The Doctor's Casebook Pt. 06 Ch. 02

Someone touched me on the arm, and I turned. "Are you okay?" a woman asked.

I blinked up at her. Everybody is taller than I am. "What does 'open bar' mean?"

She smiled back. "It means the drinks are free. It also means that there's a long line for the bartender, so you'd better get going." I nodded dumbly and started backing away. "Hey!" she said, halting me. She dug in her tiny purse for a second and held out a five-dollar bill. "Tip the bartender."

I reached out and took it. "Thank you."

It seemed to take forever. The line in front of the table with the drinks was insufferably slow-moving, and it was almost twenty minutes before I got back with the drinks. I was SO afraid that she wouldn't wait for me, and for a few moments after reentering the room, it looked like that fear had been realized. But there was a knot of women in one corner; and, of course, she was in the middle of it. She broke free when she saw me, though, and she excused herself and strode to me, taking the drink gratefully and downing a gulp.

"I was afraid you'd escaped," she said, smiling slyly.

She was playing with me. Did she want me to resist? "I couldn't," I said, grinning. "You harpooned me."

She studied me blankly for a moment; then she threw back her head and laughed. "That has got to be THE most melodramatic analogy I've ever heard!" She laughed again, then slid her arm through mine. "I made you blush. I'm sorry. Let's go sit down over there."

We sat. I couldn't seem to think of anything to do, or anything to say. I sipped my drink, which tasted absolutely wonderful.

"You blush a lot," she commented.

I knew that if I looked up into her eyes, I would be lost in them. It was inevitable, though. I'd have to do it sooner or later. I gave the drink another sip to steady myself, took a big breath, and did it. It was just as devastating as I imagined it would be. I felt like my mind was an open book.

"But you LIKE to blush!" she said, almost in awe. "You are shy, but you WANT to be shy! You are small, and you like it when you FEEL small! How odd. How ... wonderful."

I blinked. "What?"

"You are honest with yourself, Simone. You don't seek to be something that you're not. You are a wonderfully special person. But ... it's going to be a real challenge being your friend."

"Friend?" I actually inhaled the word as a sort of awed gasp.

She laughed again. I was beginning to be addicted to that laugh. She stared into my eyes once more, and I felt happy. But then a tear slid from her left eye, and my heart suddenly restricted. "You ... you don't have any," she said, shocked and disheartened. "You don't have any friends. How is that even possible?"

"Stop that!" I barked at her.

She recoiled, and after a brief second, I glanced around, self-conscious about my outburst. "Stop what?" she asked. As if she didn't know!

"Stop telling me more about me than I know myself!" I ordered. Then, it was as if a dam had burst in my head. "And ... who ARE you? And ... what did you do to those two people on the couch. And ... why? And ... what are you doing to ME?" I paused a beat. "No ... I KNOW what you're doing to me! But ... I don't know why you WANT to! Or ... why you chose me to do it to instead of somebody else! And ..."

I was cut short by that laugh of hers, and the ridiculousness of my flare-up made me join her, my scowl morphing into a begrudged chuckle. She reached out and put her hand on mine. I guess I should have pulled away from her, but she knew ... she KNEW that I relished the contact.

"I am Daphne."

I was smiling. "I'm supposed to make some snide joke about Scooby Doo."

"Oh, God, I hope not." Her smile became one of patience. "And you know what I was doing to those people on the couch."

"You were hypnotizing them. Why?"

"Because they both wanted it."

"The man didn't." I hesitated. "At least, he said he didn't."

"Did he? Did he really? If he REALLY had not wanted what I had to give, then he would have effectively resisted me. Other men have ... the guilty men."

"Guilty?"

"The unfaithful ones. Knowing that I could uncover their affairs, they have refused."

"Unfaithful," I mumbled.

And again, she looked into my very center. "Oh," she said, appearing to lose that spark of happiness that I had begun to yearn for. "Oh ... I see. You are not here alone."

"Um ... no."

"You have ... a boyfriend."

"Uh ... yes."

