Sex Practice (14 page)

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Authors: Ray Gordon

Tags: #extreme sex, #ray gordon, #erotic excess

BOOK: Sex Practice
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"According to
your husband, things aren't too good on the sexual front?"

"The things he
wants me to do are... are disgusting! He's abnormal, that's what he
is! How could he sink so low? I've always led a decent life,
whatever have I done to deserve a sex maniac like him?"

"Perhaps you
were a wanton hussy in a past life?"

"I have it on
good authority that I was an Egyptian monk."

"Oh! Has your
husband ever felt a need to turn to the church?"

"Why do you
ask that?"

"Well, that
would explain his sexual deviancy. Sexually deviant men tend to
congregate in churches. Was his father a Catholic priest?"

"No, he was a
drunkard! I have never met anyone as disgusting as my husband. The
things he asks me to do are vile, obscene, debased! Would you eat
bananas from your wife's... from her bottom? Apart from disgusting,
the act is illegal!"

"It's not
illegal."

"Well, it
should be! What sort of government condones such a disgraceful act?
We should have a dictator running the country, not a wimp! Would
you eat bananas from..."

"Well, I don't
have a wife so..."

"Any woman's
bottom, then?"

Not from yours, that's for sure
.
"Er... I don't like bananas so the question doesn't apply. What
else does he demand of you?"

"He wants me
to dress up in clothes that only cheap prostitutes would be seen
in!"

"Cheap
prostitutes? Was his mother a prostitute?"

"I don't know
- why?"

"I'm wondering
what the reason is for him wanting to portray you as a cheap
prostitute. He obviously has leanings towards streetwalkers. In my
considered and unprofessional opinion, I'd say that he was
breast-fed for far too long - possible until he was fifteen or
sixteen."

"He's always
been unhealthily close to his mother."

"I thought as
much. Describe the clothing he wishes you to wear."

"He bought me
a red leather body suit with holes in it. Disgusting, that's what
it is!"

"It has holes
in it?"

"Yes, holes for my breasts and a hole... well, you
know,
down there
."

God forbid! What a sight!
"Er... some
men find dressing their women in kinky clothes sexually
exciting."

"What would
the neighbours say?"

"They wouldn't
know."

"They might
knock on the door for a cup of sugar."

"Don't answer
the door."

"A bag of
flour, even."

"Ignore the
doorbell."

"I always
answer the door, it's mannerly."

"Do you have a
peephole bar, Mrs Crotcher?"

"What's
that?"

"A bra with
holes for your..."

"All my bras
are in pristine condition. Holes? If my bras were holed, I'd bin
them!"

"Yes, quite.
Do you know what your nipples are for?"

"Yes,
they're... they're for..."

"Sucking."

"Well, yes.
They're for feeding..."

"Exactly. Now,
if you were to wear a peephole bar, your husband would feel free to
suck your..."

"I'm not
letting him suck my nipples, it's not natural! He might act like a
child, but he's not a baby!"

"But that's
what your nipples are for. You see, as your husband was breast-fed
until his mid-teens, it's left him with a craving for the mammary
teat. Psychologically, he needs the motherly bonding that
breast-feeding offers. The poor man's lost in a mammary void. Let's
talk about masturbation."

"Why?"

Because I like talking about masturbation
. "Because I need to discover more about your sexuality. At
what age did your pubic hair begin to grow?"

"What's that
got to do with masturbation?"

"Everything!
When did you first shave your vulval hair?"

"I have never
shaved my..."

"How old were
you when you first discovered your clitoris?"

"I didn't
discover it!"

"At what age
did you first need to wear a bra?"

"I bought my
first bra when I was... Doctor Lickman, it's my husband who needs
help, not me!"

"I know. I'm
helping him through you - it's a new and fascinating psychological
approach. You see, if your husband is mentally ill, then I can help
him by talking to you."

"I don't
understand that."

"Is there
anything about him that you find disturbing?"

"Actually,
there is something dreadful about him - but I could never bring
myself to discuss it."

