("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text



















------------------------------------------------------
Archiving and reposting of this story is permitted, 
but only if acknowledgment of copyright and statement 
of limitation of use is included with the article. 
This story is copyright (c) 2012 by The Technician 
(Technician666@Gmail.Com)
------------------------------------------------------

The Defiled One - A Halloween Story
by The Technician (technician666@gmail.com)

***

Just a typical Halloween night in the psych ward, 
except that a dead man shows up as a beautiful 
nymphomaniac. (MF, nc, orgy, sluts, fantasy)

***

Author's Note: All of my writing is intended for 
adults over the age of 18 ONLY. Stories may contain 
strong or even extreme sexual content. All people and 
events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to 
persons living or dead is purely coincidental. 
Actions, situations, and responses are fictional ONLY 
and should not be attempted in real life.

***

"It isn't that I hate Halloween, Mary, and no, I don't 
have a wife or family that I have to be with or kids 
to take Trick-or-Treating. It's just that I totally 
and absolutely hate being on duty at a state 
psychiatric facility on Halloween. That's why at the 
very beginning of every year I put in for a week of 
vacation from October 28th through November 2nd. You 
approve it every year, including this year. I do that 
because I do not want to be here nor do I have any 
desire to be on call at all this week."

Dr. Marion Hudson, director of the Madison State 
Psychiatric Hospital slowly shook her head and 
replied, "I know, Frank, I have always honored your 
request, but Dr. Wilson didn't plan to have a heart 
attack this week either, and until he can recover or 
we can get a temporary replacement it is you and me to 
cover as supervising psychiatrists. And since I have 
to testify before that congressional committee in 
Washington tomorrow, for the next four days, YOU are 
on call. There is nothing I can do about it. I am very 
sorry that you might be called away from your 
Halloween party this year, but that's the way it is."

I muttered something vulgar under my breath about not 
going to any Halloween parties and walked out of the 
office. I haven't gone to a Halloween party in years. 
In fact, ever since I started working at a mental 
hospital years ago as a lowly resident, I have had no 
use at all for Halloween. One of the reasons I bought 
a place way out in the country is so that I can 
totally avoid Halloween. 

Out there, I don't have to put up decorations; I never 
get Trick-or-Treaters; and I don't have to keep the 
porch light on. For me Halloween is a time to retreat 
to my isolated twenty-seven acres of land and enjoy a 
quiet evening at home. Unfortunately, I knew that 
wasn't going to be the case this year.

Halloween brings out the worst of the delusional, the 
drugged-out, and the just plain weird. Some of those 
most affected by Halloween will end up at the 
facility, and some junior psych on duty will decide 
that he or she can't handle it. Then they will call 
the attending super - me, and I will have to come in 
to the hospital to deal with whatever it was that they 
thought a psychiatric resident intern couldn't handle. 
It will be messy and difficult and will end up burying 
me in weeks of follow-up paperwork. No wonder I hate 
Halloween.

Exactly as I expected, the phone rang at 9:30 on 
Halloween just as I was settling down in front of the 
large screen TV with a dark ale and some of my home-
made chili. It was Larry, a just-out-of- school 
psychiatrist who looked younger than the high school 
boy I have help me with the yard in the summertime. "I 
hate to bother you, doctor Walters, but this is way 
beyond my pay grade."

I hate that expression, but decided now was not the 
time to instruct a subordinate on not using obnoxious 
clichés and just replied, "Give me the summary."

"Police brought her in about two hours ago. She was 
turning tricks in the back room of a bar downtown and 
they were going to charge her with prostitution, but 
she didn't have any money on her and wasn't charging 
the johns, so they couldn't make a prostitution charge 
stick. Actually she didn't have anything on her... 
including clothing. 

Once they figured out what was going on, they decided 
she needed to be brought here. The officer who brought 
her in said, quote 'She was pulling a free, around the 
world train for anyone who would come into the room. 
She tried to take my partner's pants off and kept 
waving a little notebook at us and screaming that she 
only needed two more'."

"When they tried to arrest her for public intoxication 
as an excuse to bring her here, she went wild on them 
and scratched the hell out of the officer. They ended 
up having to call in backup and EMTs. She came in here 
literally wrapped in restraint belts and tied to a 
Gurney. She was still screaming her head off. 

Medics said she was maxed out on everything they could 
give her and it wasn't making a dent. When she came in 
the door the first thing she said to me was "Fuck me. 
Please fuck me. I only need two more and he is coming 
at midnight. If I haven't fucked a thousand men by 
then he will come and tear me apart and eat me."

