The Doctors Casebook Pt 07 Ch 04

From The Case Files of Dr. Randall Herringwick

The Case of the Devil's Advocate

Chapter Four -- Bargain with the Devil

CASE FILES - PERSONAL NOTES - PATIENTS 333 & 334 - DAY ONE (CONTINUED)

TRANSCRIPTION FROM AUDIO - NOVEMBER 12th -- 12:35 AM

HERRINGWICK

Thank you, Lily. Please relax now. Take a break. Terry, can you hear me?

TERRY

Sure. I can hear you.

HERRINGWICK

Can you add anything to Lily's narration?

TERRY

Well, I guess. I don't think it's very pertinent, though. After she sat on my lap and confessed to having had another man's cock inside her, I didn't get to witness much else... not relating to Lily, I mean. Just about everybody was naked by that point, and so I always had a lapful of nude woman to contend with. They all kept trying to get my prick inside them, and after a while, I just gave up and let them. I mean, what the heck did it really matter, anyway? They were all wet and slippery... and a few of them were downright sloppy. I confess they felt good. But, after several minutes, I felt the old, familiar failings. I wasn't going to be able to achieve orgasm. I knew it, somehow. What really confused me was that I was able to remain hard. Once or twice, I began wondering about Lily... about what she was feeling, about how she was reacting, about the possibility of her feeling pleasure... and I felt myself inching toward sexual completion, but the sensation would never last for long.

After a while, I was surprised to note that my sexy, blonde, naked partner and I were the only ones left on the stage. Almost gently, she urged me to my feet, took my hand and led me down into the massive theater room. The only beds left vacant were the ones farthest from the stage, and it was to one of those that we made our way and transitioned to the horizontal. I sort of figured that if I got her to climax, she'd simply lose interest and go away, so I used my fingers and tongue to bring her quickly to a screaming conclusion. But, instead of being satisfied with this course of action, she urged me onto my back and mounted me, riding me, trying almost desperately to bring me to my own sexual peak.

By this time, however, I was attuned to her... to what turned her on... and I reached up and began tweaking her hardened nipples, rolling them between my thumbs and forefingers. She had been scraping them on my chest while she was straddling me, up on the stage. And, as I expected, my sexual ministrations eventually began distracting her from her goal of providing me with pleasure, and she instead began reacting more and more to her own. Eyes closed, hair swinging wildly from side to side, she thrust herself down upon me with unrestrained abandon until she peaked again, and she collapsed atop me and nestled into my arms, humming softly in satisfaction.

I let her kiss me tenderly, and she gently extracted herself from my rod, which had temporarily lost some if it's almost-painful rigidity. "That was wonderful," she said softly, dreamily. "I wish I could have satisfied you, too. I'll go and get your beautiful wife. I'm sure she knows what you want." Then she kissed me and left.

I lay in bed, thinking about the events of the evening; and I'm not sure when I drifted off to sleep. In time, I became aware of a soft, naked body curled up against me. Lazily, I traced my fingertips along the smooth lines of a hip and ass that I knew very well. Lily was dozing alongside me, exactly the way she'd been when I woke up that morning, and exactly the way I knew she'd be the next morning.

"Hello, my love," I told her.

"You are a bear," she responded sleepily.

"Oh," I said. For some reason, I couldn't think of any reply worthy of such a statement of fact. Finally, I asked "Do you think you could find it in your heart to love a bear?"

She perked up at that. "I believe that goes without saying. I fell in love with a bear the moment I realized it was you."

"Ah. I see." I didn't really see, but I figured that she'd appreciate it if she thought I did.

"You're hard," she murmured, wrapping her slim fingers around my shaft and stroking up and down.

"Um... yes," I agreed, arching my hips upward inadvertently.

"And sort of sticky."

"Um...."

"You've had it inside another woman."

"Oh, geeze!" I throbbed in her grasp. "Yes." Before I knew what was happening, she had leaned over me and sucked half of my length into her mouth. "Holy shit, Lily!" I whispered, though it was almost a shout. She'd sucked me once or twice before, but never so enthusiastically or so deeply. I couldn't help but thrust my hips up toward her.

She pulled her face away from me, making a smacking sound, and she looked up at me imploringly while she continued to stroke me with her right hand. It was dark, but I could see something odd about her eyes. They were soft with love, but also sort of wild and unfocused. "It's hard to talk to you while you're a teddy bear," she said earnestly. "But I need to tell you, Terry. I need to!"

