2 comments/ 26147 views/ 1 favorites The McLanahan Clinic Ch. 01 By: Horatio_Scot The room was small, but well furnished. There was the stereotypical psychiatric couch, a desk, a black and white poster of Sigmund Freud and one of Carl Jung stared at each other from across the room. A brace of diplomas were on the wall, and a bronze ingot lay on the desk with the name, 'Janet Ross, PhD', carved roughly into the surface. A young woman lay uneasily in the couch, large breasts barely confined in a tight white T-shirt, shoulder length flaming red hair, pale skin, dressed in a pair of skimpy shorts. An older woman sat slightly to the side, and behind her, taller, with a swimmer's body, long legs, short brown hair, small diamonds glittering from her ears. dressed in tan slacks and a simple white blouse. A tape recorder discreetly recorded the conversation in a corner, as the older woman tapped a pencil against a blank legal pad to attract the younger woman's attention, "Tell me Lucy, why are you here." "I'm a bad girl." Lucy said sullenly. "Why are you a bad girl?" "I've had naughty dreams." "What kind of naughty dreams?" "Mmm, I dreamed I was my family's cumrag." "I don't understand, could you explain that?" "Well I have a father, a mother, and two older brothers. My dad works downtown in an international shipping firm. He found my mother in a brothel in Taiwan, and in-between fuckings, proposed and married her. My dad said he chose her because she was the most beautiful, and the one with the biggest tits. "Then daddy fucked mommy to make my brothers, Ben and Adam. I was born because mommy's pussy wasn't available when Ben was gestating, and mommy hired an expensive fuck toy for daddy, and of course daddy knocked her up while mommy jealously watched, fingered her pussy, as some whore's mouth drank daddy's cum, and some whore's pussy got reamed my daddy's cock, instead of hers." "Who was this other woman?" "My mommy-whore is my next door neighbor, Fiona. Daddy occasionally fucks my mommy-whore because her pussy is super tight, compared to my mommy's pussy, which was loosened by two kids, or so my daddy tells me." "What about the 'cumrag'?" "I was getting to that. When I turned 18, the next morning as I was leaving for school, there was a problem. I remember slathering my makeup on like a slut, since I had the freedom now, I wore my skimpiest, thinnest, smallest, sheerest panties under my uniform skirt, and no bra underneath the starched white shirt. I felt my nipples rub against the roughness of the shirt and harden. "I remember looking down and seeing the stiff little tips pressing against my shirt, and thinking, that with any luck a boy would drag me into the bathroom and rape my virgin pussy into womanhood. Or, if I was really lucky, a whole group of boys like the swim team. And if they were good little boys, they would paint me white with their cum as I was bouncing up and down on some guys cock. "The swim teacher would find me, and after she sucked all the naughty boy's sperm off of me, and made me lick her wet, hairless pussy until she was satisfied, she would secretly call my parents. My mother would come and hold me to her bosom as my father and the swim teacher would speak privately in her office. Soon we would hear squeaks and moans from the office as daddy's cock conquered another pussy. My mother, jealous, would bend down and suck the cum out of my newly violated pussy as she rammed three fingers into her dripping cunt. "She would beg me to talk dirty to her, saying 'talk dirty to me, talk dirty to mommy. Hurry angel, call mommy your cheap gutter slut. Please angel, call me a cum hungry cock queen!' with a strength I didn't know I had, I would grab her by the hair and force her into my pussy, saying, 'once a whore, always a whore, isn't that right you cheap fuck slut. How much did daddy pay to fuck your pussy? How much money to make you spread your legs and beg for it, ten dollars? Well, you're a five-dollar slut to me. Twelve men, mommy, twelve men came in my pussy, suck it out. Your daughter is probably already knocked up. I hope it's a boy, I want to show him how to please his mother, and his grandmother. I want him to be our personal fuck toy. Born and bred to fuck. We'll sleep in my room, chained to my pussy. They all had big dicks mommy, I could feel them on my cervix, my baby's going to have a big dick too.' And mommy would hungrily, loudly suck the cum out of my pussy, and that's how daddy and the teacher would find us. "She would turn to daddy and say, 'I told you your daughter was a fuck slut. Like mother, like daughter.' And then daddy would slap her for her insolence. And instead of hurt, she would look wild, rubbing the palm print and looking at my daddy in need. My daddy would undo his pants, grab her by the hair, and roughly shove is cock into her mouth, silencing her. And daddy would stare at me as he fucked her mouth, and I would wish that it wasn't mommy's tongue in my pussy, but daddy's cock. "I would imagine my daddy as a sultan, and we were all in his harem, ready to perform our duties anytime, anywhere he needed us. We would look at each other as we both climaxed, sharing a moment, and bonding like all good children do. "Later, as mommy drove the van, daddy would take me in the back, and fuck me, and as he splattered my cunt with his cum, he would moan into my ear, 'Good girl, such a good little girl. Welcome to the family, my daughter-whore, your brothers are eager to see you.' "Please may I touch myself?" Lucy begged, her hands gripping the sides of the couch desperately. "I told you no masturbating. You haven't answered my question." "Well, as I came downstairs, my pussy was already wet underneath my clothes. I walked into the kitchen, past my daddy eating breakfast, and ate a fruit, and some juice before walking to the door. Just when I was almost to the door, daddy bellowed, 'Stop!" I turned around as he galloped up, and towered over me angrily. 'I want that shit removed!' he bellowed to me, and my knees went weak. "I responded, 'what shit?' and daddy said, 'that makeup! Take it off before you leave!' I begged him, 'no daddy, no, I don't want to.' And daddy got this weird look in my eye, and he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me to the bathroom, and pressed me against the countertop, pinning me with his hips as with one hand around my throat, he forced me to look at myself in the mirror. 'You look like a whore!' he shouted, and for a moment, I would imagine turning tricks for daddy, letting strange men fuck me in seedy motels for money, like mom used to. "The pain, the rough treatment, and the vision was too much for me, and I felt my pussy getting hornier. I responded, 'No I don't, I look like a cheap slut!' as I rubbed my pussy against the counter. Daddy paused, and shifted his weight, and then, suddenly, I could feel it. His cock, daddy's cock, the same cock that knocked up my mommy, hard and throbbing, popped between the cheeks of my ass, the head was rubbing the small of my back. I could only imagine it was leaking precum all over his pants. "My shirt, in the meantime had tightened and my breasts pressed obscenely against it, nipples drilling against the fabric. As daddy's eye roamed over me for the first time, not as a daughter, but as a piece of meat, something snapped in my mind, and I started humping aggressively against his cock, kneading it with my ass, as I begged breathlessly, 'Please daddy, please fuck me, your daughter. Make me into a woman. Please, you know what to do. I've heard you with mommy in the night. I've heard how you make mommy beg for it, and I'm begging now. Please daddy, I'm so wet, my pussy is so ready.' "Daddy only looked at me, in bewilderment, and his grip on my throat lessened. I thought if begging didn't work, than insults would. 'Daddy isn't man enough then? Daddy gets it up for a forty year old loose pussied ex whore, but not for his eighteen year old tight pussied daughter? I bet I'm tighter than Fiona, daddy. You probably have to swallow a handful of viagra to fuck mommy. You pig, you'll fuck any woman but your daughter? I bet mommy has to satisfy herself with dildos as you watch. I bet she has to take home strangers to fuck her pussy, reaming her hungry cunt like you should.' Then daddy staggers away, and sits heavily on the edge of the tub, his cock is tenting obscenely out, and a rapidly widening wet spot is growing in his slacks. "I walk close and put my foot on the toilet, spreading my legs, pull my skirt up, and rub my throbbing pussy through my transparent, soaked panties, saying, 'this is what you don't want? How can you deny this, and still call yourself a man?' I pull my panties aside, and sink my fingers in. It feels so damn good. And then mommy bursts through the door, and freaks out. "They argued, screaming occasionally and I was sent here that afternoon." "Why do you think she 'freaked out'?" "I don't know! I had protection! I was on the pill, and I know I wasn't ovulating, so daddy could have fucked me barebacked, and it would have been fine. Besides, I'd rather fuck daddy than anyone else." "Why is that?" "Well, I know daddy has experience. And he's disease free. And I know he loves me." Lucy said, smiling. "It's defined legally as incest, though." Janet pointed out. "Incest isn't all that bad. As long as you don't have kids, it's just fuckin' between two consenting adults." "And I believe that it may have also been statutory rape." "Mmm, I wish he did." Lucy sighed. "Did what?" "Rape me. Come into my room at night, when I was