Dr. Allen's New Patient Ch. 03

The night air was pleasant, in contrast to the hot temperature earlier during the day, and Sally had just arrived at the alley to meet her lover.

Damian was awake; it was as if he was waiting up for her. He was almost done smoking a cigarette when he heard the familiar sound of her footsteps; he quickly eyed her walking towards him. This was the signal for him to look inside the rickety old wooden crate that doubled as a nightstand, from which he produced a black velvet jewelry box; it was long and rectangular in shape.

A few more steps into the walkway and Sally came face to face with her lover. However, instead of being offered his cock as usual, Sally found herself looking at the long black box he held out to her. She wasn't expecting this, so she just stared at the box with a puzzled look, somewhat speechless. Sally had never received a gift from a man before, not so much as a single flower.

"For me?" she asked quizzically, looking up at him.

"For you, baby", Damian confirmed.

Sally slowly took the box from her lover and then proceeded to open it, her eyes brightening instantly. In it was a dainty bracelet adorned with several bright yellow stones. She guessed they were canary diamonds, because a girl from her office was showing off a ring one day that had similar looking gems. The co-worker had pointed out they were canary diamonds, and bragged that the ring had cost her boyfriend a pretty penny.

Sally reached into the velvet box and carefully picked up the delicate bracelet with her thumb and index finger. She admired the exceptionally intricate design on the exquisite piece of jewelry.

"I chose bright yellow because my life was once dark, but you came and brightened it up" Damian said sincerely, meeting her eyes with his.

Sally eyes were already welling up with tears. She was silent for a brief minute, and then suddenly found herself bawling like crazy. With all the fiber in her tiny being, she hugged Damian tight and rained kisses all over his face. He was eating it all up with a big grin.

When she finally regained her composure, Sally managed a simple, "Thank you, honey". She then handed the bracelet to her generous lover and held out her left wrist. Damian obligingly wrapped the band around Sally's delicate wrist and then hooked the clasp.

"There, a pretty bracelet for a pretty girl", Damian declared charmingly.

Sally's face was now soaking wet with tears of joy. Consequently, Damian's face was wet as well, not just from Sally's tears, but also from her kisses.

That night, for the first time since they had initially met, Damian made love to Sally. There were no vulgar words exchanged, and no slaps on Sally's bottom. For the first time in her life, Sally felt treasured.

**********

Where Damian had gotten the money to buy such an expensive piece of jewelry, Sally had no idea, but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. All she could tell herself was, "Here's a man who has no job, no home, and no money, and still he managed to give me this beautiful present."

The next morning, Sally wore her pretty new bracelet to work. As usual, she was dressed in a frumpy manner and sported a modest ponytail, but she had an especially bright glow on her face. Even earlier in the morning, when she first walked in to work and saw the new stack of papers on her desk, Sally didn't so much as blink an eye. She was on Cloud Nine.

Of course, Abby noticed Sally's new bracelet, and instantly guessed it was from her "guy". Like Sally, Abby wondered where Damian had gathered the resources to procure such a precious piece of jewelry. But unlike Sally, Abby went further to speculate that Damian had either stolen the money to buy it, or had stolen the bracelet itself. Abby's thoughts reverted back to the police, and like before, she quickly decided against it, because Sally was keeping her promise to continue with her therapy.

**********

In the same area of town, sitting in the comfortable armchair, Sally quietly observed the Hockney painting hanging on the wall of her therapist's office. Dr. Allen had excused himself momentarily from Mildred, his office receptionist, to use the restroom down the hall, so the kindly old lady instructed Sally to wait in the therapist's office before he arrived to start their weekly session.

The bright blue shades the artist, David Hockney, used to convey his rendition of a clear sky and sparkling water did have a somewhat calming effect on Sally. This afternoon, she wasn't as annoyed as she usually was at the beginning of a therapy session. Perhaps it had to do with the pretty little trinket adorning her wrist.

Lately, Dr. Allen felt he had to mentally prepare for the sessions with his young new patient. For the last few weeks, he had been actively fantasizing about banging the young woman who sat demurely in his office every week. After their sessions finished, for instance, with a few minutes before his next appointment, Dr. Allen would masturbate in his leather chair as he pictured Sally recounting her sexual escapades just minutes earlier. For some reason, a filthy, homeless, middle-aged drunk fucking a young sweet thing like Sally made Dr. Allen even harder than even the most hard-core porn flick. "Damian was one lucky bastard", thought the psychiatrist, enviously.

Within minutes, Dr. Allen walked out of the bathroom and opened the door to his office reception area, where Mildred was waiting to hand him some messages handwritten on pink slips of paper.

"And your usual appointment is a little early, waiting for you inside, Doctor", Mildred added.

Now sitting comfortably behind his wide mahogany desk, dispensing the usual pleasantries, the therapist and his female patient got down to business. Dr. Allen couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw Sally's eyes sparkle with delight for a few seconds here and there, perhaps to match the shiny new band she was sporting on her wrist. Dr. Allen noticed that the pretty bracelet Sally wore hardly matched the drab shades of her attire. Not veering from her usual style, she wore a gray button-down sweater over a black linen blouse, a dark gray skirt that extended beneath her knees, thin black tights, and sensible black penny loafers. Indeed, the only piece of jewelry she wore was the elegant bracelet, which was quite a contrast to her otherwise dull outfit.

