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Author’s Note: This one isn’t my usual style of story, but I was proud of it and hope the readers enjoy it as well. Let me know, won’t you? ~~BrettJ
Dr. Seymour Bernstein looked at his day planner and saw that his first patient of the day was Kay Silvers. “Kay” was the initial of her first name, because the attractive, 35-year old had several and they all started with that letter.
“Kay” suffered from MPD – Multiple Personality Disorder – that stemmed from a childhood trauma. 3 years into treating the woman and he was still no closer to finding out what had triggered that trauma, what had caused her split into three distinct personalities. When Jenna, his secretary, buzzed him that Miss Silvers was here, he wondered which personality he would be dealing with today?
He knew the minute the door opened, because all three personas were so distinctive. He was dealing with “Kitty”, the youngest of her three “alters” – a term sometimes used to describe the various personas someone with MPD took on. Some, like Truddi Chase, had several. Some psychiatrists believed in forcing integration, some believed that the patient should make that choice. Seymour believed it was a slow progress and the patient themselves would guide you, as Kay had done so far.
Kitty sat down in the chair across from Seymour, crossing her long legs. Kay was quite tall, nearly 5″10″, although Kitty tried to downplay it by wearing flats. She tended to dress simply, wear little makeup, non-descript clothing and current fashions. The attractive woman could quite easily pass for a high-schooler when dressed as Kitty and did indeed have a number of friends who had no idea she was really a 35-year old woman.
“How are you today, Kitty?” He asked, already knowing the answer. Kitty tended to look at the world through rose-colored glasses and everything was sunshine and lollipops to her.
“Oh, I had a great weekend, Dr. Bernstein,” Kitty grinned, snapping a piece of gum, one of her vices. “I got fucked for the first time over the weekend, it was great – sex is great!”
Seymour sighed. Kitty had enjoyed, at last count, at least 16 “firsts”, bringing this one to a tally of 17. He would try to get her to understand this simple fact but it was swept away each time, like a clean slate.
“He was wonderful, you know,” Kitty sighed. “His name was Jason and he plays football in university, I always did like jocks,” She sighed again. “He bought me a few drinks even though I’m not supposed to drink till I’m 21.” Seymour made a notation in his files that perhaps Kitty’s façade was fading as she was aging. Perhaps she wouldn’t be able to pass for 18 much longer. Would the Kitty persona be allowed to leave the teen years? There had been some growth, when he first met Kitty; she was claiming to be 16. He wondered if the young student had figured out Kitty wasn’t 18 and just played along to get a piece of tail.
“We went back to his place and we kissed and made out. I know I shouldn’t have, but I was really into him. He asked me if I could give him a blow job, but I didn’t know how. He showed me what to do and fuck, do I like sucking cock! I didn’t gag or nothing and he got, like, way hard. He ate my pussy for a bit and then he had me get on top of him and we fucked. I don’t know where I got all those mad skills, but it was a rilly great fuck, you know? I told Chad I’d call him again real soon, and I will. He’s such a great fuck, gawd; I could turn into a real sex addict with a dude like that.”
One thing he was trying to impart to the women was that they were sex addicts, all of them. If anyone one of the three of them needed sex, they did something about illegal bahis it. Kitty played the most dangerous game, luckily; up until now, neither she nor anyone else had been hurt. In a few days, Chad would be but a distant memory and Kitty’s sexual history would rewind to the beginning.
“Just be careful Kitty,” Dr. Bernstein cautioned her. “Sex is wonderful, but these men could be using you and you don’t want to get hurt.”
Her pretty eyes opened wide. “Oh, Dr. Bernstein, who’d want to hurt me?”
Kitty was the closest thing “Kay” had to an inner child, she could be naïve and trusting and sometimes he feared life was going to devastate her. Her session was coming to a close and he hugged her goodbye, as he always did, and watched her leave. He hoped that she’d be okay until their next encounter.
On Wednesday, it was Katrine who walked in the door. She was wearing a stylish hat tilted to one side, an expensive haute couture suit, a dark blue that hugged her slender body. The skirt was short, but not scandalously so, her legs were in expensive stockings and she wore shoes that likely cost more than a 2-hour session with Seymour. Katrine was the sensual side to “Kay’s” persona, she lived for passion and she was the one that painted, composed music and danced. Seymour was a little bit afraid of Katrine, because he found her attractive and she was a terrible flirt. She also spoke with a trace of her Paris-born, long-dead mother and in soft, deliberate tones. She was a highly sexual, intelligent woman who enjoyed the company of both men and women sexually and it was also Katrine, through her stellar paintings, who supported the “women”.