sleeping, and gag me. Handcuff me to the bed, spread my legs apart and fuck me. I would fight him, beg him to stop, but he wouldn't listen, and would pull out just before I could cum and spray his cum all over me. His cock would be like a cum spewing fire hose, and I, my bed, and my stuffed animals would be glazed in his baby batter as he shot rope after rope from his cock. It would drip wetly from the walls onto me, onto the floor. He would wipe his dick clean with my teddy bear, and say, 'thanks a lot, pumpkin, daddy needed that.' and he would leave me like that. I hope I'd never get the smell out." "The smell?" "The reek of a man's cum. I wanted my room to reek of it, so every time I fingered myself alone in my room I could remember that that is daddy's smell. The smell he only lets good little girls smell." "Is that arousing to you?" "Yes. Of course, a woman is only made to worship cock." Lucy said passionately. "You can't really believe that." Janet politely scoffed. "It's true! Look at a penis, it's only made to thrust in, to be the aggressor, and the pussy is made to be the submissive, to take the cock, to receive the cum. And nine months later push out the gift the penis put into her." Lucy said, as if it explained everything. "What about the cumrag?" "Oh, that's simple. I wear only socks and a collar, and I service everyone. Say mommy gets wet watching a movie. Well, she spreads her legs wide, and pulls her panties aside, and I dive in and suck her pussy until she tells me to. Or my brothers. They're both horny young boys, I bet they grow hard at the drop of a hat, and I know they masturbate; I walk into their rooms and sometimes find my panties, all stiff and stained. I wonder if they jerk each other off, passing my panties from cock to cock to wipe the cum off? Mmm, that's so hot." Lucy said, her hips thrusting upwards unconsciously. "And your father as well? Is he apart of this?" "Mmm, yesss. I would wait on my knees by the door to suck out the load he's been building since the night before. It would become open, y'know?" "What would?" "Sex. If my brothers popped a woody, they'd just make me nurse it away. If daddy popped a woody, mommy would mount him and fuck him in the living room in front of us. I would bring my friends over, and they'd watch, guiltily stroking their pussies through their panties as my brothers would use me like a cum rag. They'd brining themselves to orgasm as my friends would watch, and then abruptly leaving before I could have mine. Of course, I'd have to finger fuck my cum-filled pussy in front of my friends to quench the burning in my cunt. "I'd even like to be made class slut. Of course, I'd be chained to a pole, and every guy during class can come up to me and just sink it in when the urge strikes, I'd choke and gag as some boys rammed my face onto my cock and masturbated themselves with my mouth. Horny dikes would grab my hair, spit on my face, and push my head between their thighs and make me lick their hairy pussies. And then, after school, the teachers would have their turn. Or turns, with any luck." The silence stretched between them, Lucy squirmed, her hips making an aborted thrust occasionally. After a handful of seconds, "You know what, I think I know what you're problem is." Janet said, putting the notepad down, and standing. "You do?" Lucy said, her head craning, as Janet padded over to her, and sat on the edge of the couch. "I think you might be suffering from an uncontrolled sexual addiction." "I am?" "I do." Janet said, leaning forward as she ran a finger over Lucy's crotch. Lucy's eyes rolled backward, her back arched, and she moaned loudly. "It's more commonly called nymphomania." Janet breathed into her ear. "I'm a cock hungry nympho? Sweet!" Lucy beamed as Janet stood and propped a hip against her desk. "Well, there is an issue of moderation, with uncontrolled sexual addiction. There are a few drugs we can administer to help you, but the most successful treatment is ordinary therapy and a little discipline." "Discipline?" Lucy said breathily, smiling widely. "Self-discipline" Janet hastily corrected, " But I'm glad you came here now, before you did something you might regret later. You're going to get a roommate to help you," Janet said, scribbling something on a pad of paper, "but he'll be here in a day or two. He's here for physical therapy, not for psychological therapy, and you're going to watch out for him while he's on the mend, okay?" she ripped the note off and handed it to Lucy. "Here, this is a prescription for a small dose of Prozac. Take half a pill every twelve to twenty four hours for the next two weeks. I'm going to schedule you for personal therapy sessions for the next week, and with any luck, group therapy the next." "For how long?" "A month? Maybe. Depends on you. Don't worry, modern psychiatry is very, very efficient. In the old times you'd be... well, let's not dwell on the negative, shall we? Now remember: tomorrow at eleven, here. Okay?" "Yes ma'am." Lucy smiled and left. After the door was closed, Janet locked the door, and walked to her desk in a daze. She stared out the window at the tree for a moment before she opened a drawer and pulled out a large vibrator, unbuckled her pants and slipped them down to the floor. Clad only in panties and a blouse, Janet turned on the vibrator and ran it gently over her lips, and then down, over her nipples. Janet noticed the couch Lucy vacated was soaked, and before she knew it, she was on her knees in front of the chair, licking the wetness of the leather as she the fucked herself with the vibrator, jack hammering it in and out as she rubbed her face in the pool of saliva and cum, imagining herself in the same situation as Lucy--not as a doctor, responsible, proud, and powerful, but as a powerless woman, no, a powerless cunt on her knees and begging, her body viewed not as art to be admired genteelly, but made to be used to strip away a man's cool civility and expose the cunt-hungry fuck monster underneath. She reached climax astonishingly quickly, moaning quietly into the leather, as she shook. After the peak passed, Janet collapsed, light-headed, her strength drained out of her limbs. After a few minutes, the clock on her desk chimed quietly. The next patient was due to arrive in a few minutes. She smiled and pulled the vibrator out delicately, wiping it with a cloth and putting it back in the desk, and then sprayed the couch, and wiped that clean before she walked to her small private bathroom to freshen up. As she slipped on a clean pair of panties, she made a mental note to bring more rags, and more pairs of panties tomorrow. The McLanahan Clinic Ch. 02 Alexander sat, swathed in bandages around his legs, right arm, and head, staring out the window pensively. Shirtless, wearing a pair of thin gym shorts, he was medium sized with hints of an Italian decent, flecked with little cuts still healing on his face and chest, he looked around morosely at what had become the known universe. To Alexander, the known universe was roughly three rooms and a hallway on the fourth floor of the county hospital. He was told there had been an accident. He couldn't remember it. They said he needed neurosurgery to keep him alive. He didn't remember that. They said he was in a coma for a month. He didn't remember that, either. The doctor said amnesia, and it might be temporary. He remembered that. He remembered the doctor saying it evenly, casually, like he had contracted the flu, instead of losing everything. The damnable thing is, he could remember his childhood, barely: three childhood friends, a fort in the back yard, playing in the creek and getting muddy, being yelled at for trailing a line of muddy foot prints thought the kitchen, of ineffectually blaming it on the dog -- but afterwards, it became maddingly vague or non-existent, like trying to grab a hold of a tendril of cigarette smoke. He didn't think he was a smoker, or an alcoholic, or a drug user, there hadn't been any cravings over the past week he could remember. He occasionally felt weird impulses at times, like sudden sadness he couldn't explain, or an almost child-like glee at looking a swimming pool. He had no visitors, and he didn't know he had any living family. There was a ring of pale skin around his ring finger, was he married? Gay? Bi? He didn't know. Sometimes he thought that the sum total of what he knew could barely fill a pamphlet; a very small pamphlet. So he sat, his legs in a cast, his arm in a cast, and his hair shaved off from the neurosurgery they had to perform. The few times he looked in a mirror, he thought he resembled a hairless chihuahua. So he sat, as the spring rains came boiling off the ocean, sitting by the window in his room, staring blankly outside, trying to remember who he was. The squeak of the opening door shook Alexander out of his fretful reverie with a start. He looked questioningly as a young woman wheeled in the food cart with a blinding smile. Ah, he thought without enthusiasm, the remarkable food like substance they laughingly call lunch here. "All that brooding must have made you hungry, right?" She said brightly. Alexander smiled politely, but quailed inside, something about her unnatural perkiness made him queasy. Dressed in pale pink smocks, 'Amber', the nurse's nametag said as she pulled an a tray out. Short and zaftig, her brown hair drawn up into a tight professional bob at the base of her neck, the most noticeable part of her, other than her annoyingly sparkling personality at all hours of the day or night, were her