Sex Practice (42 page)

"Bloody hell!
What the fuck does he want?"

"I don't know,
he just asked to speak to you."

"Ok, switch it
through."

Sitting on his
desk, Larry lifted the receiver, wondering what on earth the local
paper wanted with him. "Doctor Lickman, speaking," he said
authoritatively.

"Ah, Doctor
Lickman, my name's Meddler, Dick Meddler. We're running a piece on
your practice and I wondered whether..."

"On my
practice?"

"Yes, I've
already interviewed several of your clients and a member of your
staff and I was wondering whether you'd like to react to their
comments?"

"Who was the
member of my staff?"

"Mrs Monica
Moodie."

"She's no
longer a member of my staff. What were her comments?"

"She's made
some pretty strong allegations about you, that's why I thought it
only fair to give you the chance to retaliate. As for the clients,
I've interviewed Mrs Cravings, Miss Jane Churcher, Christine
Cology..."

"She's not a
client!"

"Well, she
says that she visited your practice and that you examined her,
Doctor Lickman. I see no reason to disbelieve her. Funnily enough,
we were contacted by the Mother Superior of The Sacred Bloodied
Heart of Our Lady of the Damned Convent. She also had some very
interesting things to say about you."

"No comment!"
Larry snapped, banging the phone down. "Shit and double fucking
shit!"

Pacing the
floor, Larry kicked the broken glass across the floor as he cursed
Monica. "It's no wonder the fucking old cow hasn't turned up
today!" What he could do to stop the paper running the article, he
had no idea. Obviously, once word was out about his unorthodox
examination techniques, the allegations of enforced bondage and
whipping sessions - he'd be ruined. Time to call it a day, he
decided as a loud knock sounded on the door.

"Come in!" he
called irritably.

"Doctor
Lickman?" a besuited, briefcase-carrying young man asked as he
entered the room. "Oh, your window's broken!"

"How observant
of you. What do you want?"

"My name's
Basket, I'm from customs and excise."

"Are you now?
And what the fuck are you doing here? Why aren't you fucking well
customing and exercising?"

"Oh, there's
no need for that attitude, Doctor Lickman."

"Isn't
there?"

"No. Might I
take a seat?"

"Are you also
a bailiff?"

"A bailiff?
No, why do you ask?"

"In that case,
no, you cannot take my office furniture."

"Oh, yes,
er... it's come to our notice that you aren't VAT registered."

"That is
correct, I am not VAT registered. And I never have been, and I
never will be bloody VAT registered!"

"From the
figures I've received from the Inland Revenue, your turnover would
indicate that..."

"May I say
something, Basket?"

"Yes, yes of
course."

"I'm going to
count to five, and if you're not out of my establishment by then,
I'll rip your cock off and stuff it down your fucking throat!"

"Oh,
Doctor..."

"One!"

"But..."

"Two!"

Holding his
head as the man fled the room, Larry sighed. "God, what the fucking
hell's going to happen next?" Taking the whisky from the desk
drawer, he gulped down a mouthful and left the room. "Brigit!" he
yelled, bounding down the hall and swigging from the bottle again.
"Brigit, where the fucking hell are you!"

"What? What is
it, Larry?" she asked, peering over the counter. "Should you be
drinking scotch at this time of the morning?"

"I have
nothing else to drink! Where's my bloody coffee?"

"Oh, yes, I
was just..."

"Did you let
that cunt of a VAT man in?"

"VAT man? But
he said he was a salesman from Garry's Gynaecological Gadgets."

"Lying,
fucking, thieving bastard! Where the fuck's Lily?"

"She's just
come in. She's..."

"Don't tell
me, she's in the toilet! Right, this is what we'll do..."

"Your first
client's in the waiting room, Larry."

"Shit! The
local paper are on to me, Brigit! They've spoken to Monica and...
shit, what the hell shall I do?"

"You'd better
see your client and then we'll talk about it."

"OK, OK.
Right, send her to the examination room. I can hardly use my
consulting room now that cunt-faced wanker Clarke has smashed the
fucking window!"

"Right, I'll
send her in."