"Uh... What?"

"I've been fucked, Terry."

I felt myself lurch in her grasp. "Yes, I know."

"I've been fucked by a snake."

I could feel an orgasm building. "I've heard that's what snakes do. Fuck people."

"He made me cum."

"Oh, God!" I exclaimed softly. I began throbbing.

"It was horrible!" she implored. "It hurt!"

"What!?" I jerked my body upward, bringing my elbows under me and half sitting up, looking down at her. "Somebody hurt you?"

But she ignored me completely. No... that's not altogether an accurate statement, because all of her attention was on me... but only one part of me. "NO!" she wailed, grasping me with both of her hands and increasing her stroking motions to an almost painful tempo. "No, Terry! Don't get soft! It didn't hurt! I mean, not much. I mean... Don't think about the snake! I'll explain all that later!" She lurched downward and sucked me into her mouth, moving downward until I could feel my cock hit the back of her throat, then she eased off a little and sucked voraciously. I don't think I've ever been more confused in my life.

Relinquishing her oral task and raising her body until she was on her knees beside me, she shoved me hard with a right hand to my chest until I finally gave up and thumped back onto the bed. She was stroking me furiously again, up and down with strong fingers on my rod; and once she had made me lie back, she used her other hand to massage my balls.

"I should tell you about the other guy, Terry."

"Other guy? What animal was he?"

"Don't be ridiculous. He wasn't an animal. He was just a guy." She paused a beat and considered. "No... he wasn't JUST a guy. All the others... THEY were just guys. And they all fucked me, Terry. All of them. They've all been inside me. A couple of them... up on the chairs... they came inside me. Two of them. I felt them." She closed her eyes, remembering. "I didn't cum, but they did. Inside me." She shivered a little, and despite my confusion, I began to respond. Her eyes flew open, staring down at me, and a huge smile formed on her gorgeously cute face. "Oh, yes, Terry! I kept telling them: 'I'll do whatever you want me to! I belong to you, as long as you're inside of me!' And they thrust into me SO deep, Terry! And I could feel them cum!"

She seemed absolutely overjoyed by the return of my hard-on. "But it was the last one! The last man! He was so different! He didn't want me to tell you. He asked me to keep it a secret... the feelings that we shared. But I told him no. I told him that I would never keep anything from my husband. I would tell you. I would tell you everything!" She paused to suck me again. Almost lazily, she continued. "And he lay me down on the bed." Suck. Lick. Stroke. "And he touched me. He touched me everywhere. And I let him." A long sucking session. "And he mounted me." Lick. Suck. "And he was SO deep, Terry!" Lick. "And he lasted SO long!" Suck. Lick. Stroke. "And, just when I thought he was going to finish, he grabbed me and rolled us over, keeping himself buried inside me, so that I was on top."

She threw her leg over me and mounted me, issuing a long, loud, wailing moan as she slid herself completely down onto my hardness. "Oh, Terry! Oh, gosh, Terry! He was SO deep, inside me! So deep!" She was speaking too loudly. Others were most certainly listening. "And he told me to move! Like this! I moved on him like this! Up and down, like this! And he was SO big! So deep, up inside me! And I did everything he told me to! While he was inside me, I belonged to him! I was his! And he started swelling! Even bigger! Just like you're doing now! And I knew! This was it! It was going to happen!" And she leaned over me, into me, her soft breasts mashed into my chest. And she put her lips to my ear. And she said "Now, Terry!"

And I went off like a friggin' atomic bomb. There are no words to define the power of the feelings that washed over me, saturated me, exploded out of me. One of my hands was on her back, crushing her to me, and another arm was around her waist, holding her lower body in place, while I drove my hips up into her loins. I'd ram upward and throb, disgorging what felt like gallons of fluid into her shaking being; then I'd sort of lose control and relax a little, and we'd fall apart an inch or two; and I'd repeat the straining, pile-driving thrust, my climax akin to a seizure, the pleasure blossoming out of me, pouring through my shaft. I was shaking all over. It seemed to take a long, long time to come down from that dizzying height.

Finally, I loosened the strength in my crushing embrace, but Lily remained against me, nestled into me, her face buried into the side of my neck, and she was sobbing quietly: "I did it! Oh, Terry, I did it!"

I tried to back away from her face, but failed. "Did what?"

She gave an immense sigh. "I gave you pleasure."