massive breasts tenting out the front of her shirt. Perhaps it was perspective, Alexander mused, they could possibly only be a B-cup, and her small stature would seem to inflate them to amazing proportions. "Looks like beef stew." She said, sniffing at the tray delicately as she brought it over to the rolling table next to the chair. Do I like beef stew? Alexander wondered, but other than a childhood aversion to lima beans and cabbage, he couldn't remember. Then again, he thought wryly, hospital food is not known for its savory taste. The table squeaked a little as she brought it closer, "Feeling hungry at all?" "No, not really." "You have to eat something, you've hardly eaten anything this last week." She said, filling his plastic tumbler with cold water from a Styrofoam carafe. "Perhaps I just want some company." Alexander blurted, surprising himself, "The only people I see are either here to ply me with something, or take it away -- usually with something sharp. Needles and the like. I don't feel like a person, I feel like a talking medical mannequin for people to practice on." Amber froze for a moment, looking at him strangely, before she finished filling the cup, and walked away quietly. Alexander felt awful for blurting that out. These people work hard and have many to care for, what should I care if I'm a little lonely? They save people's lives, like mine. The locks on the cart's wheels clicked off noisily, Amber hesitated a moment, then blurted, "I'll be done in a few minutes, wait for me?" And before the stunned Alexander could respond, she smiled shyly and fled. Her company immediately overshadowed the barely edible meal, once she dropped the perpetually over-perky personality, and started talking about herself. Alexander found out she has an older brother in the Navy that wants to study to become an electrical engineer when gets out. A father dead from cirrhosis, and a mother still teaching at the local community college, like she has for the past half century, and was first year student studying hard to become an RN while working in food service to pay the bills. Not that she went home a lot, as she was almost always here paying off school bills. Over the next few weeks, it became a routine that Alexander looked forward to and to his surprise, he discovered a desire to talk that he didn't even know he had. While he was unable to talk about much, she was able to fill the gaps, spinning stories and anecdotes from her life with enviable easiness. In return, Amber smiled at his quiet jokes, brought him flowers when she came on shift, ate with him, and bade him goodnight when she left for the night. During the night, Alex had dreams of her that if not erotic, were embarrassingly sensual. He dreamed his legs and arm healed, lying with her on a grass-covered hill, the wind tugging at her hair as she smiles at something he said. One time, they were in bed together exploring each other's bodies playfully, with giggles and moans intermingling for hours. The dreams embarrassed Alexander, and often he would wake with an erection he was unable to deal with. Amber was a good female friend who didn't have any desire to take it any further. And that was fine with him. The McLanahan Clinic Ch. 03 The van's wheels changed tune, slowing as the woman stared hollowly at her hands cupped together lightly in her lap. She sat woodenly in the back of the van, her eyes aching from too little sleep, and nauseous from the trip. She leaned into the turn as the van made a right turn off the barely maintained county road, listening quietly as crunched underneath the tires. "I'd wish they'd throw some money at those potholes Becky, this drive's getting worse every year." The driver groused. Becky smiled as she slipped a battered bookmark into her romance novel and closed it with an authoritative snap. "This is a great place. Private beach, sprawling estate -- I've heard even the food is good. Quite a change, don't you think?" She said brightly, craning around to smile at the woman sitting quietly in the back. The woman nodded quietly. Becky tried another tack, "You can make some friends here during your stay. Wouldn't that be nice?" The woman nodded quietly again. Becky's smile grew fixed as the woman failed to respond and silence lapsed again. The van crunched to a stop, "Ah, we're here." She said as the drive shut off the engine. Becky and the driver jumped out, and the van grew blessedly silent for a moment. The woman could hear a muffled conversation before the back doors of the van opened with a click. "Come on, let's go." The driver said gruffly. The woman shuffled out slowly, blinking, and shielding her eyes at the bright afternoon light. "She's handcuffed?! That is not acceptable!" A woman bellowed. "It's for her protection." Becky said stiffly. The woman Becky was talking to was shorter, plumper, looked more motherly to Becky's bony hawk-like features, but Becky still retreated a step defensively when she leaned forward angrily. "Protection from what?! No, no, I don't want to know. Just take those damn things off." "But the laws..." "NOW!" She bellowed. "Carl, you heard the woman, take them off." Becky said, then thrust a battered metal clipboard at the shorter woman, "Just sign at the bottom and she's yours." The shackles around her ankles and hands came off quickly, the driver bundling them up in a small metallic ball he tossed into the back before shutting the doors. Becky collected the clipboard and stuffed it under an arm before reciting, "Erika Olympia Jiang, you have been remanded into the custody of Alysha Mantegna, director of the McLanahan Clinic. I, as your parole officer, will visit bi-weekly and will receive weekly updates to ensure you are keeping to the terms of your parole. "If, at any time, you violate your parole, you will be arrested and detained at a suitable facility until the end of your sentence, plus an additional five years for parole violations. Do you understand what I have just said to you?" Erika nodded. "Sorry, it has to be verbal." "Yes." "Okay, you have been fitted with an electronic bracelet that will track your movements by satellites down to the inch. Your boundaries are the immediate grounds of the manor. You will receive an audible warning when you are approaching the boundary, and a loud warbling alarm when you have passed them. When you have passed them, the local police are alerted, and you will be found in violation of your parole, and arrested and detained at a suitable facility until the end of your sentence, plus an additional five years for parole violations. "In addition, do not attempt to tamper with or remove the bracelet, as this will activate the alarm. It is waterproof so you can bathe with it, but do not submerse it in water, as this may damage it. Do you understand what I have just said to you?" "Yes." "Good. Erika Olympia Jiang, you have been paroled. Good luck." Becky said, shook the plumper woman's hand politely, and jumped into the van. "Hiya," the plumper woman said, sticking her hand out, "I'm Alysha Mantegna, the director. I guess you're Erika, right?" Erika shied away from the hand and nodded. "Right." Alysha said, dropping the hand to her side. "Come inside, I'll show you to your quarters for your stay." Erika barely glanced at where she was going, keeping her eyes only on where she was walking. "I've read your file, wherever did you learn Hsing-I?" "Godfather." "Ah, and Jeet?" "Godfather." "Capoeira?" "Godfather." "Ah. Well, here's your room." Alysha said stopping in front of anonymous wooden door. A small pad glimmered red on the wall next to the doorknob. "Each room is keyed to the occupant or occupants. Biometrics and the like. Just press a finger to the read pad here on the doorframe, wait until the light turns green, and then open the door." She said, pressing a thumb against the door in demonstration. The light changed green as the door unlocked with a muffled clack. "There. So easy even I could do it." She said with a warm smile, clicking the lights as she led Erika into her room. The first impression Erika had of the room was it strongly reminded her of an upscale hotel room. One narrow bed, a small end table, a scattering of lamps, a spray of probably fake flowers in a lopsided blue ceramic vase, a small bathroom, and a couch that had seen better days pushed up against the wall. "Okay, here's your bed, bathroom's through there. You're therapy schedule is on the table, as is the map of the manor and the surrounding grounds. Lunch is between eleven and one, dinner is between eight and ten, and breakfast is between six and nine. You can get food from the cantina in the off hours, but they'll be mostly sandwiches. Laundry rooms are down the hall to the left. We have a game room with some TV's and game consoles and pool tables, that's down the hall and to your left. Follow your nose to the cantina, or the trail of people. Since you don't have any clothes, we'll see what we can scrounge up for you." "That's fine. Thank you." "Not a problem child, I'll leave you to settle in. If you have any problems don't hesitate to ask someone." "Thanks." Erika said quietly. Alysha grinned at her and left quietly. Now left to her own devices, Erika prowled the room twice, peering into empty cabinets and closets filled with a score of empty hangars, finally winding up at the center of the room again. The only thing she could say that had changed was she had more privacy, her own shower, and more space. It still felt like a cell, however. As attractive as a shower and sleep was, something