The Doctors Casebook Pt 06 Ch 02

The Case Files of Dr. Randall Herringwick

The Case of the Guilty Witch

Chapter Two - Change of Address

CASE FILES - PERSONAL NOTES - PATIENT 217 - DAY 6 - CONTINUED

MARCH 16th

Dear Diary,

This is so weird. It's really sort of hard to describe. The truth of the matter is that I can't seem to remember ever keeping a diary before, much less an electronic one on my laptop. But, of course, I must have been keeping one for quite some time now. I mean, I know all of the super-secret passwords and how to log into the program and everything. What's even weirder is that I can't seem to be able to look back at any of my other entries. I mean, how strange is THAT?! But ... I really, really need to talk to someone about what happened to me today (tonight, actually). I have a new friend now, but I don't think it would be the same, unburdening myself to someone I've only just met. No, I think it would be better to write it down here. In point of fact, I actually feel compelled to do this. I just know that I'll feel MUCH better if I make a record of it; and that's what diaries are all about, right? I mean, even if I know that nobody will ever, ever reads this, it's just about making me feel better. Sure it is.

And if I COULD look back and read all my prior entries, I know that I would find them horrifyingly boring. And those that aren't boring would be depressing. Like that first date with Stu. And the little kiss that turned into a big one. And then that turned into a full-fledged grope-fest, with me trying to fight him off. And then giving up. And then losing my virginity. I'm sure I must have filled a bunch of pages writing about how much it hurt, and the blood and the mess and the smell. And about how often Stu tried to tell me how much I surely enjoyed it. Yep, that entry was probably not boring!

There were other exciting entries, though, I'm certain. Like how I rushed out that night to an all-night drug store and got some sort of birth control pills from a lady druggist who understood what I was going through and gave me something without a prescription. And not all of the entries were depressing, either. Like three days later when my period started. Oh, happy day!

But if you could talk, diary, I'm sure that you'd have a question or two for me. Like when Stu told me to be ready for our next date. He didn't ask me ... he told me. And, of course, I was ready when he knocked on my door. Or how angry he got, when, after he'd practically ripped my blouse off, and I told him it was "that time of the month" for me. I mean, I TRIED to tell him that I had never intended to get him worked up in the first place; but oh man, he yelled about it! And called me a tease. And a tramp.

He didn't stay mad, though, and he considered himself pretty magnanimous when he decided that he would give me another shot at him (even if that's not what I wanted). He'd pick me up next Friday night, he told me. That should be enough time "to get off the rag." I thought hard about it for a couple days. But I never called him to say no, like I swore to myself I would; and, when Friday rolled around, I was ready for him again. We did it in the back seat of his car. It hurt, but it didn't last too long. The problem this time was that he wanted to wait awhile and do it again "when he was ready." It took about thirty minutes for that to happen, but he wanted me to play with his cock (he made me call it a cock) in the interim, while he talked about his job at a brokerage firm; meaning that he complained about all the assholes he was forced to work with. There were so many of them, I began to wonder if there was anybody working there that WASN'T and asshole. It might have been a little better if his cock hadn't been so slimy. And this time, when we did it, he lasted a long time. A long time. I was SO glad I didn't have to go to work the next day. I found it impossible to walk without a limp. Man, was I sore!

I'm sure I wrote about the day he announced to me that we were "going steady." And about the day last month when he decided that we were going to live together. It wasn't all bad, of course. It felt good to be needed. And he DID need me. No doubt about that.

The one entry I would LOVE to read was about the night he made me smoke some of his dope, and we did it in the living room. He made me get on top. He does that a lot. But, this time, he commanded me to touch myself. I've never done that, and I told him so. But he made me. He told me diddle my button, and not to stop until he told me to. I was really buzzed; and the way I was sitting on him, he was way, way up inside me. He started pinching and pulling on my nipples, and he kept telling me: Harder. Rub myself harder. And, oh my God, something happened inside me! I mean, I'd never had one before; but there was no doubt. There was absolutely no doubt that I'd just had an orgasm. Yep, that was it. I'd actually done it. Oh, wow. I told him I thought I'd just cum. He called me a slut. But ... it was worth it.