"You never fail to give me pleasure," I said, truthfully.

But she ignored that. "You came inside me! I made you cum inside me! You ALWAYS make me climax. Always. Every time. And now, I've returned a little of that."

I sighed heavily and a post coital shiver ran up my spine. "I can think of several pertinent adjectives, but 'little' is definitely not among them. I think that's the biggest orgasm I've ever had in my life!"

She giggled, then drew back and studied my face. "You aren't a bear anymore. Too bad. I sort of liked you as a bear."

HERRINGWICK

Thank you, Terry. Take a break now. Let me think about this a bit.

CHARLIE

Holy crap!

NADIA

I... I think that was the most erotic story I've ever heard!

LORETTA

What did the Prophet give her? LSD?

HERRINGWICK

Probably something very like it... or he believed that's what he was giving her, anyway. The ingredients for Lysergic Acid Diethylamide are not naturally occurring substances. They have to be chemically manufactured.

LSD has a fascinating history. Albert Hofmann, the man who first manufactured the drug, was also the first to try it under laboratory conditions, back in the 1940's. By the way, I saw him once at a medical seminar in 2008, just before he died at the age of 102... still sharp as a tack. In the 1950's and 60's, the CIA conducted an LSD study called Project MKULTRA, which was so heinously bizarre, that it still provides proof for conspiracy enthusiasts that the U.S. government is capable of some horrendously weird shit. In the 60's, a chemist named Tim Scully produced "Orange Sunshine," 99.9 percent pure, with the goal to make enough to give everybody in the country a dose, if they wanted it. But, of course, it was quickly banned and outlawed. Modern underground chemists, however, are not the most trustworthy individuals. There are lots of fake formulas. LSD aficionados have a saying: "If it's bitter, it's a spitter." Based on Lily's reaction, it was probably a phenethylamine derivative. Very quick-acting, very strong, long lasting, and potentially very dangerous, especially when mixed with the other things our Prophet was feeding his guests.

DAPHNE

What about our patients? Do their stories support your theories?

HERRINGWICK

OUR patients?

DAPHNE

Our neighbors. Our friends. The people WE want to help.

HERRINGWICK

(audible sigh) Oh, shit, Daphne. I can't believe you've talked me into discussing this as if it was some sort of class project. (10-second pause) The answers are yes and no... and maybe. We still have one story to go. We don't know what happened tonight. Inasmuch as our study of paraphilias go, we are obviously dealing with verifiable disorders.

CHARLIE

Which ones?

HERRINGWICK

Do you remember me telling you that we might be entering into the realm of normal psychology? Well, in a way, we have. Of all the various types of sexual fixations and obsessions, one of the most common involves dominance and submission. There have been dozens, if not hundreds, of sexual surveys and studies done in the academic and professional arenas; and among those that have addressed these issues, the most respected have determined that almost eighty percent of adults have admitted to multiple fantasies involving either sexual submission or domination. And, more to the point, as many as thirteen percent have told researchers that they have, at least once, taken actions to manifest those desires. Thirteen percent. That's huge. We couldn't possibly call that "deviant behavior."

Lily achieves extreme pleasure from being submissive. That's understandable, as far as simple submission goes. But her husband's unique desires have forced her into a situation that is... psychologically confusing, to say the least. She enjoys the sexual stimulation, of course, but has so far resisted the possibility of becoming romantically entangled with people other than her spouse. She has justified it in her mind with a personal rule: complete physical and emotional surrender when she is being penetrated by a man. But already she is cheating; because that surrender appears to be just as total when a woman embraces and kisses her.

There is danger here. She is a very, VERY sexual person. She truly enjoys all the erotic, carnal things that are happening to her. But she is not a strong personality, and she's being pulled and tugged in too many directions at once. She may be incapable of maintaining these simultaneous psychological extremes.

CHARLIE

Can't we just change Terry's... uh... proclivities a little? Does he HAVE to just be turned on after she's been with another guy?

HERRINGWICK

That's not the case here. You missed something important if you still think that. He lost his sense of sexual stimulation when she began telling him about her "painful orgasm" at the hands of her snake-demon. No, the evidence is clear. It's not just Lily having sex that turns Terry on... it's Lily's PLEASURE at the hands of another person... male or female... that thrills him.

CHARLIE

And that's another thing... the Prophet dude gave her an orgasm. She admitted it. How come she didn't enjoy it?

