3: 00am on a Monday in May.

“So nice to meet you. Doctor Hertford. I’d love to have a visit but I’m dreadfully afraid of offices. How about lunch at my place?”
I took her hand and shook it
“Of course, your address is on this card, yes?”

“Yes it is” she smiled and stalked off. I stared at her fine ass as she sashayed across the street.

I looked down at her card. Carle Ricciardi. Her house address seemed exclusive.

I gave her ass one long lingering look and went into my building.

They say the Internet is a paranoiacs dream; I say paranoia is perfect awareness. I fire up the Firefox and type in her name.

Nothing incriminating. I still bothered about how she managed to bump into me and know I’m a shrink.

Carle seemed regular and honest. I subconsciously checked my calendar and I had an opening.

I dialled the number she dropped. On the third ring she picked up. My hand froze on my tie.

“Hello”came the formal clipped tone “who’s this?”

“This is Nathan Hertford. I’m Calling To Speak With Miss. Ricciardi ”

“Oh” she breathed “hi doctor.”
Her tone had changed to an alluring one. The sex appeal beckoned to me, whispered my name and caressed my neck.

“Is there any problem?” She asked again. The background was silent so all I heard was her gaspy breathing.

“No. Not at all. I’m free on Friday evening so I called to rub- I mean- run it by you.”

She giggled, and my pelvic muscles clenched in expectation.

“That’s just swell, doctor. I’ll keep it open just for you.”
The rest of the week sped by like a dream. I was, however, in a fix. Does she want sex or a serious psychological guidance?

I shoved a pack of condoms in my wallet and picked up my briefcase. Checked my beard on my way out of the house.
As I had assumed, her house was in a highbrow gated community. Pristine white porched houses dotted the clean asphalt ends and lush green grass florished. Her house had a skin toned feel to it. Lots of browns and nudes. I parked in her driveway and made it up the steps. The door swung open before I got to the landing and she was standing there in a sheer bra and a line green thong.

“Hi Nathan. I was just setting up. Come on in”

She traipsed ahead of me. That ass of hers swinging into tune to the Rhythm of my name.

Na-than. Na-than. Na-than.

“Nathan, this is where we’ll be working. My guest bedroom.”
I went in and sat in a tulip chair across from the bed. She had lighted some candles and the windows were slightly shuttered.

She came in with two glasses of white wine and handed one to me.

“I usually don’t drink while on the job.”

“The job starts later.” She said, tilting her glass in my direction before sipping.

I inhaled the wine first. Normal for any drinker. I took a small sip. My eyes trained on her all along. The white was heady like citrus and mahogany. I liked it.

As I placed the wine glass down, I noticed she had stayed still for a while.

“Carle? Are you okay? ” I moved cautiously to the bed, and peered over her.
I leaned in to catch her breath when she kissed me.

A few orgasms later, I felt completely drained, I rolled off her and threw the used condom in the little pile on the ground. She felt heavenly but I couldn’t risk it.

My eyes were still closed.I figured the last orgasm had left me blind.

She pushed another glass into my hand. Biting my earlobe and whispering “rest now. The real work starts soon”
***

I had been moved. That was the first thing my muddy mind allowed through to me.
No longer silk and cotton. But cold metal. I struggled to open my heavy lidded eyes.The annoying realization sat thick in my stomach. I was drugged.

My hands were held down my metal cuffs, same as my legs. I rose my head to look arose and Carle was sitting between my legs, fiddling with something.

Clamps, the telltale cold screws told me all I needed to know. She looked me dead in the eye. The way she did as she choked on my dick.

“Is this tight enough for you?” With a twist of her wrist, the clamp tightened significantly around my testicles.

“Fuck” I started, my words sounding drawn out and retarded
“Fuck” I said again.
“We just did ” she said slowly, twirling the wine in her glass “severally. And Fuck me you did. You little beast.”

“I don’t understand” I tried. “I don’t –

“Let me explain, my sweet.” She placed the wine somewhere in the dark. The clink of glass meeting stone.
“You’re my shrink.” She said, grabbing my face with her delicate palm “and while I wish you weren’t. A shrink, i mean. I can’t quite help the situation.”

“Here’s the issue I have with all you shrinks. Walking around like you’re god’s favorite kind.”

She resumed her position at my balls.
“You’re all bloody good fucks” she buried her hands in her hair

“The guy that raped me was” she ticked him off her finger, tightening the clamps.
I wiggled.

“Don’t worry. Nathan. I’ll be gentle.”
She walked away and returned with a jar of something. At first I thought it was oil. But as she poured it on me. It slowly registered that it was hot candle wax.

I screamed. “Shush now Nathan” she said very sternly “no one will hear you” I could feel the wax harden, trapping stray hairs.

“I was only seven, Nathan. But I liked it. I liked it so much I went back.”

“Carle, I can help you.”

“NO YOU CAN’T !!!!! NO ONE CAN. ALL OF YOU LIE HERE AND TELL ME YOU CAN BUT YOU CAN’T ” with every word, she twisted the clamps. I never really understood why women liked waxing, I reflected,trying to take the edge off feeling my hair being pulled off.

“So I ran from home, seeking the solace I found in a rough grip on my hair and dirty talk”

I dug my nails into my palms until I was certain I broke skin. Carle was still talking, surely she didn’t expect me to actually listen.

“If only you knew” she said after a while
“perhaps you would have done things differently.”
“Nathan? Are you listening?”

I shook my head, my teeth buried in my lower lip, tears streaming down my cheeks. Realizing I made a grave mistake, I nodded frantically. She looked at me with pity.

“Can’t even withstand a little pain.” She said, turning the clamp tighter and tighter.

I was dead. This is it. My body was going to go onto shock and I’d die. The faint pop and sputter affirmed that I’d have no kids. If I even lived. Then the pain registered. It was like a warped fevered dream. Like paper crumpling up. I shut my eyes. A dull ring in my ears.
She was still talking. I couldn’t hear much though . I was dying.

She came into view and wiped my tears “don’t worry, Nathan. You’ll really like it from here.”
Then she slapped me. “I go through all this trouble to make you comfortable and can’t even listen to me”
She walked away and returned with another jar. Starting from my belly. She poured it slowly in circles.
It was cool and odorless. This continued till I was covered head to toe. Then came the ants or bees. I think. I was dead already didn’t see why I should have bothered with looking

I lay there for years. It seemed. Carle was rambling on and on. I snapped back when I realized the metal slab I was on had become warm
Had I become so warm I affected the metal. Or was she cooking me? I decided on the latter. Especially as the plastic sizzled on my skin.

I opened my eyes then and looked at her. She was drinking.
“You’re the devil.” I said, the smell of boiling beef reaching my nose. My mouth watered and all human responses returned. I was Hungry. For my own flesh.

“I know I’m the devil, Nathan, but there are many worse than me. And there are many who have died right here.”

And so I died. With The Justification Of A Sexual Serial Killer On My ears

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