"Is it me, or do you look especially happy today, Sally?" Dr. Allen felt the need to point out.

Sally immediately let out a huge smile. She couldn't help but beam from ear to ear, not trying in the least to hide her bliss.

"Well, my guy gave me a present", she indicated, holding up her wrist to display the source of her happiness.

"Wow, that's some present", Dr. Allen exclaimed. "Pretty nice considering your guy's not usually cash-heavy", he added.

Sally just shrugged her shoulders. Almost reading Dr. Allen's mind, she retorted, "I really don't care how he got it. The most important thing is that he loved me enough to get it; that's what counts."

"Really? You don't care if he got it illegally?" Dr. Allen immediately regretted the words that jumped out of his mouth of their own accord. He suddenly remembered that as a therapist, he wasn't there to judge, but to listen to the patient and aide in self-reflection.

Sally, not in the least bit offended by Dr. Allen's comment, somehow knew her therapist would have such a reaction, so she replied very calmly.

"Doctor, I've gone out with a handful of guys in the past, and it seemed every one of them offered me every excuse in the book for why they couldn't do certain things. They'd go on and on about why they couldn't pick me up for our date and how I had to arrange for my own transportation, or why they could only take me out for coffee instead of dinner, or why they couldn't take me to go see a movie. One guy even asked me to pay for my own dessert at McDonald's after he paid for my meal."

Dr. Allen was astonished. He wanted to kick those pathetic losers Sally had the misfortune of going out with. He thought that a girl should certainly be treated better than that, even if it was the year 2018 and the feminist movement was here to stay. He didn't blame Sally one bit for feeling disappointed from the trifling men she had the unfortunate opportunity to have dated.

Sally added, "Doctor, my guy doesn't ever hand me excuses. He just does what he needs to do to take care of business; to me, actions speak louder than words."

It was now halfway through their hour-long session, and Dr. Allen decided to move onto a different subject.

**********

Only minutes later, through a slight change of mood, Sally explained to her therapist, "Well I didn't know if he would let me... I mean, I didn't know if he would want me to...." The young girl was now staring down at her shoes.

Remembering the handsome, tall graduate student Sally mentioned last week, Dr. Allen had brought up the subject of Vincent again. In the last few days, Dr. Allen had been thinking Sally would be much better off with someone closer to her own age, and location, for that matter. Vincent would certainly be safer and more convenient for Sally to "visit" than Damian. "Here is a young, educated man that you're obviously attracted to, and you yourself said he was nice. I mean, if you were a third party observing the situation, wouldn't it make more sense for you to be with Vincent, than with someone twice your age who lives an hour away in a dirty alley?"

Sally smiled understandingly and closed her eyes for a few seconds before responding, "Well, I did at one point think of Vincent in that way; I actually did. For months, I'd be in my room, fantasizing about knocking on his door and going in to show him how I felt. I got pretty close to doing it, too. But you know what happened next with him and Mary. That's just the way it is. Things turn out the way they do for a good reason, Doctor. If God had wanted me to be with Vincent, it would've happened. But obviously, Vincent wasn't meant to be with me."

"So then, is he with Mary?" Dr. Allen was curious to know.

"No. She's got dozens of boys after her. She's always going out on tons of dates. Every once in a while, I'd see a guy down in the living room who's come to pick her up for a nice fancy date. But lately, it's been the same guy come to call on her, and I haven't seen any of the others. I guess this one's her boyfriend now."

"So, Vincent's not with anybody?" Dr. Allen asked.

"I don't know, and I don't care", Sally said with a smile, having long ago moved on. "Besides, I've learned that if a boy doesn't like me, then that's it, game over. The boy's not attracted to me, and there's not a thing in the world I could do or say to turn him on. I'm not clever that way like other girls are."

However, now, Dr. Allen knew what Sally was smiling about: that pretty bracelet. But what about those damned welts on her back? After all, they were the actual reason Sally was sitting in his office in the first place. Although fascinated by and aroused to hear about the white hot sex she and Damian were having, Dr. Allen did not forget his obligation and duty to Abby: he needed to find out who was inflicting pain, or pleasure for that matter, on this nice young girl sitting before him, and he needed to find out if Sally was in any imminent danger. At that second, an idea popped into Dr. Allen's head. It wasn't exactly the most ethical idea that had occurred to him, but it might very well serve to answer the burning question about the welts. Besides, after weeks of getting nowhere through traditional therapy, Dr. Allen resolved to take matters into his own hands and get to the bottom of things.

**********

"Abby? Dr. Allen, the therapist treating your friend, Sally. Yes, yes, everything's fine. No, no, I haven't found out about that just yet, no, not yet. However, I'm quite sure I can find out with a little help from you, actually."

"Well, doctor, you know I'll do anything I can to help Sally. She's like a daughter to me, and I'd hate to see anything happen to her, now that she's so happy with her new guy."

