"So," said Dr. Lucy Fischer. "I'll say a word, and you just say the first thing that pops into your mind."
Her patient was lounging in a comfy chair. Couches were out, comfy chairs were in. She was blonde and buxom, and wearing a buttoned blouse tight enough that if she buttoned it to conceal her cleavage, the buttons would probably come off. She had a short skirt, and she'd almost flashed Lucy twice.
"Okay," said Bambi. Lucy had seen her ID. Bambi was her legal name. It made Lucy wonder about her parents.
"Love," Lucy said.
"Sex."
"Luxury."
"Decadence."
"Bold."
"Slutty."
Lisa made some notes and paused. Sometimes people could get on a track, and everything would be about that theme. That didn't always reveal as much as one might like. A pause would enable a reset.
"Fruit."
"Melons."
"Food."
"Cum."
"Clock."
"Nipple clamps."
Scribble, Scribble. "Would you mind explaining that one to me?"
"Nipple clamps can only safely stay on so long, so you have to watch the clock," Bambi explained.
"Battery."
"Vibrator."
"Assist."
"Threesome."
"God."
"Aphrodite."
"Media."
"Porn."
"Bambi, when you came here you told me you were having trouble at your job as a lawyer because you're always thinking about sex."
"Yes, that's true."
"Do you like your job?"
"Not particularly, no."
"Is this the way you dress for work?"
"No. I'll change in the car."
"Isn't there a risk someone will catch you in the car?"
Bambi smiled. "I suppose there is. I think about that sometimes. What if someone were to come along as I'm taking off my blouse? What would they think of me? Would they stay and watch, or get closer? Maybe they'd take pictures."
"What would that do to your career, Bambi?"
"Well, it wouldn't exactly be good for it. Do you think you can help me, Dr. Fischer?"
"I'm not entirely sure you want to change, Bambi, to be honest. Sounds like you don't really want to keep your job, and you're engaging in dangerous behavior hoping you won't have to go to work. What would you do if you lost your job?"
Bambi took a breath. "Sometimes I think about that."
"And what do you come up with?"
"Oh, horribly unrealistic things. Maybe I'd be a stripper. Maybe a porn star. Or maybe I wouldn't be able to do any of those things, and I'd have to sell my body on the streets, spreading my legs for anyone who paid me and swallowing load after load of cum from all sorts of people..."
"Bambi, you're sweating."
"Sorry, Dr. Fischer. I think I was rambling, too."
"A little. Those don't seem like very practical solutions, do they?" Lucy thought about how she spent her weekends, which wasn't that different from Bambi's description. She'd been swallowing load after load of cum from strangers at Club Incognito for a while, although lately she'd gotten to suck the Director's cock regularly as well. Something in him had changed since that night Dante had showed up, and she liked that change.
Still, she didn't make a living giving blowjobs. Julie Ann made a living from being a topless waitress, though. She was pretty sure the club didn't pay her lawyer rates, though.
"No, I guess they aren't," Bambi said. "I have trouble not thinking about them, though. Sometimes I wish I could just offer the jury blowjobs, you know?"
I'd help, thought Lucy. "That would probably get disbarred," she said aloud.
"I'm not sure this is helping me," said Bambi.
"I think your sexuality is very important to you, but to do your job you need to learn to compartmentalize. I can work with you on that, although I have a friend who has an alternative therapy method that might be a shortcut."
"A fellow shrink?"
Lucy knew the Director could pass himself off as a psychiatrist if he chose. "Yes. He's mostly retired, but he takes special cases occasionally. I can ask. Would you like me to?"
"Yes, please," said Bambi.
The Director, Lucy knew, could control people who came in contact with his DNA. The more contact, the better. He could influence people a little with a shared breath, more with a kiss, but Lucy didn't think he'd have any problems getting the sex-obsessed Bambi to go further. Once she swallowed his cum, he could remold her, the way he'd trained Lucy to orgasm whenever she made a man cum. He could help Bambi focus on her job during the day, while still letting her be a nympho safely at night.
Of course, it was up to him, not her. She'd simply be offering her suggestions. What the Director wanted was what mattered. Lucy couldn't wait to be on her knees for him again.
"I'll send a text to him. Let's make another appointment for a week from now, Bambi." Although I doubt you'll need it.
"Yes, Dr. Fischer."