Clearing the
ropes away from the examination couch, Larry decided that, as this
might well be his last client, he'd really put her through it.
"I'll fuck her arse, I'll fuck her mouth, I'll fuck her cunt,
I'll... oh, hallo!" he smiled as a pretty ginger-haired girl
drifted silently into the room.

"Hallo,
Doctor. Your receptionist sent me along to see you. My name's Oral
Orifice."

"That's an
unusual name."

"Yes, my
parents named after the way I was conceived, but I've never
understood what they meant."

"After the way
you were conceived? I don't see how oral... anyway, how can I help
you?" he asked, gazing at her extremely short blue miniskirt.

"Well, I've
been suffering from a vaginal complaint for some time now, but my
GP tells me that it's psychosomatic."

"Yes, some
vaginal complaints are psychosomatically psychosomatic. What is the
complaint, exactly?" Larry asked, patting the couch. "Lie down and
I'll have a look at you."

"It's strange,
but I have a sort of numb feeling around my... well, around my
clitoris," she said, lying on the couch.

"Numb? That's
unusual for such a sensitive area. Is your clitoris numb, or just
the surrounding flesh?"

"My clitoris
is fine, as sensitive as ever!"

"OK, lift your skirt up and slip your panties down," he
smiled.
Here we go again
.

Gazing in awe
at her shaved pussy crack as she tugged her skirt up over her
stomach and pulled her knickers down to her knees, Larry frowned.
His suspicion rising as she began to unbutton her blouse, he moved
to the window and peered through the crack in the curtain. The
coast seemed clear, he mused, returning to the girl's side. But it
had seemed clear the night before.

"Er... you
don't seem to have any pubic hair," he said pensively, eyeing her
full vaginal lips, her long dividing groove as she opened her
blouse and lifted her bra clear of her pert breasts. "Is there any
particular reason for that?"

"Yes, they
never grew," she replied.

"That's most
unusual." So unusual he did not believe it, he mused, observing a
fine stubble covering her swollen sex lips, the rising flesh on her
mons. She had shaved!

"Yes, that's
what my GP said. The numbness is all around my clitoris," she said,
unashamedly parting her soft outer labia with her slender fingers
and exposing her pink cumbud, her moist inner sex folds to Larry's
appreciative gaze. "All around there, round the base of my
clitoris. Do you think the lack of pubic hair and the numbness are
connected?"

"Possibly, I
have come across such a phenomenon before. OK, let me take a look,"
he said, moving her hand away and holding her pussy lips wide
apart, examining her succulent, pinken lust hole.

Breathing heavily and twisting her long nipples as Larry
examined her clitoris, the girl appeared to be highly sexually
aroused. Massaging her stiffening sex button, Larry was sure that
this was yet another girl sent as bait to lure him into a trap.
They didn't give up, he reflected, slipping two fingers into her
drenched cunt.
Right, I'll teach the little
slut to come here and trick me into fucking her
.

"Wait there a
minute, I'm just going to get a vaginal speculum," he said,
withdrawing his girl-wet fingers from her vagina and leaving the
room. Dashing down the hall to reception, he called out for Brigit,
grabbing her arm as she approached him.

"What is it?"
she asked.

"That girl in
there, she's a fucking spy!" he whispered. "Don't let anyone come
into the building. Lock all the doors and don't let anyone in.
Don't even answer the phone."

"All right.
How do you know she's a spy?"

"I recognize
the bitch - she works for the local paper."

"Fuck me! How
come you recognize her?"

"I remember
her being pictured in the paper a couple of years back. She was
their top reporter of the year or something. I remember her because
the article was next to an advert I tore out of the paper. I'm
positive that it's her."

"What are you
going to do?"

"Well, I
reckon we're totally fucked, what with DI Clarke, the newspaper,
Ravenhugh, the VAT man, my bloody wife... get Lily out of the
toilets and keep watch while I thrash the girl's buttocks and fuck
her tight bum-hole!"

"But, Larry...
what are we going to do, long term?"

"As yet, I
don't know. It would seem that everyone is closing in, I really
don't know what to do. Right, if there's a problem, ring the
reception bell. Keep your finger on the button and don't stop
ringing until I get here. OK, I'm going to deal with the reporter
of the fucking year!"