There's more, I'm certain. There have to be lots and lots of diary entries, though they probably sound pretty much alike. But ... that's not what I should be writing about. I should be writing about what happened tonight. Because, it all changed tonight. Everything. Forever.

Stu and I have been together now for going on two months. Were together, I should say. It's hard for me to think about it finally (finally) being over. Recently, during the past couple weeks, he started making me do things when we went out in public. At first, I guess it wasn't all that shocking ... to anyone besides me. He wouldn't let me wear a bra. He loves doing that to me. Loved. I need to start thinking in the past tense. Anyway, it progressed after that. No panties ... things like that. He says it spices up our sex life. Spiced. And ... I guess it does. Did. I mean, the more he could make me blush, the harder he seemed to pound me when he got home. One time, he jammed it into my mouth so hard that I threw up. Oh, God, that was awful. We had eaten spaghetti, and it ... Well, I don't think I'll write any more about that. But when he did it in my cunt (he makes me call it a cunt) (made me), I could take it pretty well. It took me awhile to realize that what he REALLY wanted to do during sex was to hurt me. So, I would cry out, like I was in pain; and usually, I really was. Anyway, that always (always!) made him cum really hard. And ... that's what it's all about, right? That's what a girl is supposed to do. Please her man. Right?

So, anyway, tonight, he made me wear a really thin blouse with no bra. AND, he made me unbutton the top three buttons. Oh gosh, I jiggled and shook with every single step I took in the three-inch heels he made me wear! And the friction against my nipples drove me crazy! He was taking me to a party that was being given as a part of some convention in town. There must have been a couple hundred people, all jammed into a milling mass.

Almost as soon as we got there, we ran into Miriam. She's a girl in his office ... though I don't know exactly what she does. I get the impression that she doesn't like me very much. Anyway, she said that it was urgent that she and Stu talk about something that was happening at work, so they went off together. And, I was alone. But I wasn't alone, of course. There were people EVERYWHERE. I couldn't turn around without bumping into someone. And ... I was being touched. Hands on my arms. Hands on my waist as someone would move me aside so that they could pass. Suddenly, I felt like I was suffocating. I pushed and shuffled and drove my body through the throngs of people, feeling more and more of their hands. Someone put a big, strong hand on my ass, but I didn't turn to see who it was.

The next room, through a set of open double doors, was still crowded, even though I found it easier to breathe. But, as soon as I entered, I saw my goal. There was yet another room set apart from the rest, and through the door to my right, I could see it. Space. Glorious space. As I cut diagonally across the floor, I even saw an empty chair. Heaven! I didn't realize how loud it had been until I was past it, through that door and into a sort of library room, two entire walls taken up with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The deep breath I took, I am sure, must have sounded like an audible sigh. I blushed. A familiar thing, a blush. I seem to do it all the time. You'd think I'd get used to the feeling.

Despite the appearances from outside, this room was far from deserted. It's just that most people were congregated at the far end, standing around a couch, which had three people sitting on it. I looked longingly at that empty chair, set off against one wall of the room; but my curiosity got the better of me, and I drifted in the direction of the knot of people. I heard a giggle as I got closer, and a collective gasp. There was some sort of show being put on for people's amusement, some kind of demonstration. Finally, I got close enough to hear, but there was only one person speaking while everyone in the group strained to hear. I could finally see them; and ... there she was.

She, of course, was the one in the middle. You could tell that she was ALWAYS the one in the middle. She was the type of person who was the middle of everything. I got the impression that the whole world revolved around her, and it did so happily. She wore a dark party dress that accentuated her bust, and she had the blackest hair I'd ever seen, accentuated by a small spot of pure white. She wasn't what I would call beautiful; and yet, I think any woman there would have gladly traded places with her ... would have happily given up all she had, just to gain a little of whatever it was that made her ... well ... her.

She was flanked on the couch by a man and a woman, both of whom appeared to be asleep, but she was turned so that she could speak directly into the ear of the man, who was sprawled to her left, his head leaning on the couch's back. She spoke in a low tone, so as not to overpower his ear, but which was easily heard by everyone around them.

"Once again, Gene. Tell me again how you will feel about your wife."