HERRINGWICK

Ah, the orgasm! One of the most common... and most commonly misunderstood... things in the human universe! We cannot look at a compilation of female orgasms on some porn site without commenting about how differently all women seem to react. And yet, we fail to grasp the most significant concept: that they ARE different! The orgasm is one of the most intimately unique and personal things in a woman's life.

That is, assuming she can have one at all. Ten percent of adult females say they never have, though whether that is due to physical or mental barriers is unknown. About seventy percent of women will never orgasm through coitus alone... needing, at the very least, extra clitoral stimulation to compliment the act.

Different studies return dramatically different results to the question of whether a woman is multi-orgasmic. As few as five percent in some studies, and as many as forty-five percent in others, believe they are. But when asked to DEFINE that term, we again get wildly different responses. Twice in one night meets the criteria for some ladies. Twice in an hour does it for others. Twice during one coupling is another answer. Still others claim to orgasm continuously for as long as stimulation is maintained after they reach a sexual peak. The world record, observed and documented under laboratory settings, is 147 orgasms in sixty minutes.

But, for the majority of women, the limit for their own personal orgasms is one. Some say they need at least an hour or two to recover before they're able to try again... with limited success. Others maintain they need a day to recoup. Attempts at forcing additional climaxes any sooner is often met with physical discomfort. Without prompting, many women have used the same term: "over-stimulated." Some liken it to electrical shock, like Lily did.

So, in answer to your question, "What did he do to her?" the answer is simply: nothing special. He just over-stimulated her.

DAPHNE

I'm like that. One is my limit.

SIMONE

Yeah. But I can keep you right on the edge for an hour!

NADIA

Alright, T.M.I.!

CHARLIE

Speak for yourself! Go ahead, Simone. Give us all the "I" you want. Ouch! Hey! No hitting!

NADIA

Pig!

HERRINGWICK

Now, children! It's getting late. Let's wrap this up. Time for our final chapter.

Lily, I'm assuming that nothing much else happened that night in the theater.

LILY

No, doctor. We dozed for a little while, and got up and went onto the stage to find our clothes. Then we just left and drove home.

HERRINGWICK

From what you said earlier, I am guessing that you've seen your "Prophet" again. Please tell us about it.

LILY

Yes. Today. I had been home for about an hour, back from my shift at the convenience store, and there was a knock on my door.

HERRINGWICK

Here!? He came HERE? To this building?

LILY

No, he sent his assistant... his sister. She seemed very nervous... very uncertain. She asked me if I remembered her.

"Sure," I answered, smiling. "You're Gladys." The last time we were together, I had decided that I liked her.

She acted shocked... stunned. "You know my name?"

"Yes. He called you that, don't you remember?"

Clearly, she didn't. She stood in my doorway, swaying a little, her hand to her throat, obviously distressed. Finally, she seemed to make up her mind about something. "I need you to come with me. Please." She saw my hesitancy, and she added: "Please! I need your help. I'm in trouble! Please help me!"

Well, I couldn't say no to that. She waited impatiently while I left Terry a note telling him that I'd be back after a while, and I grabbed my purse and followed her out to her car. We drove west, in the direction of the old theater/church. "What kind of trouble are you in?" I asked her gently, after we'd joined the traffic on the interstate. "Does it involve your husband?"

My question seemed to strike an almost physical blow, and she looked at me so sharply that she inadvertently swerved toward the right lane, earning her a blaring rebuke from the Prius beside us. After a steadying half-minute, she stuttered: "You... you know Dean? He... he told you we were married?"

I gave a little shrug. "We were together for a long time that night while you were with Terry. He's really sweet. I liked him a lot." I paused, uncertain. "I hope you don't mind me saying that. I just want you to know how lucky I think you are."

"Lucky," she murmured quietly. We drove another ten miles before she tried to respond to my comment... and even then, I didn't really understand what she trying to say to me. "Dean and I are having some... uh... problems. It's Frankie. The... um... Prophet."

"Your brother," I said, nodding.

That startled her, too. "Uh... yes. Dean told you." She cast a suspicious glance my way, obviously trying to make up her mind about whether to tell me something. Then she sighed. "You affected Dean somehow. I think he really fell for you. Ever since that night, he's refused to go with me to the orgies... uh... I mean the gatherings. It's thrown off the numbers... the pairings. Frankie's been pissed." She looked at me again for a long second. "Have you and Dean... um... met again since that night?"