leather jacket crumpled in a ball on the ground by the door, I dug in its pockets and pulled out my car keys. Putting on a slightly warmer jacket, I locked the apartment door behind me and went outside to call a taxi. It had apparently been days since I had charged my phone, but it still had some battery left -- maybe I had the forethought to plug it in during my drunken stupor. Regardless, I was able to get the call through; now, I just needed to wait. Of course, this was easier said than done as, with the alcohol having worn off, I was once again alone with my thoughts.

I didn't want to think about what Tina had told me. Maybe it wasn't true? Although it seemed a weird thing for her to lie about. Plus, there was no way she would've known so many details if it was a lie. So the only reasonable explanation seemed to be that Dr. Morse had taken advantage of me. It made sense; use the first session as a way to sus me out by peeing in front of me, confirm that I have this fetish, and then be sent to RAE as an offering for horny women. I don't know what she was getting out of it, but it must've been for some sick pleasure if not money.

I could only imagine what may have happened if Tina hadn't been there. That was the one flaw in the whole thing. Why would Dr. Morse send me there if other people knew she existed? Maybe she was just hoping they had forgotten about her, or maybe she thought it would be new clientele unfamiliar with her past schemes. After all, Tina said it had been years since Dr. Morse was seen at RAE. If she was starting to get too popular last time, she might have left town to lay low before coming back and trying again.

No matter how I spun it, this seemed the only reasonable explanation. But, the fact that I fell for it was the part that really hurt. I thought I could trust her when, in reality, she was just another Dave. Another asshole who lied and gaslit me until I believed all their stories and did exactly what they said. Attracting these people seemed to be a habit of mine; fortunately, I didn't let Dr. Morse torment me for three years like I had Dave. Although, if it weren't for Tina, who knows how long it would have lasted.

The site of my taxi pulled me briefly from my spiral, my mind snapping me back to the happy, healthy façade I had learned to master while still married. It felt gross to be pretending as if nothing was wrong, but in the moment, it seemed easier than explaining why I was crying the back of this stranger's car. Not wanting to embarrass myself further, I gave him an address down the street from RAE, and soon enough, we were off.

Unfortunately, I had to go to RAE regardless of where he dropped me off. After all, my car was parked in front of the building; now, I had two dread-filled blocks to walk. Although, it did feel nice to drop the act that my life was together. I'm sure it wasn't healthy to stew in all the negative emotions, but it was good to finally allow myself to return instead of the falsified image of a happy person I created. I wasn't ready to be myself in front of people again, and I probably wouldn't be for a long time. After Dr. Morse tricked me into doing it, there were few people I could trust.

I'm sure the homeless people I walked past here wouldn't have cared either way; it was unlike I would ever even see them again. Still, I flashed a fake smile to every one of them I passed on my way down the street. In retrospect, it felt shitty; I acknowledged them while simultaneously doing nothing to help. Plus, it made me realize how overly dramatic I had been. Most of their lives were in shambles, yet I thought I was the most miserable person because of a divorce and a lying therapist. Of course, I guess my shitty attitude was kind of expected at this point.

By the time I came to RAE, I was back to ignoring everyone. If it wasn't helping either of us, then why do it? I kept my head ducked as I crossed the road, nervous to walk directly in front of the building. The windows were all dark, and the neon sign was switched off, but I didn't want to risk running into someone. It was better to keep my distance; fortunately, my car was parked on this side of the street anyways, a few buildings down.

I was happy to find it in good condition, not towed, and all the windows intact. This wasn't the best part of town after all, and it had been here for four days now. A few leaves were stuck under the wipers, which I managed to yank out, after which the car looked about how I left it. Digging in my jacket's pocket, I pulled out my key fob and unlocked the door.

"Mallory?"

The voice caused me to panic, my head quickly snapping to the left to find its origin. Coming out of the door to Rae was Dr. Morse, her hand up trying to get my attention. "Mallory! I need to talk to you," she shouted, checking both ways before starting to cross the street, "Wait there."