I listened calmly and tried not to sound too sarcastic 
as I replied. "So far this sounds like just a really 
severe Halloween delusion." I silently added, "Even 
you should be able to handle this without me," then I 
continued aloud, "And why do you think I need to come 
in?"

Larry almost shouted into the phone, "She says that 
she is Harold Aldridge, and the facial recognition 
software gives a 62 probability so she is most likely 
at least a relative."

That got my attention. Harold Aldridge was one of "The 
Thirteen." He and his buddies were investment brokers 
who somehow had managed to keep ahead of the market 
regardless of what it did. They always seemed to buy 
just before a stock soared and sell just before all 
hell broke loose. The S.E.C. had investigated them 
upside, downside and inside out but couldn't prove any 
wrongdoing. They claimed they had a secret system, but 
whatever it was they weren't sharing it with anybody.

A little over two weeks ago, the police found twelve 
of them apparently chewed to pieces in a clearing in 
the woods south of town. There was barely enough of 
them left to identify. The gruesome nature of the 
deaths and the charred and blackened stone altar 
standing in the middle of the clearing had all of the 
earmarks of some sort of satanic ritual, but no 
evidence of who... or what tore the men apart was 
found. The police were baffled. 

One of the thirteen remained un-accounted for... 
Harold Aldridge. Some residue on the altar was DNA 
tested and the conclusion was that it had to have come 
from Harold's sister - perhaps a twin sister. The only 
problem with that theory was that as far as anyone 
could determine, Harold Aldridge was an only child.

"I'll be there in about an hour," I said into the 
phone, and then yelled an obscenity at the wall. I 
think Larry clearly heard my verbal tantrum, but he 
ignored it and asked, "What should I do in the 
meantime? She is tearing through almost any restraint 
that we have and I can't give her any more drugs 
without the risk of killing her."

"Just do whatever you need to do to calm her down 
until I get there. And DON'T talk to the police or any 
reporters or anyone else on the staff about who you 
think she might be. Do you totally understand that?"

I got a rather stiff, "Yes, sir," and Larry hung up 
the phone.

I ignored two texts from Larry on my way in. Both 
asked, "How long?" It was like a little kid asking, 
"Are we there yet?"

Because I live in the country, it takes a certain 
length of time to travel from my house, where I wanted 
to be, to the high-security mental ward, where I 
didn't want to be on this particular night. Since I 
really would have preferred to have spent the evening 
nursing a couple of dark ales and watching old movies, 
for some reason I wasn't breaking any speed limits to 
get there.

I arrived in just under an hour. Larry met me at the 
door. "Status?" I asked.

"She has calmed a little. I told her that you would 
speak with her and help her solve her problems when 
you got here. That seemed to help a lot."

"It sure did, you naive twit," I thought to myself. 
"She calmed down for you, but a stupid promise like 
that plants seeds of expectation so she will melt down 
or blow up or go catatonic on me, and at the case 
review, I'm the one who will have to explain what I 
did to trigger it." I really felt like giving Larry a 
little education in practical psychiatry in a lock-
down ward, but instead just asked, "What room?"

"Room 6. Full observation system is in place. It was 
down for about twenty minutes while you were on your 
way in, but all video and audio systems are up and 
running now."

When I entered the room, she was sitting up on the cot 
naked, her back against some pillows, her legs 
splayed, rubbing herself lightly with her fingertips. 
As a psychiatrist, you see everything in this place, 
but I wasn't prepared for this. I had expected a 
strung-out druggie, but instead, she was a totally 
stunning woman, even in her disheveled state. Her hair 
was a flaxen shade of blond that normally could come 
only out of a bottle, but the highlights, especially 
when it was as mussed up as it was, could only occur 
with a natural blond.

There was no other hair on her body, not even on her 
forearms. Normally, in that case I would assume that 
someone had done full-body permanent hair removal, but 
looking at the area around her vulva I could see that 
there were no indications of hair follicles - none of 
the little plucked- chicken bumps that give away dense 
hair removal. She looked like one of those raunchy 
drawings of a frat-boy's wet dream idea of a perfect 
woman. That idea was reinforced by her first words as 
I entered the room, "Are you going to fuck me?"

I stopped and looked at her eyes and then she added, 
"I just need one more and I will be at a thousand. I 
only need one more before midnight to save myself."

