I smiled and waved goodbye to my nurse as she backed out of the parking lot. It was past time for the office to officially close and I had a little time to finish my paperwork before my last appointment for the week arrived. I glanced at the clock. It was now 6:15 and my charge would be here in a few minutes. Sitting down at my desk I opened my medical reference book and looked through it for a proper diagnosis. Insurance these days was getting reluctant to pay for my treatment, so I had to fudge a little on the paperwork.
To give you a little background, I am a practicing psychiatrist by the name of Doctor Rhymer. My practice covers a lot of different mental conditions and diseases but sometimes the psychiatric community does not recognize my diagnoses or treatments. My treatments cover every type of conditions from simple depression to what society considers sexual perversions. The money is great, but that is really a secondary consideration. The sweetest part of the job is to get paid for doing what you enjoy. This patient was a special case to say the least and it was my pleasure as it would be hers to take my treatment.
The buzzer on my door went off exactly at 6:30. A soft yet vibrant voice came over the intercom. "Doctor Rymer, this is Constance Hightower. I am here for my 6:30 appointment." I looked at the security monitor and a woman with shoulder length black hair was illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. Even though she appeared to be in her late 30's or early 40's, the woman was attractive by most anybody's standards. Pressing the lock release button that was installed under the desk, I heard a short buzz and she turned the handle and walked through my door.
"Good evening Ms. Hightower, I'm Dr. Rhymer," I said standing and introducing myself to the brunette for the first time.
"Good evening doctor," she said in a voice that had an edge or aristocracy in it. Her skin was soft as it touched my hand and I felt a warm tingle move directly from my fingers, up my arm and then down to the more vital parts of my body. Having never met this woman before, I held onto her hand firmly but gently and smiled. Life had taught me that first impressions were the most important. I took a long look at the beautiful creature before me. From the bottom of her feet to the top of her head she was all woman.
"My pleasure Ms. Hightower," I said in my best professional manner. The sparkle of the diamonds in the necklace that she wore around her neck glistened in the artificial electric lights as she pulled off her jacket. It must have cost a small fortune I thought to myself as she turned with her back to me and hung her coat on the rack by the door. My eyes averted to her legs as she turned. It had been years since I had seen a woman wearing black stockings with a seam that moved from the tops of her pristine white shoes, up her legs to her firm thighs and then up to the hem of her dress. Memories of my childhood came rushing in as I recalled the nights I had spent under my covers with a flashlight looking at the pinup models and masturbated like a wild monkey. As unprofessional as it would be considered, I imagined her posed on the pages of those magazines right next to Betty Page.
"Right this way Ms. Hightower," I said motioning to my office door. I watched her shapely hips sway from side to side as she walked. The pair of white 6-inch heels had pushed her ass up into a very neat package that seemed to beg to be fondled. Clad in a tight white dress that clung to her mature body like a glove, it was very obvious that she had taken very good care of herself over the years. Her demeanor did not betray her upbringing. Being a woman of means, she was used to talking down to people and myself being a doctor didn't seem to make any difference to her.
Turning around, she looked at me as if to size me up. I could almost hear the gears turning inside her head as she looked at me. "Please, call me Constance Dr. Rhymer," she said.
"Perhaps later," I said not wanting to get on a first name basis just yet. In stature not a tall man, I always let my patients know who the authority figure in this game was. I stared directly into her baby blue eyes that had just a hint of red from lack of sleep. Although she didn't turn her head, her eyes darted to the side quickly. When she sensed I wasn't going to stop my gaze, she stared directly back at me. I could see into the soul of a woman who was deeply tormented. Before I could help this poor child I would first have to show her who was in charge!
"Could we please hurry Dr. Rhymer, I have a very busy schedule this weekend."
"As have I Ms. Hightower," I said tersely. "First, we need to go over your case a little. Please, take a seat." Not used to taking orders from anyone, the frown on her face made the crowsfeet around her eyes more pronounced. The fact that she did not like the drain on her precious time came through loud and clear! Constance took a seat in front of my desk sat down and I moved behind to my chair. Adjusting herself, she crossed her shapely legs. My mind did it's best to imagine the silky skin of her thighs under her black nylon stockings. Years ago I had learned that you must always keep an air of superiority to your patients. With this in mind, I'd had my chair and desk arranged so that no matter how tall a person was, they were always looking up to me. Busying myself, I picked up her case file that had been sent over from her last psychiatrist and flipped through the pages.
Constance Hightower was her name and not only was she one of the richest women in the country but at 6 feet tall, and a well proportioned 200 pounds, she was what some men would consider amazon. Her fortune had been accumulated the old fashioned way. She inherited it. Ms. Hightower as she was known, was CEO and Chief Operating Officer for Hightower Enterprises. Her grandfather H. J. Hightower had been one of the robber barons from the turn of the century. Like he did shortly after the great depression, she became one of the people who bought up small firms in the mid to late 80's and took them under the wing of her multinational corporation. She assumed the leadership roles in these companies as well as people's lives and used them as she saw fit. Now that in itself was not necessarily a bad thing, but when she used it to pursue her vendettas against people she considered her enemies, she was destroying innocent people's lives. It had been my experience over the years that guilt can overpower a person's life and make them a very miserable being. Other members of the medical community had been unable to help her. As a last resort, they sent her to me to see if my "therapy" would make her feel better. If she cooperated, she was going to get the full treatment and maybe, just maybe she would think twice about how her actions affected other people's lives.
"So if you could give me a list numbered from one to ten, what would the number one problem be for you Ms. Hightower," I asked?
"I am having trouble sleeping at night Doctor."
"And what do you feel is causing this lack of sleep Constance?"
Eyes that were as cold as ice looked at me as she related her story. "I guess it's the stress that is associated with my business. I have been to doctor after doctor and nobody seems to be able to help me. You are my last hope."