"Must ... protect her!" he said almost frantically, as if he'd just realized something profound. "Cherish her! I've got to ... show her! Show her how much I love her! How much I ... need her!"

"Wonderful," the woman husked enthusiastically. "But how, Gene? How can you do that?"

"Um ..." He seemed to be struggling, but he suddenly brightened. "I know! Flowers! She really likes it when I bring her flowers! I haven't done that in ... um ... a long time." He obviously didn't hear the chuckles from those around him.

"Excellent, Gene. What a marvelous husband you are! Now, think about that for a moment, and let me talk to Olivia for awhile." She shifted around until her lips were next to the woman's ear. "He's going to be much more attentive to you. Isn't that nice, Olivia?"

The lady let a smile lift the corners of her lips and chubby cheeks. "Mmmm. Yes." Her head was turned slightly away, and she looked as if she was having the best dream in the world.

"And what price will you pay, dear?"

The smile slipped. "Price?"

"He is about to show you how much he loves you, dear. And he does. He truly does. What are you going to do in return? How can you prove your love to HIM?"

Her brow creased in thought for a moment above her closed eyes. Then she seemed to make up her mind. "Sex. He likes sex. I'll just let him do it to me more."

"You don't seem overjoyed by the prospect. You don't like sex?"

The woman shrugged. "I ... used to."

"What changed?"

"I ... I don't know. It's just routine, I guess. I like the way it feels, but it doesn't last long enough. I like pleasing him, though. I just wish it wasn't so ... messy, I guess. I always have to wash the sheets the next day."

The dark woman patted her arm. "Just a moment, dear. I'll be right back." She turned to the man on her other side. "What about that, Gene? A big, strong man like you ... You want to give your wife satisfaction in bed, don't you?"

He winced, then set his features behind his closed eyes. "That's really none of your ..."

"It's alright, dear. You can tell me. Go ahead. Why can't you give her orgasms anymore?"

He didn't lose his cross expression. "She won't let me! I could lick her to a cum every time. Every time! She'd go wild! But she won't let me anymore!"

The woman in the middle patted his arm. "Hold that thought, Gene. I'll be right back." She spun around to the woman. "Why won't you let him use his tongue anymore, Olivia?"

"Because, then I'd have to use my mouth on HIM! I could do it in the beginning. He'd demand it, and I'd do it. I never did like the taste, but I loved the feeling it gave me, knowing that I'd given him pleasure. But, then one night, he ASKED me if he could. I'd never considered saying no before. So ... I told him. I told him that I didn't want to." She shrugged. "And so, now we don't."

"Tell me, dear: In those earlier days, HE was the one in charge in the bedroom, wasn't he?" The woman was crying now, but she managed a nod. "And, you liked that, didn't you, Olivia?"

The cubby spouse gave a big sigh. "Oh, yes."

The dark woman turned and faced forward on the couch, and she put on a "thinking face," though whether she was deep in thought or simply putting on a show for her small crowd was sort of hard to figure. Finally, she nodded and turned back to the woman.

"Think back to when your marriage was new, Olivia, and the thrill of sex was fresh. Think about how he demanded oral gratification, and you were eager to please. Do you see that in your mind?" She paused while the woman smiled dreamily and nodded. "Vanilla pudding, Olivia. You smell vanilla pudding. His cock oozes its desire for you, and you taste vanilla pudding. When he cums, that's what you taste. And you know, my dear. Now and forever. That is what you will smell. That is what you will taste. Forever. Always. That's the way it will be." She paused to let that sink in. "And the way he treated you in those early days ... you long for that again. Him taking charge. Him leading you through the acts of pleasure. New things. Exciting things. You long to give in to him again. It makes him seem ... so masculine. And you, in turn, feel so feminine. So wonderfully feminine. To follow where he leads, in delight and joy and wonderful gratification. You want so much to do that. And you will again, Olivia. You will anticipate it, and need it and yearn for it when he is away from you. And you will happily submit to it when he wants you."

She turned back to the man again. "And you, Gene, will need to get more creative. Buy some toys. A vibrator, a dildo, maybe a butt plug. She will allow you to pleasure her, now; so, you must take charge and keep her interested. Visit an adult toy store. Maybe a website or two. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Gene?"

"Oh, God, yes!"