Maybe Larry wasn't as naive as I thought. The initial 
reports indicated that she was yelling that she needed 
two more. I guess I know what he did to calm her down. 
At least he knew to shut down the observation system.

"You want to tell me about it?" I began. The usual 
response to that question is normally a silent stare, 
but she grinned at me and asked in return, "Will you 
fuck me if I tell you what happened?"

I smiled back at her and answered, "If you tell me the 
complete story, I will seriously consider it, if that 
is what you truly need." 

"It's what I absolutely need and you will understand 
once I tell you the whole story. A lot of what I am 
going to tell you will seem unbelievable, but you must 
believe me. My life depends on you believing me... and 
fucking me."

She paused like she was waiting for a response, but 
when I said nothing, she exhaled deeply and began 
speaking almost as if she were dictating case notes. 
"To begin with my name is Harold Aldridge and I am 243 
years old. That sounds impossible - both that I am 
that old and that I used to be a man, but my friends 
and I..., we made a deal with the devil - well, 
actually he's a minor demon, but the effect was the 
same."

"His name is 'Quello Caduto,' The Fallen One, but he 
goes by 'Quello,' or in English, 'The One.'"

"He is called 'The Fallen One' because he started out 
as some sort of good spirit or benign natural force 
somewhere over in Italy, but then a couple thousand 
years ago he got really pissed off when he was 
betrayed or turned down or rejected or whatever by the 
leader of a coven that followed him and drew their 
power from him. He became consumed by his anger and it 
turned him evil. Whatever he used to be, he is now 
definitely one, mean, son-of-a-bitchin' demon."

She laughed and drew in a deep breath. "Our deal with 
him was simple. There had to be thirteen of us. He 
gave us eternal youth and the ability to know what 
ships would come in with good cargoes and what 
companies would be profitable. In return we would 
supply him with a defiled white witch for him to rape 
and consume once every fifty-two years. I know that 
you are thinking that witches don't exist either, but 
there are more of them than you can imagine. And the 
true witches - especially the white, or good witches - 
are not the 'dress in black, cast an evil spell old 
hags' that the novels and movies portray. Witches are, 
for the most part, rather young and beautiful young 
women - and sometimes men - who are totally in tune 
with the powers of nature and the spirits that inhabit 
this world."

"The highest day of power for witches is Samhain, and 
that is NOT October 31st. The Witch's Sabbath, if you 
want to call it that, is the dark of the moon 
following the autumnal equinox. Usually that is at 
least a week or two before the 31st. When the Romans 
brought Samhain back from England, they moved it to 
the end of October because they had a solar, not a 
lunar calendar. Then the Christian church tried to 
bury it by overlaying it with a day of the dead called 
"All Saints Day" or "All Hallows Day." All Hallows Eve 
became Halloween and somehow the witches got blamed 
for it, but the days are not the same.

Once every 52 years, however, the solar and lunar 
calendars complete their cycles together. In that 
year, for some reason, Samhain - the night of the true 
witch's Sabbath - is even more powerful, and in that 
year Quello can physically materialize on the earth. 
He commands that we procure for him the purest witch 
that we can find, defile her, and deliver her to him 
one hour before dawn begins to light the sky on the 
morning after Samhain. I think that is the exact time 
that witch-goodie-two-shoes turned him down."

She looked at me, half-grinned in a strange, almost 
seductive way, and continued, "If you do something 
only once every 52 years, most people don't notice the 
pattern and even the most careful covens get careless. 
It was just a matter of us watching and planning and 
preparing very carefully. 

We would always use special enchantments which Quello 
had taught us so that we could hide in the woods, 
concealed from even most powerful enchantresses of the 
local covens. Our concealment spells were so good that 
we could even be close enough to watch their naked 
bodies as they danced sky clad around their sacred 
fires and joined with nature on that darkest of all 
nights."

"At midnight, at the end of all of the rituals, when 
they had exhausted themselves from dance and song, the 
final action of the ritual was to walk silently away 
from the sacred fire carrying glowing coals from the 
fire out into the world. 

Their paths went straight outward from the fire like 
spokes on a wheel until they were far enough away from 
the fire and each other that the glowing coals they 
carried in the carved out turnips was the only light 
by which they could see. At that point there was a 
final chanted prayer for them to bring light into the 
darkness of the world, and then they would put their 
clothes back on and return to their homes."