"But you have no friends. A boyfriend who is not a friend. That is ... accurate, isn't it?"

I opened my mouth to answer her, but my lips formed no words. I tried again, but I found it impossible for a lie to pass from me to her. In my miserable silence, I watched as her hand came up and her finger slowly, delicately wiped a tear from my cheek.

"Where is he now?" she asked.

I give a minimalist's shrug. "Somewhere around here."

"With another woman."

"Yes. It's her perfume on him when he comes home. And ... sometimes, I can smell her ... um ... scent ... when we're in bed."

"The odor of her sex, you mean." She nodded in understanding before I could. "Have you confronted him with it?"

I blushed. "Oh, God, no! I never confront anybody about anything!" I heaved my shoulders upward again in yet another shrug. "And, anyway ... it's not really a bad thing." She narrowed her eyes. I, of course, couldn't look away; and I didn't even try to resist telling her what she was now demanding to know. "When he's been with Miriam, he doesn't want to ... um ... do it with ME."

I couldn't read her expression. "You don't like sex."

"I like pleasing him. When he needs it, I mean. When he demands ... uh ... wants it. I like being needed. And ... there was this one time ..." I stalled, looking beseechingly at her. "Please. I don't have to tell you about THAT, do I?"

She smiled almost sadly and squeezed my hand. "Yes, you do. But, not right now. Finish your drink, Simone. We have things we need to do."

I let go of her hand and faced forward, toward the middle of the room, as I took a gulp of the sweet drink; and for the first time, I noticed that the slender blonde woman who had been so frantic to become her hypnotic subject was waiting to speak to her. My new friend never skipped a beat. She rose and took both of the woman's hands in her own. "Hello, Tina."

"You ... you wanted to speak with me before I left," the mousy lady said expectantly. "I want to tell you ... um ... thank you ..."

"Here's my card," Daphne said, handing one to her. I have no idea where it came from. There must have been a pocket in her skirt. "My address is just a post office box. It's printed there. If I've truly made a difference in your life, and if you think that the changes I've made are beneficial to you, then every now and then, perhaps you could send me a little something."

The woman gasped and tired to bring up her arm, with the obvious intention of reaching for her purse. "I have some money now! I'll give you anything! Anything!"

But Daphne held firmly to her hands, preventing her. "No, Tina. Look into my eyes now, please. Yes, just like that. Relax, for me please. Very good. Now, listen carefully, and don't make any further comment. IF your love life improves, like I'm sure it will; and IF you credit these wonderful changes to the intervention I've made on your behalf; and IF you can spare the money ... then I want you to discuss it with ... um ... Samuel, was it? Yes. You will discuss it with Samuel. And IF he agrees with you, and you both want to, then you can write me a check for exactly one hundred dollars, and send it to me at that address. You can do that as many times as you'd like. Not too often. Every few months, if you really want to. If you both agree. If it's really, really what you want to do. Do you understand, Tina?"

The woman was crying softly. "It's not enough," she said softly. "We can easily afford more. But ... I will do what you ask. Often, I promise! I can never thank you enough for this!" She leaned forward and whispered, but I could still hear her. "We're going to go home now, and we're going to fuck like bunnies all night! Just like we used to before the kids. A few minutes ago, out on the dance floor, he told me some of the things he's going to do to me ... and it was all I could do just to hold onto him and keep dancing! Oh, God. If I keep talking like this, I think I'm going to cum just thinking about it!"

Daphne pushed her gently away. "I hope you have a wonderful evening, Tina. A wonderful life."

"I'll ... do what you asked. Real soon. And often. I know he'll agree to it." She held up the small card as if it was a religious relic. Then she smiled gently. "I know how to MAKE him agree." She backed away from us. "Thank you." Then she turned and almost ran toward the other room.

As I took all of this in, I was still seated; but now, she extended a hand to me, and I quite naturally took it and rose. She didn't let go, and, hand in hand, we wandered toward the main ballroom.

"So," Daphne said. "Now you know."

"You ask that of all of them?" I queried. It was difficult to carry on a conversation. I didn't want to be overheard, but the volume was increasing exponentially as the crowd surrounded us.

