Becoming Amy! Ch. 06

I barely remember the drive home. I do remember looking at myself in the mirror. Despite my makeup, my face was almost white, and my pupils were dilated. I think I was close to being in shock. There was a hurricane between my ears, my brain was jumping from jumbled thought to jumbled thought.

I walked into the house in a trance. Tom was sitting on the couch, reading. He took one look at me and knew I was out of it. "Amy? Baby? What's wrong? What happened?"

I burst into tears and climbed on top of him on the couch, my legs straddling his. I laid my head on his chest and sobbed uncontrollably. Tom just held me, cuddling me and gently stroking the top of my head and my back with his fingertips. "I'm here, baby. Tom is here for you. I won't let you go. I'll hold you as long as you need me to hold you." He was kissing the top of my head lovingly. His words and the way he was comforting me only made me cry that much harder.

"T-To-Tom, I don't deserve you. I'm a complete shit; you should throw me out of your house." And I broke down in a torrent of tears again.

Tom didn't say anything. He just held me to him, consoling me with the gentleness of his touch. "Shhhhh, don't you ever say that. I'm here for you, I'm here for my Amy. Whatever it is, we can work it out together. It's OK, it's going to be OK."

I don't know how long he held me like that. Being in his arms, hearing the gentle tone and genuine caring in his voice made me start to feel a little bit better. I looked up into his beautiful eyes and burst into tears again. How could I have done this to the man who helped Amy discover her true self? Then again, maybe Amy the Slut was who I was.

Tom hugged me to him. He held me tenderly, lovingly, longingly. "Amy, we will work this out together. But baby, I can't help you unless you let me help you. You have to trust me; you have to be 100% honest with me." He put his finger under my chin and lifted my eyes to his, not letting me look away. I nodded.

I told Tom everything, exactly the way it happened from the beginning. I didn't try to make myself seem innocent. I admitted to enjoying my 'seduction' of Dr. Schmidt and how it made me feel so wanted by my therapist to be willing to break the boundaries of the doctor/patient relationship because of his desire for me.

I told Tom how clinical Oscar was in the way he made 'love' to me. How he knew exactly where to find my P-spot, maintain contact with it, and fuck me until I was an unintelligible puddle of cum beneath him. How coldly he came inside me and then how even more coldly he threatened to blackmail me by hurting Tom who had been nothing but kind, caring, and considerate of Amy.

I burst into tears again. "I'm sorry, so sorry, oh Tom, oh Tom. I'm such a shit, throw me out, I'll understand completely. I don't deserve a man like you. I'm a tramp, I deserve everything that Dr. Schmidt did to me."

Tom didn't say anything. He picked me up in his arms and carried me to his bedroom. He set me down in the doorway to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and said, "Everything is going to be all right. I want you to take a shower for as long and as hot as you can stand it. Cleanse yourself, not just outside but inside. I'm not judging you; I don't want you to judge yourself. I'll get you some of Colette's comfort PJ's and one of her terry cloth robes. Put those on after you've finished your shower. Then come back and join me on the couch."

I did as Tom instructed. I stood with my hands against the wall of the shower and let the water sluice over me. I washed myself again and again; I douched over and over. I didn't want any of Oscar left inside me. I think I had rubbed my skin raw by the time I turned the water off. Tom had placed the most comfortable white silk pajamas and a voluminous white terry cloth robe on the bed. I put them on and began to feel better almost immediately. He even had placed white fuzzy slippers on the floor next to them.

I brushed my hair repeatedly until it was lustrous and shiny. I put just the barest hint of mascara and eyeliner on and finished that off by touching up my lips with a sheer, see-through lip gloss. I was more than a little stunned. With practically no make up on at all, Amy was staring back at me from the mirror. I was hard pressed to find any remnant of Amphai at all. Taking a deep breath, I walked back into the living room to face the music.

Tom held out his hands to me. "Sit." He pointed to a spot on the couch, definitely not right next to him. I did as he asked, what else could I do. I owed him so much more than that. I was sitting in a spot where I had no choice but to look into his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow. "I've already lost my train of thought. Even dressed like this, you're beautiful. Is Amphai anywhere inside there anymore or has Amy taken over completely?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn't sure I knew the answer to that question anymore.

Tom shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "First, let me be clear. We never, ever discussed being exclusive so it would be very disingenuous of me to pretend to be hurt because you were with another man. Honestly, I expected at some point you would take Charlie Watkins into your bed. It just seemed to be the way things were going."

