This is an edited draft. Please keep that in mind when reading this story. I hope you enjoy this tale enough to vote. Thank you.
*****
Acclaimed Boston Psychiatrists Tries to 'Cure' Lisle
A few stray leaves, crusty and dry blew upward and through Cambridge Street as Lisle made her way toward the doctor's office. Boston traffic was snarled and she was running late. Her stiletto heels clicked and clacked along the ashen colored sidewalk. Long legs carried her quickly along the bustling city street.
The wind caught her shoulder length bobbed hair and a few feathery strays brushed against her naked neck. She resisted the urge to stop and indulge in the erotic feel as it tickled her skin. The wind caressed her cheek leaving Lisle feeling as if a wild lover had touched her.
Her senses were always hyper aroused like that. Little things that people mildly delighted in or outright ignored she'd be sexually aroused from. Her body would become wet and swollen with anticipation. All this stimulation would drive her to chat rooms, bars, on line hookup sights anyplace to scratch that deep incessant urge inside her.
Lisle's obsessive carnal appetite drove her jealous lover Jacob away and he took her four-year-old daughter with him. Sophia was the only thing she loved, truly loved, so deeply it pained her sometimes. Her ex lover was granted temporary sole custody, giving her only supervised visitation. Jacob, or rather his litany of lawyers knew the judge presiding over the case that day was one of the few conservative hardballs left in Massachusetts.
The day she was served with the temporary restraining order, Lisle felt her life was being swallowed into an all-consuming black hole. Jacob claimed her too numerous to remember dalliances were a dangerous influences on Sophia. She'd never brought men home, ever. She kept her lascivious behaviors well shrouded. Her hunting grounds were spread far and wide but never, never close to home. Lisle was a loving, caring mother, the kind of mother she always yearned for as a child. Jacob lied. There were so many lies in that one court document. Reading the issue made her sick and nauseas with contempt.
Jacob was a cunning and retaliatory prick, bent on destroying and hurting Lisle in the worst way possible, by using their daughter as savory bait. He was a rich prick though and could afford all the best blood sucking lawyers' money could buy. She needed to get her ducks lined up and fight him with every bit of strength she could muster.
This was the reason for her doctors visit today. This shrink was a renowned psychiatrist who specialized in compulsive disorders. Hers was nymphomania. 'Hyper sexuality' was more politically correct though in 'polite' conservative society. Lisle hadn't ever been ashamed or guilty about her behavior. She had sex with strangers, all the time, constantly. She had stringently practiced safe sex though. No condom no sex. This had been the strictest of rules she always followed.
Men fucked around without reproach, readily accepted even smiled upon by some. She fucked lots of different men and she was the Whore of Babylon. When she'd gotten the court documents filled with hateful lies though she felt like a slut for the first time.
Click, click click. As troubling thoughts vexed her brain and filled her with fury, her high heels tore the sidewalk asunder under her raging gait. The late autumn afternoon cast long across the tall buildings. Scuttling leaves danced and scraped along the Boston sidewalk. The scent of their dry crispy sharpness filled her nose. She inhaled deeply, remembering flashes of her troubled childhood, burying herself in leaf piles and laughing. One of the few times she remembered being happy. The wind whipped and whirled between the high rises. Lisle clutched the collar of her coat tightly to her throat to keep out the pervasive chill.
One night she had missed her daughter so bone deep she sobbed uncontrollably in her little girl's tiny bed. In a fit of unfettered rage and rare self-loathing, Lisle cut her waist long dirty blonde hair until the length rested just below her shoulders. She had paid over one hundred dollars in her expensive salon on Copley Street for a haircut. That night she had saved a lot of money and was glad of it. She'd need the cash, every bit she could save to pay for the expensive lawyers.
Lisle had regretted cutting her hair the moment the lengthy shorn pieces of dark gold fell into the bathroom sink. She'd loved when her spindly curls hung long down her naked back while she rode her many lovers. The curls had bounced and sashayed across her nude body and the feeling had been almost as orgasmic as a man's finger messaging her wet, swollen clit.
The therapists called these 'triggers.' Meaning everything she inhaled, smelled, tasted, heard and touch aroused her. The counselor explained that Lisle needed to eliminate as many of these triggers as possible. How many triggers could she possibly eliminate though? It was sheer madness! For her everything was a sexual trigger.
At the urging of her therapist she scheduled an appointment with the psychiatrist in Boston. He was a supposedly renowned in his field. It took months to get an appointment and that was with her counselor pulling strings.
After researching him extensively Lisle was surprised to discover Dr. Charles Stewart was a tall, broad shouldered, black haired and strikingly handsome. He'd graduated from Harvard Medical School, had been captain of his college rowing team and had his own very successful practice.
In almost all the photos of him online he was dressed in supremely expensive, well tailored suits. He hulked over every man in the photos. Almost all the females in the snapshots were nearly swooning over him. Stewart though was never smiling. He had a brooding intensity about him and his smoldering black eyes added to the allure.
After hearing Lisle talk about how good-looking Dr. Stewart was, her therapist Elizabeth had urged her to instead see another psychiatrist. Considering her client's explosive sexual proclivities she'd worried Lisle wouldn't be able to control her impulses. Lisle assured her it wouldn't be a problem but she was lying and Elizabeth knew it. Dr. Stewart, like all other men was pry, and even more desirable because he was forbidden fruit. The shrink had a solid, sterling reputation. Held in high esteem by colleagues and patients. He had everything to loose if he slept with a patient. The doctor could loose his license, face sanctions and even criminal charges.
Lisle wasn't out to destroy his reputation though. She wasn't a vindictive bitch but she did want something from him, her daughter back. She'd seduce him and get him hooked.
Once sufficiently ensnared she'd have him advocate tirelessly for her and say whatever she needed him to say in court so she could win custody of Sophia. There wasn't a man yet who hadn't fallen into her seductive clutches. Stewart had a professional reputation to uphold but he was still a man. At the core they were all primitive, sexually driven creatures.
****
The office was located in a high-rise near the Prudential center. Lisle glanced at her smart phone just as she entered the building. With any luck she'd just make it in time for her appointment. She jabbed at the buttons when the doors closed. The elevator swiftly carried her to the thirty-third floor. Lisle tapped her soft and supple fingers impatiently on the gray power coated railing. She was an artist, a sculptor. Her hands were her livelihood so she protected them fastidiously. Multiple times a day she indulged in the sensual and sexually arousing act of messaging creamy lotions and herbal lavender oils into her hands.
Dr. Stewart's office was large, elegant and impressive. His stellar success was evident in his well-appointed work place. Huge floor to ceiling plate glass windows offered amazing panoramic views of Boston. The office was decorated in a minimalist theme and exuded class and refined taste. From her perspective as an artist she wholly appreciated his hip, aesthetic style.
A well heeled twenty something administrator greeted Lisle when she approached the reception desk. She was attractive in a dull sort of way. Nothing stood out about her, nothing arresting or bold. Lisle had a pretty face that looked almost exotic. This didn't make her beautiful, but striking. The only real wholesome feature she had was a light dusting of freckles across her nose.
"May I help you?" The woman cocked her head and smiled slightly.
'Oh, that oh so common severely professional and reserved smile!' Lisle mused. The A-typical polite aloofness, such a mundane trait shared amongst the professional woman in Boston.
"Lisle Lundgren to see doctor Charles Stewart please." Lisle rested her arm on the tall frosted glass reception desk. It was cool and she embraced the chill.