"Not all, but most of them, yes. And, there are others. Did you notice that group of women I was with when you came back with my drink? They all wanted to explore my ... services. I was passing out cards. Many of them will write me letters. I don't do this online or through email. But, if they contact me through the mail, I might see them privately." We were in the center of the main room now. She spun me around in a slow circle. "Now. Where's that boyfriend of yours?"

I was suddenly startled. "Why?" But, without waiting for an answer, I pointed. "There. They're over there."

She smiled. Can sharks smile? "Both of them? How marvelous!" She seemed to glide toward them. I saw a black-tipped shark in an aquarium once. Gliding. I was pulled along by her current.

We seemed to burst into their little space. "Hello, I'm Daphne. I'm Simone's friend. I'm so very pleased to meet you." Stunned, neither of them seemed to be able to do or say anything. "You must be Miriam," Daphne said, taking the girl's hand.

"I ... was ... uh ... just about to leave. Please excuse me."

Daphne took a step toward her, almost into her. Their eyes were locked. "You don't want to leave, Miriam. Believe me."

"Uh ... I don't?"

"No. I have a gift for you."

"You do?"

"Oh, yes. I'm not sure it's precisely what you need ... or something you should have. But, at the moment, it's exactly what you want. Tell me, Miriam. What is it that you want?"

Without comment, Miriam started turning her head in Stu's direction. Her eyes couldn't seem to make the break from hers for several long seconds, but finally, she did it. She looked at Stu. They stayed there for a long five seconds, then she rapidly, expectantly, turned them back toward Daphne's. She still hadn't uttered another sound.

"Yes," Daphne stated. "That's what you want. You abhor being the mistress, don't you, dear? You hate it. You want what all mistresses want. It's not your fault. It's just the way mistresses are. You are completely blameless in this. I can give you what you want. I can do it now. Right now. But you have to ask me for it. Do that now, Miriam."

She tried to turn her head toward Stu again; but, this time, she couldn't seem to do it. She looked as if she was ready to cry. "I ... I'm not to blame!" she sobbed.

"Ask for it, dear."

"Please! Please, I want him! Please!"

My boyfriend took a threatening step toward them. "What the fuck!?" he said, too loudly; too firmly. Daphne, a set scowl on her face, swiveled her head toward him, their eyes meeting. Stu's hand, which had been in the process of coming up to grasp something, stopped. Stu, himself, stopped. Then, he staggered back the pace he had just taken.

"I have a gift for you, too," Daphne sneered. "It might not be exactly what you want, but believe me: in just a minute, you will convince yourself that it is. And, you don't even have to ask for it. It's yours for the taking. All you have to do is demand it ... the same way you demand everything from Simone. Just take it from her. Freedom, Stu. It's yours. All you have to do is take it. Do it, man! Do it, and you'll be free! Don't ask her; tell her! Show everyone who's in charge! Do it now!"

Stu blinked. He looked down at his shuffling feet, then he balled his fists. "Fuck!" he muttered loudly. "Shit! I wasn't ready for this!" He looked at Miriam, then at me, careful to let his gaze slide past Daphne, almost as if she wasn't there. Then he glanced back Miriam again.

"I ... I told you I was going to do this, didn't I? I TOLD you!" He cast his attention back toward me. "Look, Simone. You didn't know this, but I've been seeing Miriam here for ... well, awhile now. I just didn't know how to break it to you. But ... it seems to have come out now, so there's really no point in putting it off anymore. I'm sorry that ..." He set his features into a mask of serious thought. "No, I'm not sorry. I'm glad, actually. To tell you the truth, you sort of suck at the girlfriend thing." He suddenly had a thought. "But look ... Miriam has a roommate, so we sort of ... uh ... I mean ... I really need to keep the apartment. Just until I can find another place. A day or two. A week, max; I promise."

Daphne cast an astonished look my way. "HE moved in with YOU!?"

Suddenly, I felt like I was at fault. For everything. "Uh ... yes?"