inside her wanted to test the limits of her cage. Getting outside was ridiculously easy. There were only the most basic locks on the doors, and little traffic. Her stomach grumbled noisily as something remarkably smelling like edible food wafted across her nose in her explorations. When she glanced in and saw close to fifty people dining cafeteria style, she shuddered and melted away. Outside, she walked a carefully tended brilliant white gravel path quietly as the wind lazily pushed through trees just starting to bloom. Spring was coming. For a moment, Erika could imagine she was just a young woman enjoying the scenery. The path curved around the manor, and Erika slowed was she saw someone in a powered wheelchair quietly meditating on a waist high granite boulder set beside the path. Upon hearing the quiet crunch of gravel underneath her sneakers, the man twisted around stiffly and called, "Um, help?" Erika pointed at herself doubtfully, looking around for someone else. "Yes, you. Hi, my name's Alexander, and unless you have a charged car battery secreted somewhere on your person, could you give me a push? My battery seems to be dead." "Erika," She said, stepping closer gingerly. "Well, Erika, as long as you're driving, I'll give you the nickel tour. First, let's go thataway." Alexander said, pointing down the trail. Erica strained a little to get the chair moving, but it rapidly moved along in a comfortable clip. "You've presumably seen the inside of the manor, right?" Erika nodded before she realized he couldn't see her from where he sat. "Yes." She said simply. "Well, that over there," he said pointing to a large greenhouse, "is the arboretum." The plowed ground around it is the garden people here manage every year, and I've been told that anything grown gets thrown into the food supply around here. As we round the corner, you can see the pool and the tennis/basketball court. Those poles you see are there so you could string a tarp over, to play tennis in the rain, presumably, though I don't see the attraction, personally. Further out is the pool complex. Complex in the sense that it has a pool and a Jacuzzi close to each other. There are no change rooms, and the entire thing is open-air with only a canvas canopy to keep the sun out, but you're only supposed to use it in the dead of summer, which, I've been told, can be rather hot around here. There is the loading dock for the kitchen over there, in the rare case an actual truck makes its way up that horrendous road." A line of flowers lay in neat little lines in the distance. "What's that?" "The flowers? Dunno. I don't have off road tires for this jalopy, so I can't take it off the track--or wander far from an electrical outlet, apparently. Although the sport concept of extreme off-road wheelchairing does have an odd appeal." He said drolly, and Erika found the corner of her mouth quirking up in shared humor. "Oh, so you do have a sense of humor. That's good. It's practically a requirement in the club." "Club?" "A very exclusive club, it is. Very exclusive. Only three people in it so far. We're so exclusive and secretive that no one else knows about us. Otherwise others would want into the club, defeating the purpose of a secret and exclusive club." Erika pushed the chair around another bend and gaped at the ocean, stretching from the shoreline to eternity. "Ah, there we are." Alexander said, waving at two other people rising from their picnic. "A word to the wise, don't say anything sexual to the one with the red hair." "Is she a prude?" "Gods no, quite the opposite. Just don't -- I'm her roommate, I have to listen to her masturbate when she gets riled up. This wouldn't be bad if she was quiet, but the girl goes at it like it was damn near an Olympic event -- animal noises practically all night. I get little sleep, she gets little sleep, and in the morning it's just damn awkward, okay?" "Okay." Erika said dubiously. The one with the red hair ran up and practically vibrated from excitement. "So, who's yer friend, Alex?" "Alexander." He corrected, "Lucy Miller, meet Erika... I'm sorry, I didn't get your last name." "Jiang." "Erika Jiang." He finished smoothly. "Hi, pleased to meecha." She said sticking her hand out. "Sorry, I don't touch people." "Ah. Psychological then." Alexander said. At Erika's curious look, he replied, "People come here for two reasons that I know of: physical therapy, like me, or psychological therapy like Lucy here. You lacked scars on the outside, so your scars have to be on the inside." "Alex," Lucy whined, "quit giving the girl a hard time." "Alexander." He corrected automatically. "What are you here for?" Erika asked politely. "Because I'm a cock-hungry nympho cumslut." Lucy beamed. "Don't mind her, she's just shy around strangers." Alexander advised Erika dryly. "Alexander, we wondered where you went." The second woman called. "Sorry Stephanie, my battery died because someone here forgot to plug it in. And I can't do it, so that leaves someone here who could, is my roommate, didn't do it, and shall remain nameless!" "Oops." Lucy squeaked, "I knew I forgot something." "I rest my case." "Well, come on Alexander and bring your friend." Stephanie called. "Introductions, Erika Jiang, Stephanie Mujica. Are you hungry?" Alexander asked. Erika's stomach rumbled at the sight of the food spread out on the blanket. "I'll take that as a yes." He said with a smile. The other woman, a slender dirty blonde in a long sleeved dress, smiled and handed Erika a plate ladled with food. "Welcome to the club." she said simply. "What are you here for?" "Depression." "I'm sorry." "Don't be. That's why I'm here." "Why are you eating out here?" "Instead of in there? Well, Alexander has problems getting around in that thing when Lucy doesn't forget to charge the batteries, and Lucy has to stick around him as part of her therapy, so hypothetically wherever he goes, she goes. I go because I like the view out here more than in there, and it's more pleasant to eat with company than it is alone -- part of my therapy. Eat up, I had Cassie prepare it for us." "Cassie?" "Cassandra, the head cook. She does magic with food. Alexander thinks she can be in a high-class restaurant, but I'd take that with a grain of salt." "Oh?" Stephanie pointed to her head and said quietly, "He's amnesic. Pretty bad too, can't remember anything after childhood. So he couldn't remember what a high-class restaurant is even if he's been in one before, but she is very good." "Less talking more eating!" Lucy complained. Erika took the proffered plastic fork and dug in. For the first time in six months, Erika ate food that wasn't "institutional", and her taste buds practically wept with joy. "Do you know who your roommate is, Erika?" "I don't have one." "Really? We all have one, except Stephanie." Alexander said, pointing at her with a fork. "I suspect that's because she's been here the longest." "Rank does have its privileges." Stephanie said with a lazy smile. "So what are you in for, Erika?" "I'd rather not talk about it." "New arrival?" Stephanie asked gently. "Yes." "Today?" "Yes." "Do you have a job here yet?" "No...?" "For those of us that cannot pay out of pocket, we are allowed a job here in the clinic to pay our way. It earns us chits we can spend in the cantina, and keeps this place running, almost. If you want, you can work with me in the arboretum. It's light work in stifling heat, and since Tara left." "Ran away, you mean." Lucy snorted. "Sometimes, some people cannot accept who we are." Alexander said quietly. Stephanie's eyebrow quirked, "So what are we?" she asked evenly. "All of us, to a person, scarred more hideously inside than some wish to admit to. And perhaps even a little envious of those that are not." "Yourself included?" "Of course." "Were you a philosopher in a previous life?" Lucy asked. "Perhaps. I hope not," Alexander made a face; "there's hardly any money in it, except to teach other dilettante philosophers." "Previous life?" Erika asked. "Alexander has gone all mystical on us for that." Stephanie smiled, "Until he remembers who he was, he considers it was as if he died." "Not he, as in me-now, that is, but he as in him-then. The person I was." To Erika's confused look, Alexander replied, "I certainly can't heroically rage against the dying of the light, it was already snuffed by the time I became aware of it." "It's certainly a unique view upon memory loss." Stephanie said to Erika just as Alexander's watch started beeping. "Crap. I'm sorry Stephanie, I gotta get going to physical therapy. I'll see you later, okay?" "Okay, Alexander, I'll see you. Lucy?" "I gotta shove his broke ass around. I'll catch you later. See ya, Erika!" "Goodbye." "Mush, doggie! Mush!!" Alexander called imperiously, making whip-crack sounds as Lucy laboriously pushes the chair towards the manor. "I'll mush you, Alex. I'll tell the therapist to twist you into a pretzel! I'm crazy, you know I'll do it!" "Alexander!" he corrected with a bark of laughter. Stephanie chuckled. "Lucy's a good girl, deep inside. She just needs a little help controlling her hormones--and they left me with the dishes again!" She cried in surprise. "Would you give me a hand with these? We'll just dump them in the kitchen." As they walked together, arms full of dishes, Stephanie said with a drawl, "You know Erika, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." Days passed in comfortable safety of routine of works, meals, and therapy. And then something happened that Erika did not expect. Stephanie was working with the hanging