"Yes, well, that's exactly what I've called to ask you about. Would you please confirm for me the address of the office where you and Sally work? Also, do you happen to have her home address?" Dr. Allen inquired.

"Of course.....yes....no problem, Dr. Allen....yes, of course...yes, I'm glad to help....okay, bye."

Click.

Dr. Allen looked in Sally's patient file for her home and work addresses, both of which Abby had just verified. With a few strokes on his phone's nifty maps app, he was able to map out in detail the trajectory of her commute between home and work. The first bus a few blocks from Sally's boarding house went all the way downtown, and a second bus took her to Broadway Ave. The bus would then let her off a few blocks from her office building. Since Dr. Allen's office was not too far from the actual area, he was well familiar with Broadway and its numerous adjacent alleyways. Yes, he knew Broadway was one of the main streets in Downtown's Business District, and that it ran all the way to the Fashion/Jewelry District. Hmmmm. Another thought flashed before him: he wondered if any thefts had occurred recently in any of the jewelry stores on Broadway Ave., but never mind that for now. His first priority was to see if he couldn't locate the source of the scars on his young patient's back.

**********

After he finished with his last patient for the evening, Dr. Allen straightened up the files on his desk, pushed his leather chair in under the wide mahogany desk, and walked out of his office. As he was waiting for the elevator, he thought hopefully, perhaps he would finally find out about Damian, Sally's new guy. "Was Damian indeed the one who caused those scratches on Sally's back?" he asked himself. He then looked up to see the elevator light flashing, waited for the doors to open, and quickly stepped in.

Since his office was located on the 9th floor, Dr. Allen waited patiently while it stopped at various intervals to let people on, most done with their work for the day. As inconspicuously as he could, he looked the females up and down, and wondered if any of the quiet-looking ones in frumpy clothes had secret lovers like his patient, Sally, did. Since he started his psychiatric practice several years ago, Dr. Allen had learned the truth to the old adage, "Still waters run deep". He also realized, "Don't judge a book by its cover." The elevator finally reached the lobby of the huge business building and Dr. Allen quickly stepped out along with the rest of the suits who were anxious to get home.

He walked over to his car, which was parked in a designated space in the parking structure across from his office building. Glancing at his watch, he noticed the hour, which was around the time the sun was setting, and figured it would be reasonably dark by the time he was trolling down Broadway Avenue. He might end up struggling to look for alleyways where Sally's "guy" could be found. Oh well, Dr. Allen reasoned, if it was too difficult to find Damian at this hour, he could always go back on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, when it was still light out.

Dr. Allen started his car and followed the line of vehicles that were all in a hurry to leave the parking structure. As he exited the lot, he made a mental note not to take the usual route to get home, but to stay on the surface streets to get to Broadway Ave. Because of rush-hour traffic and several one-way streets in the area, what should have taken only five minutes took a good twenty instead. Finally, however, he arrived at the wide avenue which stretched out to at least five lanes. He was careful to stay in the middle lanes, in order to avoid having to turn into one of the small side streets. His objective for the evening was to observe the various alleys jutting out from Broadway, and see if any of them "housed" transients of the city.

Soon, however, Dr. Allen realized he couldn't find what he was looking for by sitting in his car. He would have to park somewhere, get out, and walk into most if not all of the different alleyways to see if he couldn't find Damian.

By now, it was after hours in Downtown's Business District, and Dr. Allen easily found parking at a metered space on Broadway itself. Since it was nearing 7:30 pm, when the meters were already turned off for the day, Dr. Allen figured he would be good to go on his search after he parked his car. However, as he was parallel parking his black Mercedes, Dr. Allen observed several bums nearby roaming the street. Not only fearing for the safety of his car, Dr. Allen also found himself fearing for his personal well being. No wonder most people working in Downtown rushed to get the hell out after they were done for the day.

In addition to feeling his safety might be compromised somewhat, Dr. Allen also wondered if one of those homeless men he just observed was Damian. From Sally's descriptions, he knew Damian was tall and thin, dressed in rags, and had striking green eyes. If Dr. Allen happened to be standing next to a man fitting that description, and if the man smelled of whiskey, cigarettes, and urine, then he figured he would be in luck that evening.

"Jesus, it's looking pretty shady here this time of night" Dr. Allen admitted to himself, while walking cautiously down Broadway Ave. How Sally could walk these cold streets by herself in the middle of the night, and herself being a female of slight build, was beyond Dr. Allen's human comprehension. At that moment, however, another old saying came to mind, as he made note of Sally's steel determination to be with the man of her dreams; she was going to be with Damian "come hell or high water".

As he approached the first alleyway walking down the east side of Broadway, a block or two away from where Sally's downtown bus stopped, Dr. Allen feared more and more for his bodily safety, and it wasn't even the middle of the night yet. "Damn! With a nice, good looking boy her own age just a few feet away, within the confines of the warm boarding house they shared, Sally still felt the need to venture out into the harsh night to a part of town where bums littered the streets; all this to be with a broken-down alcoholic twice her age. What the hell! Was he missing something?" Dr. Allen thought to himself.