Returning to
the bondage room, Larry wasn't surprised to discover the girl lying
naked on the couch. Scrutinizing her suntanned curvaceous body
spread invitingly before him, he concealed a wicked grin. His last
client, he mused.

"Right, stand
up and lean over the couch, Oral," he instructed his unsuspecting
victim, his penis stiffening as she climbed off the couch and bent
over. "That's it, stand with your feet wide apart. I'm pretty sure
I know what the problem is, so I'll check your spinal alignment.
Lean right over the couch with your arms sketched out."

"What about
the vaginal speculum?" she asked, taking her position, her rounded
buttocks projected, vulnerable - perfectly placed for a
whipping!

"There's no
need for the speculum now. You see, if your spine's slightly out of
alignment, then your pubic hair would never grow and you'd sense a
numbness around the base of your clitoris. Tell me, do you ever
feel tempted to push a finger into your bottom? I ask you that
because it's another sign of rampant spinal misalignment."

"Why, yes, I
do feel the urge to do that."

Lying bitch
. "Ah, I thought as
much."

Taking a long
length of rope, Larry secured it to one end of the couch. Hauling
the rope over her back, he pulled it tight and quickly bound the
other end to the head of the couch, grinning wickedly as she
struggled to stand up. Ignoring her hysterical threats, he bound
rope to her ankles, pulling her feet wide apart and securing the
ends to the couch legs. Her bottom crease gaping, her brown anal
entrance exposed, defenceless, he grabbed a leather strap from the
shelf and began lashing her taut buttocks.

"Please, what
are you doing?" she cried, her body jolting with every deafening
crack of the strap. "Ouch! Ah! God, no! Please, don't!"

"What's the
matter, reporter of the year? Suddenly got cold feet, have
you?"

"Please, I'm
not a... argh! I'm not a reporter!"

"You're in for
the thrashing of your life, and then for the arse-fucking of your
life!" he stormed, wondering how the trap was to be sprung, who was
going to try to enter the building and catch him in his debauched
act. A newspaper photographer perhaps?

"I don't
understand, why are you beating me? What have I done?" she screamed
as the leather strap cracked loudly across her tensed bottom orbs,
leaving wide pink stripes in its wake. "Please, you're hurting
me!"

"Hurting you?
I'll thrash your bum until the pain turns into pleasure and you
come all down your thighs!"

The lashing
continuing unabated, Larry lost himself in his debauchery, her
crimson buttocks and screams for mercy only serving to drive him
on. Eyeing her cunny juice coursing down her inner thighs, dripping
from her gaping cunt and pooling on the floor, he decided to fuck
all her holes one after the other - again and again and again until
she passed out with sexual pleasure.

"Christ,
Larry!" Brigit gasped as she entered the room and gazed at the
girl's scarlet bottom cheeks. "I think she's had enough!"

"Never!" he
cried, bringing the leather strap down again, causing Oral to jolt
and scream. "Never! Never! Never!"

"That's
enough!" Lily shrieked, grabbing his arm to halt the punishment.
"God, you'll kill her!"

"That was the
idea," Larry panted, rubbing his aching arm as he discarded the
strap.

"Christ, she's
soaked," Brigit observed, kneeling behind the sobbing girl. "Look
at her cunt milk, it's streaming out of her hole."

"God," Lily
breathed, kneeling beside Brigit, "I'd like to lick her out."

"And me,"
Brigit rejoined as Larry leaned against the wall, his penis bulging
his trousers.

Watching the
cunt juice-thirsty girls lapping at Oral's inner thighs, their
tongues trying to slip into her gaping vaginal entrance, Larry
sighed, wondering why everything had gone so terribly wrong. It was
only a matter of time, he reflected, looking back over the years of
sex with one client after another. Only a matter of time.

"What's the
plan, Oral?" he asked the whimpering girl as fingers delved deep
into her drenched cunt, her bottom-hole. "You're from the local
paper, so what's the plan?"

"I'm not
from..."

"I recognize
you, so there's no point in lying any more. Now, what's the
plan?"

"I was... my
colleague was going to come here and..."

"Is the main
door locked, Brigit?"

"Yes, it's
locked."