I was looking down; he put his finger under my chin and lifted it so I would have to look at him. "Second, I am not the least bit offended by your 'seduction' of Dr. Schmidt. Countless numbers of patients have had a 'thing' for their therapists; you're not the first and you won't be the last. Despite him turning out to be a complete asshole, he was a great deal of help to you for a long time."

"Third, I'm REALLY pissed at Dr. Oscar Schmidt. To use my name to try and blackmail you, to use my name to hurt you, PISSES ME OFF. We're not going to sit back and take it. Here's my plan."

Three days later I got another text from Dr. Schmidt. It was abrupt and to the point. "I expect to see Amy in my office at 3:00 pm this afternoon. My calendar is cleared, my receptionist will be gone. I expect to see Amy dressed like the wanton slut she is."

That played right into part of Tom's plan. I had slutty clothes laid out, ready and waiting to hear from Dr. Schmidt. At 2:59 pm, I opened the door to Dr. Schmidt's office. I was wearing a black leather micro-mini skirt with crotchless sheer-to-the-waist black pantyhose. I had on a black satin blouse and black leather open-toe stiletto heels. Ruby red lipstick and ruby red polish on my fingers and toes completed my outfit.

"I'm here, Dr. Schmidt." I said as I walked timidly into his office.

"Did you lock the outer door, bitch?" he asked without looking up from his desk.

"Y-ye-yes, Oscar." I answered timidly.

"Good. Now step out here where I can get a good look at you."

I walked into the middle of his office and twirled, modeling for him.

"Oscar, why are you doing this to me? Why are you threatening to reveal our sexual relationship to my boyfriend? That's blackmail. That's not in the least bit professional."

"Shut the fuck up, bitch. For that, come over here and lean over my desk. I'm going to fuck you up the ass like the whore you're dressed as."

I closed my eyes and let Oscar penetrate me. He was buried to the hilt inside me. That was part of the plan. There could be no doubt.

With Oscar's hands on my hips as he began to thrust in and out of me, Tom stepped into the office, holding his phone. "My, my, my, what do we have here? The video of a licensed psychotherapist fucking one of his patients and admitting to blackmailing her. I'm sure the Psychiatric Board of Ethics will love to see this."

Oscar's dick deflated immediately. One second, he was inside me, the next he was not. "I'm Tom by the way. You know, the guy you were threatening to blackmail Amy with. I don't appreciate spineless fucks like you using my name to get what you want."

Oscar's eyes darted around the room, as if there was somewhere for him to escape to. "Pull your pants up, asshole. Neither one of us wants to see that worthless little needle-dick of yours." Oscar did exactly as Tom instructed. "Now sit down on your couch over there; the one you used to fuck Amy and any of the other patients of yours that you've fucked."

I whirled to stare at Tom. "Other patients?"

"Look at his eyes, caught like a rat in a trap. You're not the first, baby, and you wouldn't have been the last." Tom turned back to Oscar.

"I should beat the shit out of you, but you'd eventually heal. I should call the police, but the wheels of justice move too slowly sometimes. Here's what's going to happen. I work for one of the big security companies. It's my job to set up monitoring equipment. I'm going to go over this office with a fine-tooth comb. I'm going to find all your cameras and recorders. I'm going to take them." Oscar started to argue but saw the look on Tom's face and thought better of it.

"You're moving out of this state, immediately. You're never going to practice psychiatry again. Remember, I'm in security. If you try to start a practice somewhere else, I'll find out about it. If you do, all the things that you've recorded will come to light along with the video I already have on my phone."

"B-but what will I do? How will I make a living?"

"Fry hamburgers, stock shelves, sweep floors, I don't know, and I don't give a fuck. The one thing you will never be again is a psychiatrist; especially a psychiatrist who uses his position to take advantage of vulnerable patients. Now get the fuck out of here before I change my mind, kick your ass AND call the police. Go. Now."

Oscar saw the look in Tom's eyes and slunk out of his office. He turned to me. "Take my car and go home baby. It's going to take me a little while to find everything. I'll Uber home when I've finished here."

I started to protest but saw there would be no discussion. Tom's mind was set, and it actually did make a lot of sense. I would be of no help at all and would probably just be underfoot. Tom could give his full attention to what he was going to do. I gave him a hug and a kiss, said thank you and left.

I got home and took a shower. A long, hot shower. My skin had started to wrinkle I had been in the shower so long. I turned the water off and vigorously toweled myself dry.