"Give me a
clue."

"I can't, it
pains me."

"Just a little
clue."

"No. I'll tell
you this, though - the other day he asked me to... to take my
clothes off and sit on his face!"

"Well, that's
not such an unusual request for a man to make of his wife."

"It's
dreadful! What does he think he is, a chair?"

"No, he
wanted... let's talk about lesbians."

"Why? It's not
decent!"

"No reason, I
just thought we might chat about them. How do you feel about
lesbians, Mrs Crotcher?"

"They disgust
me!"

"You've never
had tenancies?"

"What sort of
tenancies?"

"Lesbian
yearnings, leanings towards your own sex."

"Certainly
not! I'm clean-living, brought up properly. I said to Father Godly
only last week..."

"You go to
church?"

"Regular as
clockwork."

"Confession?"

"Once a
week."

"What do you
confess to?"

"I can't tell
you."

"You
must!"

"You're not a
priest, so I can't."

"Don't reveal
this sensitive information to anyone, Mrs Crotcher, but I am a
priest. I'm a Roman Catholic priest. I was ordained only last week
by Father Pederast at the Church of the Unchaste Temptress."

"But, you're a
doctor!"

"And a priest.
To which dreadful sin did you confess?"

"I'm sorry,
father, I didn't know that you were a priest."

"That's all
right. Anyone could make the same mistake, seeing as I'm not
wearing my dog collar. Without a dog collar, the profession of a
priest is indeterminable. I've often been mistaken for an
electrician, although I can't think why."

"It might be
your nose, you have an electrician's nose."

"Possibly.
Being a priest comes in very useful - I confess my sins to
myself."

"That must
make quite a saving on travelling expenses to the church."

"Indeed, it
does. It costs a small fortune by bus these days. Now, imagine that
we're in the confessional."

"Forgive me,
father, for I have sinned."

"What was the
nature of your sin, my child?"

"I've had
wicked thoughts. I've thought how nice it would be if my husband
died."

"That's
perfectly normal for a woman in your difficult position. Have you
considered murder?"

"Well... yes,
I have."

"I wouldn't
recommend it, it's a crime that carries a heavy punishment. Divorce
would be more appropriate, it has the added benefit of legality. I
can put you in touch with a very good solicitor."

"I'd be
lonely."

"No, he's a
nice man - warm, approachable."

"Who?"

"The
solicitor."

"No, I meant
that I'd be lonely without my husband."

"You'd be
happy. What other dreadful sins have you committed?"

"I've spied on
my husband."

"Spied on him?
Why?"

"He... he's in
desperate need of psychiatric help, Doctor. He has a blow up
doll."

"Really? What
does he do with the doll?"

"He blows it
up."

"How peculiar!
What does he do then?"

"He... I can't
bring myself to talk of the dreadful act."

"You must!
Remember, I'm a priest. We've been brought together by God so that
I may guide you in your time of sexual confusion. What does he do
with the doll?"

"He... he has
sex with it."

"Is this the
dreadful thing you couldn't bring yourself to discuss earlier?"

"Yes, it
is."

"This blow up
doll... enlighten me as to the sordid details, Mrs Crotcher."

"He has sex
with its mouth."

"Good
grief!"

"The doll
buzzes loudly, although I don't know why. And it talks in an awful
American voice."

"What does it
say?"

"I couldn't
bring myself to repeat the doll's words!"

"Write the
words down for me."

"No, certainly
not!"

The door
bursting open and hitting the wall with a loud thud, Larry looked
up in surprise. "It's courteous to knock, Monica!" he reprimanded
the flustered woman as she stormed into the room.

"There's a
disgusting sexual act taking place in the waiting room, Doctor. I
felt it my duty to inform you without undue delay."

"A disgusting
sexual act? Who's involved in this alleged act of sexual
filth?"

"Mr Crotcher
and Brigit Biways."

"My husband?"
Mrs Crotcher screamed hysterically, leaping to her feet. "I'll
murder him!"