sprinklers, who had stopped working a few days before, when Erika heard a shriek, and the hiss of spraying water. When she skidded to a stop beneath the ladder and looked up to see water spraying all over Stephanie, who simultaneously giggled, coughed, and spat water while she tried ineffectually to stop the flow with her hands. "Quick! Erika, shut the water off before the plants flood!" Erika leapt to the valve and spun the handle, reducing the flow immediately to a slow trickle. "Aw, Erika, it's busted. We're going to have to get a new sprinkler head and run new hose. It's going to take an hour to run the hose, and God only knows where I'm going to get a new head." Stephanie said, climbing down carefully. Erika started to say something when Stephanie turned and started to wring out her hair. Instantaneously, Erika noticed the water spray had done wondrous things to Stephanie's clothes. Not only did her usual loose t-shirt and jeans adhere like a second skin, but her t-shirt became translucent, and for the longest moment in Erika's life, she simply stared in amazement. Stephanie's eyebrow quirked, "What?" "N-nothing. You're wet." She smiled. "I know. I'm going to change in the back, okay?" "Sure." Erika said as Stephanie passed. "You should close your mouth when you stare," Stephanie called out from behind the divider, "it doesn't make you look very bright." Erika felt her ears heat. "I can almost hear you're embarrassment from here. Don't be, you're not the first that looked." "I.... uh... yeah." "We've been working for a while, and I just can't figure out why you were in jail for." "Really?" "Yes, really. You do your job competently, you're a bit too reserved, and I hear your therapy isn't going well." "How do you know that?" "I didn't." Stephanie paused and the wet splat of clothing hitting the ground sounded preternaturally loud in the hush of the arboretum. "Is there anything you want to talk about?" "No." "Do you say that to Doctor Ross a lot?" "Yes." "Monosyllabic." "What?" "Alexander noticed you get monosyllabic when you get defensive." "He notices too much." "He can't help it. He's stuck in a mystery novel with himself as both victim and detective. Which reminds me; mental note: I have to give him some Agatha Christie novels tonight, he might like them. Are you sure there isn't anything you want to talk about?" "Yes." Stephanie sighed, "I'll be here when you do, okay? Now go find Alysha and tell her we need about five yards of piping, a score of connectors, and a spigot head." "Why me?" "Why not you? Besides, I'm going to take a dip to cool off. Now run off and heroically be the bearer of bad news." "Thanks." Later, Erika found herself lying on doctor Ross's couch, mulishly staring at her feet as she recounted the story. Doctor Ross made a note on her notepad, "So what happened afterwards?" "Nothing. She walked out and headed for the pool." "What did you feel during all of this?" "Odd." "Did you do anything afterwards?" "I might have sat by the pool and watched her swim. A little. Talked with her. A little." "Have you considered the possibility that you might be bi-curious, or even lesbian?" "A dyke? Nononono. No way am I some kind of raging dyke." "Really?" "Yeah. Sure. I like the dick as much as the next woman. If that next woman wasn't a dyke. Which I'm not. A dyke, I mean." "Of course." "I'm so flaming heterosexual I could start fires miles away." Erika muttered to herself. The McLanahan Clinic Ch. 03 "Why is the thought of being homosexual affecting you so?" "Because I'm not!" "I didn't say you were or were not. I merely ask why are you so defensive about it?" "I'm not!" "Really?" "I'm nooooh crap." "Stephanie is rather attractive, you aren't the first person to enjoy looking at her." "You mean I'm not the first woman to enjoy looking at her." "There's nothing wrong with simple admiration of beauty. Have you had any experiences along those lines before?" "Once, when I was younger." Erika shook head, muttering, "I'm surprised we didn't put each other's eyes out in the attempt." Doctor Ross smiled, "Sounds like just about everyone's first time. There's no perfect, no matter what you're told, you're both just two people stumbling around in the dark." The clock on Janet's desk chimed quietly. "Time's up. You're too disciplined, now I want you to go out there and let things happen in their own time, for the moment. Think on three things you can let go of and let happen, and we'll talk about it tomorrow." "Okay, thanks Dr. Ross." "Not a problem, that's what I'm here for." Erika left, her mind whirling as she walked to the dormitory on the far side of the manor. She closed her door behind her, stripped, and showered automatically. She best she could come up with as she was toweling off is that she was only admiring her beauty in a totally hetero non-sexual way, since she obviously wasn't a dyke. She paused for a moment and looked at herself critically in the mirror. She knew it was hubris of the worst sort to check herself out in the mirror, but she couldn't stop comparing herself to Stephanie. Where Erika was a body of hard planes and wiry muscles from years of hard martial training. Samantha was soft curves and supple limbs from years of yoga. Thanks to Janet, as hard as she tried to deny that she wasn't looking at Stephanie that way, there was a little part of her that resisted. Erika threw herself on her bed, covered her face with her hands and groaned. What was wrong with her? She was not having feelings for Stephanie. She was not imagining her nude. She was not imagining her nude on this bed with her, and she most definitely was not getting aroused by that thought. Erika groaned into her hands again before sitting up and looking down scornfully at her traitorous panther, already glistening slightly in the dim light cast from the bedside lamp. Erika snarled at her groin, "I know what your game is, lady. I am completely one hundred percent heterosexual--despite your impulses to the contrary. Now you will sit down, shut up, and soldier on, get it?" Erika thought her panther looked a little chastised. The softly glowing clock on the wall read seven forty-five, fifteen minutes to the beginning of the dinner hour. If she hurried, she could avoid it. With a sigh, she slipped on her workout clothes, and slipped out the door. She snagged a few sandwiches and a squeeze bottle of water, and slipped out the back door before the crowd started lining up. Erika walked silently across the darkened grounds to a grassy spot near the pool complex. A lone cloud scuttled across the moon, shadowing the ground around her. Erika stretched easily, warming up quickly, her worries disappearing as she settled into the practiced routines to limber up for what came next. When her foot came down suddenly, stamping the ground, the real work began. Breath hissed between parted lips. Movement became short, sharp, and powerful. Slowly at first, to correct any errors in the form and to harness mental focus, then moderately, to develop fluidity of motion, then quickly, to develop the martial potential. Muscles produced tremendous heat. Sweat beaded and ran. Movement continued. Time became meaningless, only position, precision, and power remained. Then, seemingly as soon as it had begun, it was over. Erika threw her head back, lungs pumping quickly but evenly. She wiped the sweat from her and jumped at the quiet clapping from the pool. "What was that?" Stephanie's voice called out from under the dim shadows of the pool. "It's, uh, Shan Xi Hsing-I Chuan." Erika stammered, mentally off-balance. The splash of water sounded unnaturally loud to Erika's heating ears as Stephanie smoothly levered herself out of the pool. Erika felt like she was punched in the gut when Stephanie stepped into the moonlight, her pale skin glowing ethereally in the pale white light. I'm not a dyke, dykes have hairy legs and wear leather, Erika said to herself, I'm a flaming heterosexual. I am not becoming aroused, it's just muscle fatigue. Stephanie glided over and stopped a few feet away, water beading on her forehead, running down her cute nose, over her lips, gathering on her chin before flowing down her neck, over her collarbone, running between her small breasts, and following the curve of her stomach, between her thighs, down her legs and soaking into the grass. Erika felt her ears heat, and her muscle fatigue increased ten-fold. "Sounds pretty, what does it mean?" Stephanie asked, wringing the water out of her hair. "Literally 'orthodox form intent boxing', or 'orthodox form and mind/will boxing'... or so I've been told." "Could you teach me some of it?" "I...I dunno, it's pretty hard. You have to be in shape to do some of it." Stephanie cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow, "Do I look out of shape?" Erika found her eyes roaming quite freely, part in a frank appraisal of her ability to do the forms, and part something else. Which couldn't be desire--since she wasn't a dyke--It was merely the appreciation of the beauty inherent in the human form. "Well?" "Hmm?" "You've been staring. So do I look out of shape?" "No." Erika almost groaned. "Then teach me." "I, uh, okay...?" "What do I do?" "You, uh, you should know that I've never taught this before. To anyone. So I have no idea where to start." "Start at something basic." "Basic. Right. Okay, one thing you need to understand is that what I'm about to teach you is not self-defensive in nature, but is designed for aggressive offense; disabling or killing the person you're fighting in the minimum amount of time