"Every 52 years, however, one witch in one coven 
somewhere in the world would not make it home and 
would never be seen or heard from again. The thirteen 
of us would surround her chanting the spell of 
darkness that The One had taught us. We would then 
close in on her like a noose."

"For that, we were chanting capture spells, also 
taught us by Quello. By the time we reached her, she 
would be unable to speak or move. We would then take 
her back to the center of her coven's clearing and lay 
her upon their sacred altar. Quello was very specific 
with what we had to do to her. Each of us was to use 
her mouth and ass and her cunt. She was to be fucked 
thirty- nine times so that she was completely defiled 
by the time The One appeared in the hour before dawn."

"The spell that we used prevented her from making a 
sound, but it didn't stop her from screaming and 
crying out silently. Her thrashing attempts to get out 
from under us made the rape of her ass and mouth all 
the more enjoyable. And when it came time to fuck her 
cunt, it was as if I was an erupting volcano inside of 
her. On no other occasion would I cum so heavily with 
such copious amounts of hot, sticky cum. By the time 
Quello arrived, she would be truly defiled and would 
be curled up silently sobbing on the altar as Quello 
Caduto appeared above her."

She shuddered like she was swallowing something bitter 
and distasteful. "Watching what he did to her was 
truly horrifying, but at the same time truly 
fascinating. His long, snakelike tongue would slither 
all over her body until despite herself she would 
begin to respond to his caresses. He would curl his 
tongue around her breasts until she was panting and 
moaning and across her cunt and clit until she was 
thrashing and bouncing upon the altar. 

Finally as the light of dawn first began to change the 
sky from darkest black to deepest purple, Quello would 
utter a spell and her voice would return. He would 
growl out the same words each time, 'Beg me to fuck 
you and make you one with me!'"

"The witch's response was also almost always exactly 
the same words, 'Please fuck me. My body needs you so 
desperately, but I can never be one with you for you 
are evil'."

"Quello would then plunge his massive member into the 
thrashing witch and within a few moments they would 
climax together. Then he would ask her one more time, 
'Will you be one with me?' When she again refused, he 
would tear her apart and consume her bloody flesh. 
Then he would disappear for another 52 years."

"Afterwards, we would always go home and get blind 
drunk trying to get the images of what had occurred 
out of our mind. It was terrifying and terrible and we 
really wanted to end it, but you don't exactly break a 
deal with a devil, even if he is just a minor demon."

She stopped and stared at me, waiting for me to say 
something. I had heard many weird and strange 
delusions, but this was the first time I had ever felt 
a twinge of belief rise within me, and rather than 
turning the narrative toward the basis of her problems 
like I was trained to do, I asked, "What went wrong 
this year?"

She smiled a strange smile at me and answered in an 
impersonation of Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca, "Of 
all the bars in all the towns in all the world, she 
walks into mine." Then she began giggling in that 
strange high-pitched, demented way of someone losing 
control of their mind. She was laughing at a joke that 
only she understood.

After a few moments I seriously considered calling for 
an intern and more meds, but she suddenly stopped, 
looked me directly in the eyes, and calmly asked, "Dr. 
Walters, do you know how many people there are in the 
world?"

"Close to seven billion," I replied.

"So the odds of accidentally finding any one person on 
any one day at any one place anywhere in the world 
would be one in seven billion, right?... ONE in SEVEN 
FUCKING BILLION!" She again started giggling.

Finally she composed herself, paused and looked at me 
with very wide eyes that for some reason reminded me 
of a little child looking at her parents as she told 
them something wonderful or terrible that she had 
done. "But I did it. I picked out that one exactly 
wrong person at exactly the wrong time in exactly the 
right place. I was the one who picked the coven we 
would target and I was the one who picked which of the 
witches of the coven we would capture that night. 

I chose her not because I thought she was the leader, 
but because she was the most beautiful of them all - 
possibly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. 
Her hair was perfect. Her body was perfect. Even her 
voice was perfect as they chanted and sang beneath the 
night sky. I chose her because I knew that she would 
be the perfect offering to The One whom we must obey."

"Everything went exactly as we had planned. The spell 
was cast. She was captured. She was bound to the altar 
and we each had our turn in her mouth and her ass and 
her cunt. Then Quello appeared. He did his bit with 
his tongue until she was writhing and panting like she 
was in heat, then he released her from the binding 
spell and stated his demand, "Beg me to fuck you and 
make you one with me!"