"Oooo!" Daphne said, stamping her foot. She looked as if she was about to launch back onto the offensive; but instead, she grabbed my hand and pulled me away toward the entrance. I shuffled behind her.

Halfway there, though, I planted my foot and jerked her around to face me. "What just happened?" I demanded firmly.

She gave me a sort of patronizing look, her smile faint. "You just broke up with your boyfriend. How does that make you feel, dear?"

I looked down, searching the floor and my innermost mind for the answer to that question. Finally, I met her eyes again. "It makes me feel ... good. I feel really, really good. But, are those MY feelings, Daphne? Are those feelings really my own?"

She took a step and held me by the shoulders. "I would never, ever change your feelings about anything, Simone. Can you believe that of me?"

My eyes must have once again relayed my answer, because she nodded and took my hand again. "Where are we going?" I asked as we left the building.

"We're going home, dear."

All the way to her car, I never spoke another word. I believe that my thoughts SHOULD have been moving at a frantic pace, here and there and back and forth. And yet, thinking back on it now, I'm not sure I had any thoughts at all. I must have thought about SOMETHING as she helped me into the passenger seat of her car; or about the things that we passed along the way. I mean, I had a general idea of where we were, what part of the city we were in, the direction we were driving. She was talking about something, but I wasn't really paying attention. I never commented, though. I never spoke a word. I can remember blushing as she introduced me to the desk guard downstairs in her apartment building, and I shook his hand as Daphne explained that I'd be staying with her for a while. He seemed nice. I can remember getting off the elevator on the eighth floor, and the number 807 on her door.

I wanted to look around a bit. I mean, it was a small apartment. It wouldn't have taken long. But she led me directly to the bedroom; then she turned me toward her. I was used to it now. Looking into her eyes, I mean. I knew what to expect, that feeling of falling into them. "You are very sleepy, dear," she said.

My eyes fluttered, and my whole body seemed to sag. If she hadn't been holding me by the shoulders, I think I might have fallen. "You," I muttered groggily. "You are making me feel this way. You're about to put me to sleep."

"You need rest, Simone. We'll talk in the morning. We have the rest of our lives to talk and get to know one another." I wanted to stop her as she started unbuttoning my blouse, but my arms evidently refused to function. "I'm not wearing any undies," I told her, my words coming in slow motion. "He likes me bare under my clothes." I grimaced. "He LIKED me bare under my clothes." It was my first challenge with tense.

"He never deserved you bare, Simone."

My skirt fell to my feet. I swayed slightly as she let go of me to peel back the covers. "Where are YOU going to sleep?" I asked. I didn't resist as she guided me into a horizontal position and pulled the covers up over me. The sheets were made of some sort of super-soft material, and they felt opulently wonderful against my naked skin.

"Well," she answered thoughtfully. "I only have one bedroom. It IS a king-sized bed. Or, I could sleep on the couch in the living room."

"NO!" I tried to shout, but mumbled quietly instead. "I should sleep on the couch!" I moved my arms in a way I hoped would convey the fact that I was getting up, but I think I only snuggled further into the bed's warmth, instead.

"What else is there to do?" she asked softly.

"King-sized bed!" I tried to yell. That was a good idea on my part, I thought. Wait ... it WAS my idea, wasn't it? Oh, it didn't matter, anyway. "Sleep in the big bed with me, okay? I'll stay over here on my side, I promise!"

She nodded as she rolled me gently onto my back. Suddenly, there was nothing in the whole universe except her eyes. "Are you ready for sleep now, Simone?

My eyelids weighed a ton. "Yes. You can put me to sleep now."

"Sleep."

And that was my day. Pretty crazy, huh? Now that I think about it, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, though, does it? I mean, I slept straight through to morning; and yet ... here I am writing in my diary about it like it was still tonight. That's kind of mixed up, isn't it? Oh, well. Maybe this is all just a dream. Yeah. That must be it. Because, all of a sudden, I'm really, really sleepy again. I'm going to go to sleep now, diary. See you next time.

TO BE CONTINUED