Diagnosing a Fetish Ch. 04

"Don't worry about that. Are you sure you're OK? You've been a little more... off recently. I heard some shouting, too. That's why I came over," Kat frowned.

"I don't know; I guess stuff has gotten harder recently."

"With Dave?"

"No... I," I didn't know what to say, "I started seeing a specialist, and then stuff kind of got out of hand."

"Oh, was that the woman at your door? I saw her leaving when I came out of my apartment," Kat explained, "I think she left this on the ground for you," she handed me an envelope with my name written on the front.

Frowning, I turned it over in my hand. The back was left open, and I could see a folded-up piece of paper inside. My heart was beating faster in my chest as I considered opening it. It was probably just more lies from Dr. Morse, another attempt to convince me to come back and join her disgusting sex ring. The fear and anger it elicited almost made me forget about Kat's presence until she spoke again.

"Did you... want to talk about it?"

I winced at the thought. For one, I didn't want to talk about it with anyone, not really. And two, it would likely result in her coming into my apartment, which was a total disaster. I couldn't let someone know I was living like this, especially not Kat. However, I knew I needed this. I desperately needed a person I could trust in my life so I could talk through everything that had been happening to me recently. The question was, did I trust Kat?

"If you don't want to, that's fine," she said, likely noticing my unease.

"No... It's just... my apartment is destroyed and, I don't know."

"Don't worry about that; I can handle a dirty apartment."

"OK," I opened the door further to allow her inside. I couldn't see her face, but she said nothing as she walked in front of me. I moved the pile of pillows and blankets from my nights sleeping on the couch to a separate chair, allowing Kat and I to sit. An awkward silence followed as both of us tried to think of something to say, Kat, being the first to do so.

"So, if it isn't Dave, then what has been wrong recently? You said something about a specialist."

"I... It's complicated."

"I have time," Kat rested her hand on my thigh in an act of reassurance.

"It's not time I worried about," I let out a long breath, "Since Dave and I divorced, I've been questioning a lot about my life and...." God, there was no good way to say it. The last time I told someone this, they stabbed me in the back. Sure, I've known Kat longer than I did Dr. Morse, but it didn't make it any easier. "I guess, without him around... This is going to be gross, but I've started to develop these... urges. But, when I indulge the urges, I always feel bad afterward. That leads me down a spiral of-of self-hatred and just... anger. Then I drink and, I guess you've seen the rest."

"What do you mean by urges?"

"God, you're going to think I'm so fucked up," I muttered under my breath, "I don't know why, but... a few months after Dave and I split up, I saw this video online...." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to gather my thoughts, "It was a woman going to the bathroom. It's gross, but it... I don't know, awoke something in me. So after that, I started experimenting with stuff. Um, you know, bathroom play, I guess people call it. In the moment, it feels amazing, but, as I said, I feel disgusting afterward."

"I think you're being too hard on yourself; that doesn't sound bad," Kat squeezed my leg, "You're not doing anything illegal. You just need to find a way to enjoy it without having the negative thoughts afterward."

"You don't understand; I can't," my voice broke as my eyes began to water, "You think I didn't try? I am... gross. I deserve to feel the way I do because I am a fuckup. This isn't healthy! You and Dr. Morse can say what you want, but this isn't healthy." I couldn't hold it back anymore and broke down, hunching over as tears streamed down my face. I was sick of the lies, of people saying what they thought I wanted to hear so I would feel better.

"Oh, Mallory," Kat wrapped her arms around my body, holding me in a close embrace.

"I don't know what to do anymore," I sniffled, "My life is falling apart around me. My apartment is full of garbage, I haven't done laundry in a month, I've drank so much booze I can't remember what happened a week ago! Plus, I'm almost out of money, and now I've got an insane lady chasing after me because she wants me to join her sex ring."

"What?"

I wiped my runny nose with the back of my hand. "Dr. Morse. I was seeing her to help with all of this, but I found out a few days ago that she had been lying to me. Apparently, she's done this before, helping people with the same problems as me to build trust and then using them as her personal sex slaves." It was perhaps not entirely correct, but in my current state, details seemed unimportant. Besides, I was too angry with her to care.

"Have you tried going to the police? That sounds illegal."

"There's nothing I could say," I mumbled into Kat's shoulder, "She hasn't done anything against the law, I don't think, anyway. Plus, I don't have any proof."

"Well, I can't help you with that necessarily, but I can help with the other things, right? Won't it feel better to have a clean apartment and clothes?"

"Kat, please don't. I can't... I feel like a child; everyone is constantly doing stuff for me. Like yesterday, when I came to your apartment drunk and just caused problems. Why did you help me? This was all the result of my decisions; it shouldn't be your responsibility to help."

"It's not my responsibility. I am helping you because we are friends and I want you to feel better, OK? You don't need to keep punishing yourself. I don't know what Dave made you think, but it is OK to ask for help when you need it."

"I don't..."

"Here, let's start with this," Kat took the envelope from Dr. Morse out of my hand. I must have been clutching it since she gave it to me, but I hadn't even realized it.

"Don't throw that out. Please. I can't read it right now, but I might in the future. It may... it may be important." Even after everything she had done, I still had a shred of faith in Dr. Morse. Maybe she was telling the truth earlier; perhaps it was a misunderstanding. Regardless, I couldn't face her or the letter right now. I was barely functioning and in no mental state to face more challenges.

"OK," Kat set it on the coffee table in front of me, "We'll just put it here for now." Turning to the armchair, she picked up a blanket and folded it into a neat rectangle. Laying it over the back of the couch, Kat grabbed the two throw pillows and set them on either end of the couch. The room was still a disaster, but it helped a little. "See? Much better already. Now," she held my hands, helping me to my feet, "Do you want to go take a shower while I keep cleaning up?"

"No, I... I want to help."

"Sounds good," she brought me in for one more hug, rubbing my back as she did so.

"Thanks for helping me," I whispered, "I'll try to be more open to it in the future, but it's hard."

"I know," she broke the hug, taking a second to look me up and down, "It's going to get better, OK? I know it can be hard to see that sometimes, but it just takes time. In a few months, this will all feel like a bad dream."

"But what do I do? I feel... lost."

"Tell you what, how about right now you just focus on getting us a couple of garbage bags?"

Kat helping me left a good feeling in my chest for the first time in a long time. But after what I had experienced the last couple of weeks, it was hard to trust it. I tried my best, but I seemed to have a mental blockage that prevented me from feeling good. I didn't tell her this, though, and instead went to the kitchen to get the garbage bags as she requested.

This wasn't going to last. Something was going to happen, and I was going to be back where I was an hour ago. After all, I felt like I was approving on Tuesday when I went to RAE. I had cut out drinking, I was going out to socialize again; I was almost back to the status quo. Then everything got worse. I didn't know what the catalyst would be this time, but I knew everything was going to get worse. There was a voice in the back of my head, constantly repeating that I shouldn't be happy. I knew the voice was right.

"Mallory? Hey, there you are," Kat smiled as she came around the corner, "I thought you got lost. Did you find the garbage bags?"

"Oh, um, right," I opened the cupboard under the sink and pulled out two of the black bags, handing one to Kat.

"Thanks. Just remember; take everything one step at a time. If you keep working at it and don't overthink things, you'll be feeling better in no time."

"Yeah... I guess."