“Eet – pardon me, I ‘ave to work on zat – it is a great pleasure to see you again, Seymour, you are as debonair as evair,” Katrine flirted right away. “I hope zat you are happy and well.” Katrine sat down and crossed her legs, letting one of her shoes dangle from her foot. Seymour believed that she had done it deliberately, Katrine did nothing unintentionally, she loved to provoke a reaction. It was because of her that his wife would get a rousing good session in bed tonight, despite his professionalism, Katrine and her stories always got his libido rising.
“How are you Katrine, how is your life going?” Seymour asked her.
She looked around and went to reach into her purse to light up a cigarette. She then remembered that Seymour did not like her to smoke and that she was trying to quit. She smiled and moved into a comfortable position.
“I would say zat – pardon me, that – I am well Seymour, thank you,” Katrine smiled, lips pursed just so, eyes dancing merrily. “So that I do not waste our time together, I will tell you that I have been feeling very sensual lately. I just completed a new painting and it will be displayed next week, so I was feeling the need for – a little adventure, n’est ce pas?”
Seymour nodded and made a note. Katrine was the most social of “Kay’s” alters and had the talent. One of paintings sold for over $20 thousand, she supported herself quite well with her remarkable talents. Kitty neither painted nor danced, although she did play the piano a little.
“I dressed up in my black Chanel suit, you know the one zat you told me is sexy, and went to a cocktail lounge I know,” Katrine smiled. Katrine was also the only alter that that drank to any degree. “The singer has a lovely voice and a lovely body, she is amazing in bed, but it wasn’t ‘er I went to bed weeth last night. I met up with a young woman I’d been observing for some weeks, her name is Martine and she is black, tall and elegant.
I wanted very much to make love to Martine and tonight was illegal bahis siteleri to be the night. I flirted with her and let her buy me drinks, making myself available to ‘er. By the end of the night, she was almost crawling all over me, trying to get into my panties. Silly girl – I wasn’t wearing any.
She took me back to her home; it was lovely with a spectacular view of the city. She undressed me like she was unwrapping the most sensual present, I sink – think – that is an apt comparison, yes? I was feeling playful, I told ‘er that I wanted to make love in front of her windows so that anyone looking in could see us. I thought she might object, but she was feeling playful and she dropped the attractive white shift she had been wearing to the ground. She too, had worn nothing underneath and I enjoyed seeing that ebony skin revealed to my eyes.
I have always wanted to make love to a black woman and nothing about Martine disappointed, nothing at all Seymour. Her body was like a sculpture, I hope to paint her someday. I caressed her body and touched her all over; with my hands I felt my way around and touched her breasts, her stomach and her pussy. She shaves her pussy and I had free rein to touch her, to lick her cunt. I remembered again why I prefer women as lovairs – zey – damn it, they – flow so readily and they make the sweetest sounds. She tumbled to the ground and I moved alongside of ‘er so that we could kiss and make sweet, sweet love.
Martine is a massage therapist and I would imagine she is very successful, because her hands were like magic on my body. They soothed all of our cares away and I felt as if I was floating on air. We moved into a soixante-neuf and licked at each other’s heated flesh until our mouths were sore. Then the sexy woman took me into her bedroom and covered me with hot wax – eet was so – so erotique. She pulled it off and unlike having a Brazilian, the feeling was wonderful. I came in great, loud explosions and did not leave her home until dawn.”
Seymour nodded and he had pictured the whole scenario in his head as she told the story. Elizabeth would get another good fucking tonight, he had never told her about “Kay”, he respected doctor-patient confidentiality. He never told his still-pretty, 35 year old wife that when he fucked her like that, he was thinking of the sensual, half-French beauty and screwing her in his mind.
Seymour took careful notes, he saw that Katrine seemed happy and was pleased that she had been working again. She seemed to emerge when “Kay” was low on funds or needed an outlet and for weeks after, she had a light, generous spirit. Katrine left the office, gave him a warm kiss goodbye and an erotic stimuli for his evening with his younger wife.