"To our surprise, she answered him in Italian. I don't 
speak Italian, but for some reason, I could understand 
her. She said, 'Quello Caduto, I refused you a 
thousand years ago because you were obviously 
misdirected and I knew that in your deepest heart you 
were evil. Your heart has not changed, and you are 
still just as misdirected. What you seek, you do not 
need. What you need, you do not seek.'"

"Quello roared at the sky as she continued, 'You seek 
a pure woman to defile and it does not fulfill you... 
because it can't. You do not need a pure woman who has 
been defiled. What you need - and what will finally 
satisfy you - is a woman who is already truly defiled 
to the depth of her being. You need a truly defiled 
heart. Such a defiled one will give you what you seek, 
which is not love, but obedience and raw, powerful 
sex.'"

"Then she faded away. I don't mean that she escaped, 
she just faded out like a cheesy special effect on a 
cheap TV show. Her body got less and less distinct 
until it began to shimmer like a transparent soap 
bubble in body form. Just before she faded completely 
away, she turned to me and said, 'You chose me, so now 
I chose you. You are already defiled to the depth of 
your being. Perhaps in your new form your heart will 
be defiled enough for Quello to accept your body as 
his eternal mate.'"

"Then she looked into Quello's eyes and said softly, 
'I would have loved you if your heart could have 
changed. I said no to you because I knew that you 
could not change what your heart was created to be, 
but I do still care for you. She is my gift to you. 
Once she is fully defiled, use her well and wisely and 
you may find happiness.' Then she was gone."

"Everyone was staring at me and I looked back at them 
and started to ask, 'What is going on?' But it wasn't 
my voice. It was much too high pitched to be my voice. 
That's when I looked at myself and realized that I was 
no longer me. It was no longer my body. It was this 
body. I was a woman... a beautiful woman... standing 
naked in front of my partners."

"Immediately after that, I found myself screaming like 
the scared woman I now was as Quello roared out his 
anger and leapt from the altar. I thought he was 
coming for me, but instead, he tore the others apart 
in just moments and left me standing there covered in 
blood. Then he spoke in a low growling voice. 'On the 
altar! Now!' I ran over to the altar and climbed up to 
where the witch had been lying a few moments before."

"'On your back! Spread your legs!' I did."

"Then I felt Quello's tongue beginning to move across 
my body. He licked my body from my toes to the top of 
my head. The sensations were overwhelming. I never 
knew what a woman felt as her body was stimulated, so 
even normal sex probably would have been overwhelming, 
but the sensations that Quello's tongue created in me 
were way beyond normal. I had watched otherwise pure 
witches beg to be fucked by him after he had 
stimulated them with his tongue, and I was much less 
than pure. I was thrashing on the altar begging him to 
fuck me long before he was finished with what he 
wanted to do."

She giggled slightly and looked me in the eyes. "He 
did, you know." Another giggle, "He fucked me. And it 
was wonderful. I orgasmed at least a dozen times while 
he fucked me. When he finished, I knew he was going to 
ask me the question and I knew that I was going to say 
yes."

She looked down and her shoulders slumped. "But he 
didn't ask. Instead he said, 'Good fuck, but not 
defiled enough.' Then he picked me up and set me on my 
feet."

Her voice took on a lower, gravely pitch as she 
continued, "He said to me, 'I will let you live and 
you will be my sexual release each time I return, but 
you must willingly defile yourself completely for me. 
If you fuck one thousand men by midnight on what you 
call Halloween, you will prove that you are truly the 
Defiled One and you will live. If not, I will have my 
post-fuck snack a little late.'"

She looked at me with desperation painted across her 
face and said, "Doctor, I have only 23 minutes left. 
You have to fuck me now. I will make the cameras not 
work while you do it like I did for that young doctor. 
You must do it. You are a doctor. It will save my 
life..." She giggled again... "And change your life 
forever."

I knew what I should do. I should have called for an 
orderly or an intern or a nurse and administered 
additional meds to sedate a patient in the depths of a 
dangerous delusion. But instead, I began unbuckling my 
belt as she slid down onto her back on the cot. I 
looked up at the cameras. The red recording lights 
were now off and both cameras were swiveled over 
toward the door. I climbed up onto the cot and 
positioned myself between her legs.

My grandfather used to joke about "snapping turtle 
pussy" that would nearly bite your prick off because 
it would clamp down so tightly as you entered. He 
would also talk about "milking machine pussy" that 
would milk you dry all the way down to the bottom of 
your balls. The old man would have loved her. She was 
a snapping turtle milking machine. I had never felt 
anything like it. She was the most purely sexual woman 
I had ever fucked. It wasn't making love. It wasn't 
sex. It was pure, animal fucking.