with the maximum amount of force brought to bear. I could teach you something more gymnastic in nature, it'll keep you fit just as well as--" "I wanted to be taught this, and you're going to teach it. Why are you so hesitant?" Erika paused and looked at her hands guiltily. "Just making sure." She said, scrubbing her palms on her pants uncertainly. "I'm sure." Erika smiled and started slowly, teaching the basic positions. Stephanie learned slowly, hampered by bad balance. Oftentimes Erika would have to steady her, holding her by the shoulders or her hips in a strictly professional manner while Stephanie got used to moving in the form. In half an hour, Erika was able to teach Stephanie most of the basics before Stephanie tumbled to the ground, gasping for breath. Erika smiled in sympathy, sitting on her haunches nearby. Stephanie rolled over, her lungs heaving she gasped out, "I thought I was in shape, how in the world do you do that?" Erika, distracted from the mesmerizing view of Stephanie's muscles working on her chest to draw air in and push it out, smiled absentmindedly, "Years of practice. You get in shape, or you have a heart attack, I guess." "I think I'm having one now!" "You're okay. You just went a little overboard. We'll just go slower next time." "Next time?! You are a slave driver!" Samantha chuckled at Erika's smile. "So what do I call you now? Teacher? Sifu? Sensei?" "Erika will do. I'm not really your teacher like a master, I don't know enough; I'm just someone teaching someone who wants to learn." As Stephanie's breathing became less labored, she tried to sit up reached halfway, stalled for a moment before she flopped back bonelessly back to the ground with a groan. "I'm not going to crawl, I'm going to ooze myself over to the hot tub, want to join me?" Erika wanted nothing else in the world. "Sure." "Help me up?" Stephanie pleaded, her arms rising weakly into the air. "Um, sure." Erika said nervously, grabbing Stephanie's wrists and tugging delicately. "I'm not going to break." "I know, I just, uh, just didn't want to pull something." Erika said and pulled her to her feet. Stephanie's hand went around Erika's broader shoulders and held tight as they staggered/hobbled to the hot tub, and with a gasp of pleasure, Stephanie slipped in, quickly sinking to her neck in the already roiling water. "Mmm," Stephanie sighed, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. "This is heavenly. You coming?" "I don't have a suit." An eye cranked open, "It's the middle of the night, were alone, it's dark under the cover, and you're wearing clothes. I fail to see the problem." "I don't want to get my clothes wet." "Then take them off." "I'm not gay." Erika reflexively blurted, regretting it as soon as she said it. Stephanie's eyebrow quirked, "I didn't say you were." Erika felt her cheeks and ears heat. For a moment, all she wanted to do was strip her clothes off and join Stephanie, but she was scared of what might happen afterwards. The silence stretched between them for a minute before Erika regretfully stood, "I'll just get a shower, I have to get up early tomorrow for group therapy." "Therapy before morning coffee, a favorite of Dr. Ross. Goodnight, Erika." "G'night Stephanie." After Erika was out of earshot, "Dammit!" Stephanie cursed quietly. That night Erika lay in bed, covers thrown off, sleeping restlessly. Reality melted and ran together with dreams; Stephanie featured a large part in most. Nearly midnight, Erika woke up and sat up with a growl. "Dammit, what do you want?" She asked her burning, needy panther. And then the noise started. Her neighbor, a woman in for drug therapy, was a screamer during sex, and politely only masturbated during the dead of the night, when everyone was supposed to be asleep. It didn't help things. Erika covered her face with her hands. "Okay, lady, you want it, you get it." Erika groaned in surrender. Quickly, she skimmed her clothes off flinging them into a corner of her room and ran her fingers over her mouth lightly, circling twice before they headed south, over her chin, shuddering as she lightly caressed her rapidly crinkling aureoles with a fingertip, playfully flicking her swollen stiff nipple, before roughly grabbing it and tugging. Her legs spread, hips thrusting upwards automatically as she caressed her thighs lightly, before her fingers curled, lightly scraping her fingernails over the inside of her thigh with a jolt. Her hand caressed the outer lips, running lightly through the stiff wet hair slowly, savoring the swollen wet heat of herself. The fingers circled, slowly, teasingly, in a slowly decaying orbit around her sex. The heat built and built, until she could take it no longer and first one, than two fingers dived in, slowly stroking in a gentle rhythm. Seconds became minutes. Erika varied the rhythm, faster, slower, short, sharp thrusts, long slow caresses, but something was missing. Then with a guilty sigh, she allowed herself to fantasize about Stephanie. Her quiet moans became sharper, mingling with the muffled yelps of her neighbor melding into Stephanie's voice in her ears. Erika's fingers became Stephanie's fingers, probing and stroking aggressively, while the other hand alternatively rubbed or pulled an aching nipple or stroking her lips gently, her teeth playfully nipping or her tongue licking it as it slid along her skin lightly. Her breath quickened, her fingers moving faster, sprinting towards the finish line with breathless intensity, Erika started whispering quietly between gasps, murmuring quiet phrases of love and devotion to herself, imagining Stephanie was saying them to her, promising her, holding her... loving her. The orgasm, when it came, rumbled up her spine like a summer storm, filled with the fury of stabbing skeins of lightning and deafening peals of thunder, quick to come, slow to withdraw. Erika never knew how long she lay on her bed, trembling and gasping; her eyes squeezed shut against the pleasure, but when she finally felt herself tenuously slip back into her merely human body, she cursed herself reflexively for only a minute before she broke down and wept, hugging the pillow to her chest, quietly sobbing into the top of it, feeling so desperately alone. Erika awoke the next morning sandy-eyed, and tired. She hoped last night was a dream, right until she felt the stickiness between her thighs and fingers, and her achingly sore nipples. With a cold realization she knew it wasn't a dream, her stomach rolled. Erika staggered blearily into the bathroom and stood over the toilet, looking down onto its calm waters, feeling empty and heartsick. The alarm trilled insistently on her bed stand; ten minutes until early morning therapy. Erika stared down at the toilet for one long moment, her mind in turmoil. The alarm kept beeping insistently. Snarling, she spun and twisted the shower spigots. Group therapy did not go well. Erika viciously stabbed the trowel into the ground and twisted, forming a new hole for the tiny plants Stephanie wanted to move from the nursery into the garden. The work was cathartic; she imagined she was sticking the trowel into doctor Ross's face, that hyperactive bitch. When I don't want to talk, that's secret code for I don't want to talk! Erika stabbed into the dirt again. And not you, or any person on this planet is going to get me to talk. "You look like you're murdering something." Alexander called. Erika paused, looking up as he whined closer, "Not some thing, some one." "Heard you had a bad time at therapy." "I haven't had a good therapy session ever." "You want to talk about it?" "NO! I don't want to talk about it! Why does everyone want to talk about it?! WHY CAN'T I JUST BE LEFT ALONE!" Erika bellowed. Alexander shrugged impartially, "Well, as much as I'd like to, and you may want to," Alexander drew himself up haughtily, "I... have been sent." "By who?" "By our glorious and esteemed director, the good doctor Alysha Mantegna. She wants to see you in her office." "Probably for this morning," Erika sighed. Alexander shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not. But, as a mere mortal, I am not privy to the raison d'être of God or His left hand, the good doctor Alysha Mantegna." "All right." Erika sighed and stood, brushing dirt from her knees. "Do I have time to clean up?" "I was able to gather that there was some urgency to the proceedings." "So, no." "I'd say no." "Then why just say 'no'?" "But I did." Alexander said calmly, with a smile. Erika brushed her hands off and shot Alexander a dirty look. Alexander, to his credit, remained unfazed. "If you run into Stephanie, tell her I'm done digging the holes in the garden." "Okay." Alexander chirped and motoring away with a friendly wave. Erika made her way through the manor, up to the third floor, knocking on the doorframe as she stepped through the open door. "Erika! Good, have a seat." "Yes ma'am." Erika said, eyeing Becky suspiciously, "I'm not sure why you wanted to see me." "Well, it's something I... we deemed important enough to interrupt your therapy." "Look, I'm sorry about this morning, I didn't mean to--" "Oh no, it's not about this morning, though Janet would like to talk to you about that later; its about your sister." "My sister? What about her?" Erika gripped the arms of her chair suddenly, fighting incipient dread. "What's the last thing you heard from her?" "She was entering college, studying to become a psychologist. Why?" "I have terrible news dear, she killed herself last week." Erika felt her heart stop. She paused, frozen in one agonizing moment. "No." A sigh, a whisper, a prayer. "I'm so sorry Erika." "Why?" "She--" "It doesn't matter why, only that she is dead." Becky said brusquely. As Erika went cold, Alysha snapped, "Becky, I have never agreed with you about anything, but you're an ass and I want you to leave." "I don't see what the problem is." Erika flexed her fingers and surfed the first surge of adrenaline with practiced ease, letting the hunger flow. "That's the point. Go. Now. And let this girl grieve." "Sure." Becky shrugged and left, closing the door behind her. "Look, Erika, calm down. Becky's an uncouth twat. I've known this for ages. It won't help anyone to snap anyone in half right now." "She... I..." "I know. I'm sorry, the second I knew about this I tried to get you." "Can... can I see her?" "I'm sorry honey, the funeral is in a few days." "Can I go?" "Becky won't let you. Neither will your parents. I'm sorry." Erika paused, surfing the sudden eruption of white-hot rage. Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a barely suppressed snarl. "Don't. Stop. Stop telling me you're sorry! IT'S MY SISTER THAT DIED!" Erika screamed, standing abruptly. Alysha tentatively reached out, but pulled her hand backs quickly when Erika started bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet, her hands unnaturally still at her sides. "I killed for her. I KILLED FOR HER! Now I can't see her!" Erika started to hyperventilate. "Erika, you've had a shock--" "No shit, lady!" Erika shouted "--and you need to calm down." "Calm down? My baby sister is dead, and I should just calm down. My parents won't let me see her, I should be calm. That... stupid... fuck outside doesn't want for me to see my dead baby sister one last time, and I should be calm." Erika's breath hissed between teeth for a moment before she closed her eyes and turned inward. Discipline. Control. Actions must be disciplined. Power comes from control. Erika thought to herself as she struggled not to explode. "Erika, are you okay?" When she opened her eyes, Erika's warm brown eyes burned in their sockets. "Lady, I am anything but fine." Erika said, her voice a few degrees warmer than liquid helium. "Erika, I swear to you I will try everything to help you; but it's going to take time, and patience." "Time?" Erika said, turning to leave. "I have nothing but time anymore." Erika ground out, opening the door. "There you are. I have to talk to you." Becky said, standing and moving to block Erika's path. "Not now." Alysha spat. "Yes now." "Becky, leave the girl alone." Alysha growled. "I have to talk to her now." Becky said, dropping a restraining hand on Erika's shoulder. "Becky, remove your hand from her this instant." Alysha ordered. "Take it off, or I'll break it off." Erika said quietly, motionless. There was something in Erika's voice, something in her eye that made Becky's hand snap away, much to Erika's grim amusement. Erika walked away, heedless of her direction. She ran into people, uncaring, and before long found herself in the arboretum, milling aimlessly in the narrow isles between the metal tables filled with young plants. Erika went into the back, with the tools, pulled out the small box cutter, and disassembled it, keeping the razor, and tossing the empty frame over her shoulder as she sank to her knees. She looked at the razor blade lying peacefully in her open palm, glittering in the softly diffused afternoon light. So it had come to this. Erika had expected to be dead, murdered in prison years ago, if not by her own hand then by someone. Now it was over. All of it. Erika flipped the razor into the air and caught it easily with her other hand, watching it spin over and over in the air before it landed. She tossed it again, watching it spin until she snatched it out of the air and with a vicious jerk, sliced into the flesh of her inner arm from wrist to elbow. The McLanahan Clinic Ch. 03 Erika rode the pain like she had been taught, breath hissing between clenched teeth as she frantically sliced another parallel line a fingerbreadth away from the first. She dropped the razor, now slick with blood, and lay down on the cold concrete floor, staring at the ever-widening pool of blood underneath her arm. The door to the tiny room sighed open, "Hey, Lucy, is tha--holymotherofGod!" Stephanie screeched as she stuck her head in. A rush of air stirred Erika's hair as Stephanie collapsed next to her. Erika fought weakly against Stephanie as she tried to close the wounds up with her bare hands, "Erika. Erika honey, you have to help me, I can't close them Erika, please. Please Erika, help me." Stephanie's voice was thin, shrill and panicky. "No." "Erika, sweetie, please, you're bleeding too much, you have to help me." "I've already killed someone, Stephanie. With my hands. I felt his bones break, watched him bleed and beg... watched him plead and die in my hands." Erika whispered looking down at her blunt fingered calloused hands. "Like I've been training to do since I was five, and I wanted to learn to protect myself from my brother." "Hey, Stephanie, where are yoooohshit!?" Alexander asked, sticking his head in the door. "Erika's lost a lot of blood," Stephanie said, looking around wildly. She let go of Erika's arm and pointed at the locker next to Alexander's head, "Hand me the cable ties and get a doctor." Alexander fumbled with the locker before he fished out a wrist thick bundle of ties and tossed them at her. "Erika, hang in there." He shouted as he reversed with a whine. Stephanie fished two ties out of the pack and fitted them around Erika's upper arm carefully before pulling them as tight as she could. "Don't you die on me, dammit, you owe me!" "She's dead. I have nothing, I am nothing. She was the only reason, and now she's gone." Erika sobbed. "No, baby, you have me." Erika smiled and reached out with her other hand and stroked Stephanie's cheek tenderly, "I love you. I've loved you since we met, and I won't ever stop loving you. Let me die. Please Stephanie, just... let me... go..." The McLanahan Clinic Ch. 04 And for the record: I don't know where all of this came from, but I'm kinda glad it stays there... "I have another fantasy, Dr. Ross." Janet rolled her eyes and settles more comfortably into the chair, checking her pad of paper and pencil before she answered wearily, "Do tell, Lucy." "Well, it starts off with me at home. Mommy is reading a paper at the table, my brothers are already left for school, and Daddy is taking a shower. I walk down in my short skirt, tight shirt, no bra, tiny little panties again, and Mommy says 'you look like a common slut, go upstairs and dress right.' I lift my skirt up and run a finger between my pussy lips and say 'Mommy-slut, if you want to see me naked, or just want a taste of daughter-cunt, all you have to do is ask.' I say and walk out. "That day I act like just like Mommy--a super cocktease. Mmm, boys and teachers pants are bulging at the sight of me, and when I trip and fall, my legs spreading wide and flashing everyone, I big hand helps me to stand. It's Ben, the quarterback, and his dick is huge. "He takes me to the nurse's office, and when I sit in the chair, he fumbles for his zipper and pulls his cock out. I'm slightly scared by it, but as he merely looks at me, staring at my hard nipples and my tanned legs as his hand frantically whips up and down his cock, I feel a need burn in my pussy. All too soon he grunts like a pig and he cums, splattering my blouse with a few ropes of semen. He apologizes, but I silence him by licking his dick clean like a woman should, and walking to my class. "When I'm there, I reek of pussy and semen, the semen has turned my shirt translucent, and my little nipples are visible for everyone to see. It's biology class, and they're talking about human reproduction. The teacher calls me forward, and I sashay my way forward, and stand at the blackboard, my arms behind me pushing my breasts out. Mrs. Bell points out my breasts, running her pointer around my nipples, before has me turn around and bend over. She flips my skirt up and runs the pointer over my naughty cunt, displaying how wet and swollen it is, and inviting the class to taste my cunt. The class quickly lines up and runs their hands over my dirty cunt, sticking their fingers in their mouth and sucking my juices off their fingers noisily. "I am ordered to kneel down as Mrs. Bell moves on to male reproduction. She calls Taylor forward, a big football player, and tells him to strip. When he takes his pants off he's got the biggest, thickest cock I've ever seen. I watch as the girls in the front row look at him with need, almost masturbating themselves. Mrs. Bell takes her clothes off and shows off her pornstar body underneath those frumpy clothes, kneels and proceeds to suck on his cock until it's hard, and hanging heavily. "Mrs. Bell starts pointing out the different parts of the cock, licking each of them, and brings him over to me and masturbates him, saying into his ear, 'Look at this cunt, this whore, ready for your seed. Look at that cunt between her legs. I bet she's a virgin. Wouldn't you like to make her a woman, and then your slave? I bet you have to masturbate this thing twenty times a day, huh? I bet you go into the bathroom between classes and jerk one out. Look at this willing cunt, spray your seed over her, make her yours. Fuck her pussy and knock her up, like the good cunt she is. I bet she grows up to be a whore just like her momma, spreading her legs for anyone with money. A five dollar fuck-slut that needs to be taken...' and