My heart was pounding in my chest as I threw open the driver's side to my car. I dropped myself inside, slamming the door behind me.

I wasn't going to listen to her, not ever again.

Pressing the ignition, the car roared to life just in time, Dr. Morse only a few feet away now. I checked my blind spots as fast as possible before getting in drive and pulling out into the road. In my rear-view mirror, I could see Dr. Morse half-heartedly jogging after the car before eventually conceding.

I looked over my shoulder the entire drive home to confirm that she wasn't following me. I even went home the long way, taking turns that I wouldn't normally just to throw Dr. Morse off if she was behind me. When I pulled into the parking lot of my building, my hands were coated in sweat, my finger shaking as it turned off the ignition. I didn't want to face her.

I couldn't.

The fact that she was at RAE -- that she was looking for me -- had only worsened my situation.

I didn't know what to do anymore. It felt like my life was so close to another precipice -- just one more push from Dr. Morse, and who knows what would happen. I was so beyond exhausted and stressed that even the slightest thing could set me off. Knowing that my therapist -- who is known to abuse and take advantage of women in the past -- was now following me and hoping to do God knows what was more than a little thing.

Unfortunately, I was still in the same place -- there was no one for me to talk to. I considered going to the police, but there wasn't necessarily anything illegal going on here. Nothing I could prove, anyway. My best option was to just go back inside my apartment and lay low. So, as much as it terrified me to do so, I checked over my shoulder one last time before leaving my car.

There was no one around, so I quickly jogged up the steps to my building and went inside, passing through the lobby and down the hall. I'm sure I looked insane, covered in sweat and checking over my shoulder every few seconds. The one woman I passed on my way to the third floor looked like she wanted to say something, but I moved past her too fast for her to get a word out. When I burst out of the stairwell door, my apartment key was already in my hand and quickly into the lock.

I was inside a few seconds later, safe from the outside world and hopefully Dr. Morse. I couldn't do this anymore. Everything had gone too far, and I just couldn't take the stress. As per usual, my life seemed almost to be getting back on track before hurtling further off the rails, leaving me terrified and alone. With nowhere left to turn, I didn't know what to do. With my couch closest, I decided that was as good an option as any and began shuffling towards it.

However, it wasn't a few seconds later that there was a knock at the door, stopping me in my place. My blood ran cold; there was only one person it could be. Dr. Morse followed me home. Despite my best efforts, she managed to follow me home, and now she was here to do God knows what. My suspicion was confirmed when I heard her voice through the wood.

"Mallory," she knocked again, "Look, I know you're in there; I have your address on file. Can you please just let me in to talk?"

Fuck. That's how she found me.

Running my hand through my hair, I panicked, trying to find any possible escape from this situation.

"I think there has been a misunderstanding."

"Go away," I tried my best to sound intimidating, but it came out as a pitiful squeak.

"It will all be better if we talk."

"I said go away."

"Look, I know you talked to someone at RAE, and they told you stuff about me, but it isn't true. If you just gave me the chance to tell you what actually happened-"

"I don't care!" I interrupted, "I don't care what you have to say anymore, OK? You lied to me, and now you're going to just keep lying to me! Go away, or I'm calling the police." This seemed to work; the knocking had stopped. Or so I thought. Not even a minute later, there was more pounding on my door. So, my anger now overflowing, I gave the base a swift kick. "Fuck off!"

"Mallory?"

The voice wasn't Dr. Morse's. Looking through the keyhole, I realized Kat was now the one at my door. Panicking, I quickly flung it open. "Wait, I'm sorry, Kat, I thought you were someone else."

"Oh, it's fine," she seemed surprised, maybe due to the suddenness in which I opened the door, "I'm just glad that you're OK."

"What?"

"Well, last night, you came over, and you were pretty out of it. Then, when I came out of the shower this morning, you were gone and not answering your door."

In my haste, I had forgotten that I was also avoiding Kat for this very reason. I wasn't ready to confront my problems or tell her the truth, but it's not like I could just ignore her now. "I, um... I had to get my car this morning. I'm sorry that I interrupted you during your work yesterday."