Somehow, he knew that it would be Katherine that would show up on Friday. Katherine was the “driver”, it was she that ran much of “Kay’s” life, she was the only one aware of the other two. She was in a nicely-tailored suit, her hair pulled back into a nice chignon, still in heels but nothing overtly sexual. Katherine was an attractive, business-like woman. She did all of the errands, the banking, paid the bills and invested the money that “Katrine” made. She had a good head for investments, “Kay” had over a quarter million in the bank and it was growing.
“I know that Katrine she finished another painting, right?” Katherine said to Seymour as she sat down. “I don’t know what people see in that artsy-fartsy junk she does, but it sold for a new high, 25 grand. I went to our bank, paid off some of our credit cards and decided I needed a little fun too. I mean, all work and no play makes Kat a nasty bitch, right?” She chuckled. canlı bahis siteleri Seymour nodded, when Katherine was in a good mood, she was Kat, when she was angry or hurt, it was “Katherine”. Her artistic side was always “Katrine”, only Katherine got to be “Kat”.
“I saw this guy who works at the bank, his name’s Donovan – Donny for short. He’s attractive, about 35 or so, dark hair, nice goatee, beautiful dresser, wonderful manners – he’s asked me out for coffee a number of times, I gave in last time and went. He turned out to be a nice guy, so I told him next time, we could have dinner. Bold as brass, I went over to him and told him he was taking me to dinner tonight. He laughed and said sure and I told him I wanted pub food, fish and chips or a burger, nothing fancy. I can’t stand all that shit Katrine likes, that haute cuisine shit. Christ, I want to be full if I pay $35 for a meal.
Donny took me out around 7 and we were having a blast. He’s funny, kinda goofy, you know? Great voice, I had never noticed before, sexy and commanding. I knew before we ordered dessert that I wanted to fuck him. Why should Kitty and Katrine have all the fun? I invited him back to our place – I wanted to turn loose on this guy, fuck his brains out. Someone about him seemed familiar and I couldn’t place it, but fuck that, I was horny.
We got back to our place and I was all over the guy. In the back of my head, I remembered to be as enthusiastic as Kitty and I used a few of Katrine’s tricks too. I gave this guy a world-class, A-grade, motherfucking blowjob. He came in my mouth and I pulled him into bed. He was a champ at eating pussy too, he made me cum.
I liked that he was gentle and not afraid of my being so aggressive. I was riding him and he was grunting and groaning and we both had a good cum. I made sure of that. I had a cigarette with him – don’t give me that look Seymour, I know Katrine’s trying to quit, but I’m not there yet – and he asked if I wanted to fuck again. I said sure and he wanted to know if I wanted to change it up a little. I said no, I love it on top, so he got me going again and I was just riding his cock when I looked directly into his face and …”
Katherine stopped talking for a moment and Seymour was about ready to tap her shoulder to see if she was all right when her voice changed. It became hard, deep and masculine.
“Hello Dr. Bernstein, we haven’t met. My name is Karl, I look after the girls. You might say that I’m their … protector.” Seymour had no idea there was an undiscovered alter, he stared at “Karl” in shock.
“All right, hello Karl,” Seymour said, regaining his composure. “What was it you felt the need to protect Katherine from.”
“Herself,” Karl told the therapist. “When she saw Donny’s face up close, she realized who he reminded her of and I took over. I tried to use her voice to tell him I – she – wasn’t feeling very well all of a sudden and he left with no fuss. I’m glad he did, there’s no telling what would have happened if he hadn’t.”
“Why Karl, who did Donny remind her – you – of?” Seymour asked, feeling they were on the edge of a tremendous breakthrough.
“He looked a lot like her – our – stepfather, doctor. The man used to beat her within an inch of her life,” Karl told Dr. Bernstein.
“Oh lord,” Seymour said under his breath. “What happened to him Karl, where is he now?”
Karl’s face had an awful, almost sick smile on it. “They didn’t tell you doc? Kitty and Katrine – they killed him doc, they bashed in his skull with a baseball bat. Kat, dear, clever Katherine, she concocted a terrific cover story to explain his sudden disappearance.” Karl’s smile got wider. “Don’t ask them to tell you where the body is Doc, they won’t tell you – because they don’t know. Y’see, I’m the one they asked to bury the bastard and I’m the only one who knows where the fucker is.” Karl told a visibly-shaken Seymour.
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