"Oh, and help her out with the laundry every now and then. She's going to need to do the sheets more often."

His brow furrowed, but he didn't comment. She took hold of their hands, one in each of hers. "And no matter how hard your partner makes you cum, your greatest sexual satisfaction will be the pleasure you give your spouse. It will always be that way. Always. Time to wake up now, you two. On the count of three. Happy and full of love and desire for one another. One two three!"

She stood up, and the couple, blinking and startled, was forced to stand, as well. The crowd clapped and cheered while the woman brought the two spouses' hand together with her own, and she stepped back away from them. Self conscious and befuddled, the man looked around at everyone, then he shrugged and took his wife in his arms.

A slender, blonde, plain woman suddenly stepped forward from the crowd and touched the dark woman on the arm. "Us next! Oh, please, can you do us?"

"Tina, no!" a large, overweight man behind her admonished. "Christ, Tina!"

But, almost frantic now, the slender blonde grasped the brunette's upper arm in two frail hands. "Please, can you do us?"

And then her breath seemed to go out of her as the woman finally gave her all of her attention. "It's going to be alright, Tina," the woman said gently, but in words that were audible to everyone around them. "Everything's going to be okay."

The large man was beside them now, and he reached out and grabbed the blonde by the arm. "No fucking way, Tina!" he growled. "No way am I going to let this ... this ... woman play around inside our heads!"

But before he could take any further action at all, the dark woman had stepped between them and put her right palm flat against his chest. He was a big dude, and he towered a head above her. Due to her proximity, however, as well as the hand pressing into his chest, he was forced to look down. Their eyes seemed to lock, and they stayed like that, still and silent for a long moment.

"You're a big man," the woman said. Dumbly, the guy nodded. "Strong man," she said distinctly. There was a pause, and he nodded again. "You are not afraid of this. You can protect yourself ... and protect Tina, too. Big guy like you ... you know that you can handle this. You can handle anything. Right?" Yet again, he nodded. "What's your name, big guy?"

"Samuel."

"Sit down, Samuel."

The man's brow scrunched in thought, and he kept that puzzled countenance as he took the previous man's place on the couch. The dark woman held the blonde's hand as she helped her sit on the side of the couch opposite the husband; and then she settled herself between them, smiling confidently. Instead of doing anything with them, however, she turned to all the people around them. "Folks," she said in a voice that was in equal parts authoritative, soft and easily heard, "this will be my last demonstration of the evening. I just want to let you all know that I ..."

And the whole world stopped. Everything just ... stopped. For, as she had been saying these words, she had been looking at all those around her, like a performer addressing a crowded theater, scanning from her right to her left. And, in that instant, she had looked at me.

I think that the best way I can describe it is that I was a fish that had just been harpooned. There was no escape. There was no future ... at least for me, the fish. In that moment, I was no longer myself. A long line, like the one that attaches a harpoon to its thrower, seemed to physically connect me to my conqueror. And the line was her eyes. Those magnificent, inescapable, perfect eyes. Without saying another word for the moment, she rose and walked directly toward me. Silence. The whole room, the whole universe, was silent. While our eyes remained locked, the harpoon seemed to be connected to my heart, for my body was absolutely immovable. I couldn't shy away from her. Of course, I didn't really want to.

She was to me now. "Breathe," she said softly. I blinked, uncomprehendingly. "Take a breath!" she whispered sternly. My lungs were suddenly flooded with cool, sweet air. "What's your name?"

"Simone."

She smiled and my spirit soared. "Simone. Lovely name. I need your help, Simone. Please. Please, can you do something for me?"

"I ... I ... Yes."

"I'm very thirsty. Can you bring me a drink? Please, Simone? Something tall and cold and wet. Ask the bartender. Get two, and we'll drink them together. I'll be through here in ten minutes. Okay, Simone?"

I nodded. She turned away from me, and the harpoon vanished. "But ..." I said in a sort of squeak. She turned back toward me. Miraculously, there was no harpoon this time. She arched a questioning eyebrow. "I ... I don't have a purse," I pleaded. "I don't have any money."

She smiled patiently. "It's an open bar, dear." And she turned away again. Back to the couch. Back to the two people sitting there. Back to her audience.