As we finished, a low guttural voice came from the 
corner of the room. The shadows there thickened 
slightly in an almost human form that stepped slowly 
out into the room. 

"I didn't think you would be able to do it. One 
thousand men in seventeen days. You are truly a 
totally defiled woman and worthy of me. I will enjoy 
coming back to fuck you once each completion of the 
cycle of the moon and sun. In the meantime, you will 
not age, and you will continue to have your knowledge 
of business. 

"The only requirement is that you remain defiled. You 
must have sex in every possible way every year at this 
time. I will not require that you fuck one thousand 
men each year, but you must give yourself totally in 
all ways to as many men as possible on this night each 
year in the years between my visits."

He then turned to me. His eyes were glowing as he 
looked at me and said, "And you, doctor, I will allow 
you to be her earthly mate. Are you willing to be 
consort to my bride? If you say 'Yes,' you will not 
age; you will have the same ability that she has to 
know what businesses will succeed, and you will be 
able to fully enjoy her in all ways at all times. 
There is only one caveat to our agreement. You must 
insure that she totally defiles herself each year on 
this day so that she is kept impure for my return."

"What about the deaths of the twelve? What about the 
fact that she... he is still listed as missing?"

"Taken care of," he growled, "Yes or no?"

As I walked back to the ward desk, I noticed that the 
monitors were starting to come back on for the video 
surveillance of room six. I could see in the monitors 
that Harriet was now wearing a robe and sitting in the 
chair next to her bed. Larry was looking up at me with 
a questioning look.

"Didn't they teach you about severe fugue states 
brought on by extreme mental trauma? Once I got her to 
talk about what happened to her, she snapped out of 
it. She and her brother had kept her existence hidden 
so that she could operate openly and not be connected 
to their group. She had found what they thought was 
the ultimate energy source for cars. If it worked, 
they would make billions on it. 

"The inventor and Harold were demonstrating it for his 
cohorts in a secret place in the woods when it blew 
up. Her brother and the scientist were effectively 
vaporized, and everyone else was blown to bits. 
Harriet was far enough away that she survived, but her 
clothing was blown off by the shock wave and her mind 
was overwhelmed by the images of carnage... and the 
guilt that she had brought the device to her brother's 
attention. Her DNA was on the altar because she burned 
herself looking for her brother. 

"The sexual frenzy was probably some type of self-
punishment brought up from the depths of her fractured 
mind and the fact that she found herself naked in 
public. If they re-test that stone platform they 
thought was an altar, they will hopefully find some 
traces of her brother in the ashes."

Larry looked at me a bit sheepishly and turned 
slightly red. "Don't worry about the fact that you 
reinforced her delusion. I told you to do whatever you 
needed to do and it did calm her down enough so that 
she was able to talk to me. Just be very, very careful 
with that type of therapy in the future."

He grinned slightly and I added, "Oh, and don't bother 
calling me with anything else tonight. I just called 
Dr. Hudson and told her that I quit as of right now. 

She objected, but I told her that it was because I 
came in a little intoxicated and ended up having 
'therapeutic sex' with a delusional patient in order 
to bring her out of a fugue state. I assured her that 
I had erased the surveillance tapes of the incident, 
but sooner or later someone was going to talk to the 
press about it because the patient was Harold 
Aldrige's sister, Harriet."

Larry swallowed and tried to suppress a smile that was 
more of a smirk, "What'd she say?"

I laughed and smirked back at him. "She gasped and 
said that she would work something out and to leave a 
written resignation on her desk. That's a nice way of 
saying, 'Don't let the door hit you in the ass on your 
way out.' I am going to take Harriet over to the 
medical ward and have her checked out for physical 
injuries and then I am taking her home with me."

Harriet came out of Room 6 wearing a brief, hospital-
issue robe. Larry's eyes slowly traveled from her bare 
feet to her... well, he didn't seem to be able to get 
above the ample cleavage she was displaying.

I snapped my fingers several times in front of his 
face to bring him out of his trance. "One final word 
of advice from your former supervisor, Larry. On the 
first of January, you put in a written vacation 
request for Halloween week of next year... and every 
year from now on. Harriet and I are going to be 
throwing a Halloween party next year that you really 
won't want to miss."

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way, shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any
of the scenarios in this story should seriously 
consider seeking professional help.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 79