then he cums on me, three great shots all over my face. I taste it, salty and warm, and it feels so comforting. "Then Mrs. Bell as she has Tylor lay down on the table and mounts him, she tells all the men line up and cum on me for the rest of the hour, two, three, five at a time, until my hair is soaked, and cum is running down my body in warm streams, I'm crying because it's got in my eyes, my makeup is running, I look and feel like a cheap prostitute, and still more men line up. The other women in the class are frantically digging into their pussies screeching insults and saying things like, 'take that from my boyfriend, you cum starved cock whore!', they explode into orgasm, sometimes grabbing each other and grinding each other's pussies together like the sluts they are. After the men cum on me, they move over and gangbang Mrs. Bell, sometime beating off with her hair as she begs them to just rape her. The bell rings and the class leave, leaving me and her. "Mrs. Bell stands up slowly, cum caking her ass and thighs, her hair, breasts, fingers, hands, arms, lips, mouth, face... She starts licking it up, and tells me to go to my next class, or I'll be late. I get to my feet and stumble to my next class, still showered in spunk, and sit down, and the same thing happens. I become soaked by semen, and someone always stops me from fingering myself, I always have a cock to stroke, or something, and after the third time, I beg to be fucked. After the fifth time, I beg to be raped like the naughty cunt I am. But nobody has the balls to be a man and take me like a woman should. I become soaked in semen, and my friends come to me after each cum bath, and lick it from my body as they finger themselves and tell me what a fucking filthy whore I am. When I protest, they slap me, and shout that 'cunts don't speak, they just get fucked!'. "The rest of my day continues like this, with the teacher fucking everyone but me, and all the guys cumming on me before fucking someone else. Lunch is so bad. I get chained to a chair, and men and women walk over and piss on me, or cum on me. Slapping me when I beg them to stop, telling me that I was the new school whore, and would soon be passed from person to person like a cum rag, like I disserved. "I left the school that afternoon hungry, horny, covered in piss and cum, reeking of pussy. I walk into the house, and dad is sitting at the table, paying bills. He looks up at me, sees me dripping, and asks, 'what happened, pumpkin?' I break down and cry, telling him what happened. He hugs me tight and says, 'it's alright, it's alright.' And I feel safe in his arms, and then his grip on my arms tightens, and he says 'I heard what you did to your mother. Calling her a slut. I'm at my wit's end with you. if spanking won't work, than I guess Daddy will have to rape you into good behavior.' I try to get away, but he's too strong. I scream as I struggle against him as he drags me upstairs and ties me up, my arms behind my back, my legs bent and open. He fits a thing in my mouth to keep it open, and I scream, and beg, and cry through it. "Daddy strips slowly, enjoying the wait, as I try to break free. His cock comes out last, hard and thick, bulging with cum. He spits on me, 'only good girls make love, whores need to fuck. Are you a virgin, slut?' I nod yes, as I beg him to stop, that I'll be a good girl, that I didn't mean it. Daddy smiles and strokes his cock twice as he straddles my legs. He bends down and whispers in my ear, 'scream little slut, scream.' And then he grabs me by the hips and thrusts in. A scream as Daddy rapes me so hard. And I scream and beg him to stop as I moan and thrust myself on him. "He stays silent and just fucks me faster and harder, punishing my wicked cunt with his cock. Mom walks into the bedroom from running errands, and I beg her, 'Mommy, Daddy's raping me, make him stop, please Mommy, make Daddy stop raping me!' She slaps me and says, 'shut up, cockslave, that's what little girls get for dressing like a slut. That's what sluts get for calling their Mommy a slut.' She turns and starts talking to Daddy, 'Is she as tight as you imagined?' 'Yes, a tight cunt; just like her Mommy.' 'Mmm, I like the sound of her begging.' Mommy says and strips. "She pulls out a dildo from her dresser, and fits it into the gag in my mouth. I look up at the six inches of plastic cock out of my mouth just before Mommy's pussy comes down on it. My nose is wedged in her ass as she bottoms out, the dildo filling my mouth and mommies ass on my nose, I start to choke just as she pulls up and then drops down, over and over, fucking my face hard. I suck on the dildo, suck on Mommy's juices that flow into my mouth. This is a whore's pacifier; this is a whore's milk. "Mommy and Daddy talk to each other like I'm not there, fucking me hard and talking about how they'll train me to be a good prostitute. Daddy cums in my cunt and each spasm feels like a secret brand. Mommy and Daddy say they hope they've knocked me up. Daddy withdraws, and then I see Brittany, my best friend walk through the door, naked and a thick strap on bouncing in front of her. "Daddy kisses her on the lips, and I suddenly know that Daddy's fucking her too. 'Anything left for me?' she asks, and my Daddy replies, 'her ass.' Mommy gets off, and turns me over, lays down, grabs me by the hair and uses my head like a dildo, fucking her pussy as Daddy walks over makes Mommy suck his dick clean. "Brittany climbs onto the bed behind me and slaps my ass hard, 'this is for all those times you took my boyfriend, you fucking slut. You're my fucktoy from now on.' Then she lines herself up and plunges in. it hurts so fucking much, I scream around the gag. Then she grunts, 'Take that you little fucking bitch. Yeah, you like that, don't you, cunt? You like it when I have this big plastic dick up you? You like that? Oh? You want me to make your little asshole hurt? Mmm, you like that, don't you, whore? What a fucking cunt you are. What a dirty little whore. Oooh, you like it when I have this cock up your ass? Does that make you wet? Huh? Does it make you wet, whore?' she fucks me like Daddy -- hard, slapping my ass while telling me every bad thing I've done to her. Mommy and Daddy beam at her, and call her their real daughter. "She fucks my ass for hours, and I screech and cum so many times. Eventually, she stops and pulls out, and they leave me there, tied up and crying quietly on Mommy and Daddy's bed in a puddle of drying sexstuff. Can I please masturbate?" Janet sighs, "What have I told you about that?" "Not to?" "Very good. And why would I change my position now?" "Because I really need to cum!" Janet closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose slowly. "Lucy, we're here to deal with your psychological problems. If I let you masturbate now, you'll never learn the self-discipline necessary to get over this." The silence lengthened between them, broken only by the scribbling of Janet's pencil. After a minute, Janet groaned, massaging her hand, "This is just one fantasy?" "Yes." "Okay, first... I'm doubling your dosage." "Now?" "Effective immediately. Second, when did you have this?" "Last night." "Last night? Did you masturbate?" "Of course." "What about Alexander?" "He was asleep." "Okay," Janet glanced at the clock, calculating the time left in the session, "Let's hit a few things before our time runs out, we'll get the rest tomorrow, okay?" "Sure." Lucy said, and jumped at the loud knock at the door. "Hold that thought Lucy." Janet said standing and quickly making her way to the door. "Can't you read the sign?!" Janet asked acerbically, opening the door, "It says NOooh hi director!" "Janet. Lucy." Alysha nodded curtly at each of them, "Janet, could I speak to you?" "Sure." "Alone?" "Ah, sure." Janet turned to Lucy as she slipped out, "I'll be a moment Lucy, wait just a second." Lucy smiled understandingly, but when the door closed, her fingers dove into her pants her face taking on a serene smile as she feverishly masturbated. After a minute, the door opened and Janet stepped quietly through. "Look, Lucy..." Janet began, but stops as Lucy guiltily yanked her hands out of her shorts. Janet's brows rose, "Were you masturbating?" "No!" Lucy yelped. Janet's eyes rolled, "I'll overlook this, this one time. I'm sorry I have to cut this short, I have to go to the hospital." At Lucy's worried look Janet reassures her, "No, it's not for me. Erika tried to kill herself, and I need to be there. I am her therapist, after all." "Erika? When?!" "Five minutes ago. I'm sorry, Lucy, I am, but I have to go." "Can... can I go?" "If you think you can be on your best behavior...?" "I will!" She promised. "Get cleaned up and changed, I'm leaving in ten minutes." "Thanks Doctor Ross!" Lucy yelled, bounding for the door. Janet smiled and stood over the chair, staring at the wet spot in the middle longingly, but she was too depressed to entertain herself like that again. She robotically fetched the spray bottle of cleaner and a rag and cleaned the leather before it stained, replacing the bottle and tossing the rag into a plastic sack in her bottom drawer to be laundered later. Janet sat heavily in her chair, turning to face the window, staring blankly at the blooming ivy climbing outside the window shifted softly in the breeze, mentally replaying every encounter she had with Erika, trying to find some sign, some signal she might have missed, with only one thought was caroming guiltily around in her mind, "What could I have done differently?" It was a long ten minutes.