As the woman
rushed out of the room and stormed down the hall, Larry held his
hand to his head and sighed. "Monica, don't you have any tact at
all? You've just destroyed a marriage!"

"Me?"

"Yes, you and
your tactless, incriminating mindless words!"

"The woman has
a right to know of her husband's debased infidelity."

"No, she
doesn't! Women don't have rights! Those bloody suffragettes have
ruined mankind! I hope your conscience stabs you to death!"

"But I... I
thought it best..."

"What was
going on in the waiting room?"

"Brigit was on
her knees with Mr Crotcher's... with his penis in her mouth. I have
never witnessed such a vile and degrading act! Has the girl no
decency, no respect for her femininity?"

"Of course she
has! She's using her body, her mouth, to pleasure one of our valued
clients. It's a woman's place to do such things to men."

"It's not
their place! I've never done such a disgraceful..."

"No, I don't
suppose you have! I hope she intends to charge for the service. She
knows the rules concerning moonlighting."

"You'll sack
her, of course."

"Sack the
girl? Why sack her?"

"Because of
her disgusting, unprofessional behaviour."

"She acted in
a professional and responsible manner. Mr Crotcher was in dire need
of sexual relief, and Brigit relieved him."

"The whole
episode is..."

"Remember that
I've doubled your salary, Monica!" Larry grinned as the phone rang.
"You'd better go and see what's going on."

Watching the
distraught woman leave the room and close the door, Larry grabbed
the phone. "Doctor Larry Lickman," he said authoritatively.

"Ah, Doctor
Lickman - Gina Cology here."

"And how are
you, Gina? Clients dropping like flies, are they?"

"I have more
than enough clients, thank you."

"How's your
clitoris these days?"

"Please, try
not to be disgusting!"

"Are you still
masturbating heavily?"

"I'm calling
because I have..."

"Do you like
sucking your nipples while you masturbate with a cucumber?"

"I'm calling
because I have a girl here, an ex-client of yours."

"Oh, who's
that?"

"Her name's
Jane. She's told me about your methods, your disgusting..."

"Jane who? I
don't have a client called Jane."

"I know you
haven't, she's now my client! Her name's Jane Churcher. She told me
that you and your secretary exposed yourselves to her. She said
that you ordered her to suck your penis and lick your secretary's
vagina."

"Good grief!
She must be mentally unhinged, deranged, even!"

"She's
perfectly sane, and she's willing to testify. I also have some
incriminating photographs here - photographs of you sexually
abusing a client."

"Are you mad?
Has your brain suffered a seizure? You really must stop
masturbating, it's destroying you! What's it like being a common
slut, Gina?"

"Do you have
to resort to personal abuse?"

"No, but I
enjoy it!"

"You think
you're funny, don't you? Well, this will wipe the smirk off your
face! I sent a friend of mine along to see you."

"Good God, you
have a friend? Well, this is unbelievable news!"

"She used a
pseudonym, Mrs Cravings."

Bloody
hell!

"Being the
fool that you are, you believed her story about her husband and the
Swedish au pair. You'll be pleased to know that the photographs
have come out very well. I now have all the evidence I need to have
your so-called sex therapy practice closed down!"

"The pictures
don't show my face, so you can't..."

"They show
your examination room, and your... the mole you have is evidence
enough. I do believe that I've won, don't you?"

"No, no way!
There's nothing you can do to prove that it's me in the
photographs. It could by anyone. It might even be the pope."

"Does the pope
visit your debased establishment to have sex with your
clients?"

"Not as far as
I know."

"Then, how
could it possibly be him?"

"He might have
called without my having knowledge of his visit. I'll check the
appointments book. What's his name, do you know?"

"Don't be
ridiculous! We'll see what the BMA have to say about this."

"Would you
like me to come over to your floundering clinic and spunk down your
throat, Gina?"

"Be as crude
and vulgar as you wish, you're about to be closed down!"

"I'll cut your
fucking nipples off and stuff them up your cunt when I next..."

"Goodbye,
Doctor Lickman. And good riddance!"

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