***
Cat Vincent walked up the driveway of the large, imposing mansion. There was a light rain, and she wore a dark trench coat.
A woman greeted her at the door. The woman had scarlet hair that hung in waves to her shoulder, and she was wearing a tailored tuxedo jacket and a very short black skirt that obviously went with it, five-inch black heels and seamed stockings. She had an Android tablet in hand and was checking the guest list.
"Mindy Palmer," Cat told her. She had bleached her hair blonde, and she had a fake driver's license to match the name. She wasn't sure it was an adequate disguise, but the Director had rejected anything else.
"Ah, yes, a new girl. Are you dressed appropriately under that coat, Mindy?"
Cat undid the buttons on the trench coat and opened it for the woman's inspection. She had on high-heeled gold sandals, a gold thong bikini bottom, and nothing else.
"Very good, Mindy," said the woman, standing aside. "Coat closet is right there. Go down the hallway to your left to get to the pool. I'm sure you've been informed, but 'no' is not a word we use here, and Dante always gets first choice of the new girls if he wants it."
"Yes," said Cat. She was enjoying herself. She was always playing a role for the Director. Business associate, lover, club owner—they were all roles, after a fashion. But she was an actress at heart, and if that made her a good Jill-of-all-trades for him, this time she felt she was truly putting her best skills at his service. She hung her coat up. She was usually the one who kept her clothes on while the other girls in the Director's service cavorted. Honestly, she thought many of them were more attractive than her. But she knew she was pretty, even if her breasts were on the small side. She was in excellent shape, and her flat tummy looked good in a bikini, even one without a top.
Lately she and Lucy had served the Director's needs in person. For a long time the Director rarely had sex with her, and she got the feeling it was the same with the other girls. Lately things had been different, and he was seemingly insatiable. She suspected his restraint was because he wanted the girls to retain some of their freewill. She wanted, first and foremost, to serve him. She loved being under his control, and she was sure Lucy had felt the same way.
Of course, even if she didn't at first, she did now.
She hung up her coat and walked toward the pool, keeping her posture perfect in the high heels. She wanted to make an entrance.
She opened the door and took in the scene. She hadn't wanted to be the first woman there, and she wasn't. The pool was enormous as backyard pools went, and the fences high enough one didn't have to worry about anyone seeing what went on there. There were many lounge chairs scattered around the expansive patio around the pool. Two women, topless, were swimming in the pool, doing backstrokes. Five others, also in thong bikinis, were simply walking around, just as Cat had been directed to do by the agency that hired her. "Walk around, be seen, wait to be given directions, do what you're told."
There were six men on the lounge chairs, and one of them was Dante. They all had the look of wealthy men; flashy rings or jewelry, designer swim trunks. None of them were particularly handsome, and most of them were quite overweight. Three of them were having their cocks sucked by three women who apparently had been given directions and were doing what they were told. Cat, meanwhile, started walking around to be seen, especially around the two men who weren't Dante. Mentally, she was taking notes, trying to remember any names she heard, and to make sure she could recognize any of the men or women if he saw them, but she kept a friendly smile on her face that hopefully looked made her look sexy and available.
It was impossible to avoid walking past Dante, however, without being obvious. She didn't want to blow him, and he had a taste for the new girls. Of course he did. Like the Director, his DNA carried with it the ability to control minds. That was probably how new girls became regulars at these parties.
"You," he said. "What's your name?"
"Mindy," she said. "Did you wish me to perform a service for you?"
Dante chuckled. "Did he really think I wouldn't recognize you as a blonde? You're the girl from the club."
Shit. Cat tried to look blank. "Hmm? Club?"
"Ah yes, that's totally convincing. I take it all back! How could I possibly be so mistaken? Clearly you aren't Catherine Vincent, age twenty-seven, actress in three local plays, five-seven, one hundred and ten pounds, eyes brown, hair brunette until recently, and door-keeper at the infamous Club Incognito. Tell me, Catherine, what do you think of my little party?"
Cat looked around, as if trying to decide, but mostly to buy herself a moment to think. "It's just Cat," she said. "I don't know why he always calls me Catherine."
"Cat. I like that. He calls you Catherine because he has a stick up his butt," Dante said.
"Yes," she agreed. "He does. It's so tiresome."
"You didn't answer my question, Cat."
