Sex Practice (16 page)

"Doctor
Lickman!" Monica bellowed, hammering on the door. "Doctor Lickman,
what's going on in there?"

"Nothing!"

"Mr Ingram
Ravenhugh is here!"

"All right,
Monica, I'm coming! Ah, I'm coming!"

Making his
last thrusts, Larry filled the girl's convulsing vagina with his
spunk as her own orgasm erupted in her pulsating clitoris.
Massaging between the girl's swollen pussy lips and finger-fucking
her bottom-hole faster, Brigit sustained her incredible pleasure.
Her body trembling as electrifying orgasmic shockwaves gripped her,
Lily tossed her head, her eyes rolling, her mouth gasping as her
pleasure increased. On and on her orgasm rolled, rocking her body,
taking her higher to her sexual paradise until she gently floated
down, exhausted, serene - satisfied.

"You liked
that, didn't you?" Brigit asked, gently massaging Lily's clitoris
as she slipped her finger out of her friend's hot anal tube.

"God, yes!"
Lily gasped, her cunt spasming as Larry's penis slid out. "God, it
was heavenly!"

"I'd better go
and see this Ravenhugh man!" Larry sighed despondently, climbing
off the couch and zipping his trousers. "I'll leave you horny
lesbians to enjoy yourselves. Lock the door after me."

Entering his
consulting room, his face flushed, Larry smiled at the middle-aged,
balding man. "Good afternoon, I'm Doctor Lickman."

"Ravenhugh,
Ingram Ravenhugh," the man replied, shaking Larry's hand. "I'm from
the Inland Revenue."

Fuck it
. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr
Revenue... Ravenhugh. Please, take a seat," Larry invited, sitting
in his swivel chair.

"Thank you.
Now then, Doctor Lickman, according to our records we've only
received fifty pounds from you in the last six years."

"As much as
that!" Larry gasped, surprised. "That's great! Obviously, I'm in
line for a tax rebate!"

"A rebate?
Hardly! Apart from income tax, you've not paid national insurance
contributions for the last six years!"

"National
insurance contributions? Contributions are usually voluntary!
National insurance robbery, more like!"

"Why haven't
you paid? When did you start this business?"

"Six years
ago, obviously."

"Why
obviously?"

"That's when I
started the business of not paying my contributions."

"No, I meant,
when did you start practising?"

"Practising
what? I don't practice anything. Well, apart from..."

"No! This
place, your clinic - when did you open it?"

"Nine o'clock
this morning."

"You opened at
nine this morning?"

"Yes, that's
right."

"I find that
difficult to believe, Doctor Lickman. In fact, I find it impossible
to believe!"

"Ask my staff
if you want proof. I always open up at nine o'clock. I've only ever
been late once, and that was because my car..."

"Good God!
Let's try to communicate, please, Doctor Lickman!"

"My
communication skills are admirable."

"I'm glad to
hear it! I'll try again - when did you first move into this
building and open your clinic?"

"Oh, I see!
Er... quite some time ago."

"Yes, but
when?"

"Let me see.
Er... three years ago, Monica joined the practice. Brigit... she
joined last year. Lily's only been with us for a short time so...
six months ago."

"If one member
of your staff joined the practice three years ago, how could you
have opened the business six months ago?"

"I
didn't."

"You just said
that you did!"

"No, I didn't!
I said - six months ago. I didn't say that I'd started the business
six months ago. I was recalling the time when the decorators moved
in to brighten up the reception area, which was six months ago.
They did a good job. Do you know, they..."

"God help me!
All right, Doctor Lickman, we'll come back to that later. Let's try
another one - what was your turn over during the year April
ninety-five to ninety-six?"

"Which turn
over?"

"How much
money did your business take?"

"A fortune!
Thousands and thousands of pounds, in fact!"

"Ah, now we're
getting somewhere! Can you give me a rough idea as to the
amount?"

"Yes, about
eighty-thousand."

"In one
year?"

"No, it took
about three months."

"You took that
amount in three months?"

"No, I spent
that amount in three months."

"What?"

"You asked me
how much the business took. It took about eighty-thousand pounds to
set it up. There was the plumber, the electrician... the building
alone cost a small fortune!"

"Doctor
Lickman, I don't believe you to be mentally insane."

"Neither do
I."

"Will you tell
me, in plain English, how much your business made between April
ninety-five and April ninety-six?"

"I couldn't
tell you in any other language, I'm afraid!"

"Good, English
it is, then."

"I know a
little French."

"English will
be fine. How much did your business make?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"That's right,
it was a terrible year - no one had any sexual or marital problems
at all! I blame the government."

"How did you
pay your staff?"

"Er... I
didn't. I must say that they were very understanding."

"You do
realize that I'll check?"

"Oh, well...
we might have made a little money."

"Ah, right!
How much?"

"I can't
remember."

"OK, Doctor
Lickman, we'll do it your way. Write down the name and address of
your bank and your account numbers."

Opening the
desk drawer, Larry pulled out his cheque book and wrote the
information on the back of an envelope, sighing as he passed the
details to Ravenhugh. What with Fullcrack, Gina Cology, Venereal,
and now Ravenhugh, things weren't looking good! Deciding that his
only option was to close the business and do a runner, he thought
of the bank account he opened in a false name. At least he'd have
plenty of cash, he mused.

"You do
realize that you've defrauded the crown?" Ravenhugh asked, slipping
the envelope into his briefcase.

"The crown?"
Larry echoed.

"The Queen,
you've defrauded her."

"I haven't
touched her!"

"All her
subjects pay tax, Doctor Lickman, and..."

"I pay tax,
too! She's had fifty pounds from me, you said so yourself! And I
pay tax on alcohol and..."

"I'm talking
about income tax, not Customs and Excise duty."

"It's not
fair! I do all the work, put in long hours, while the Queen's
sitting pretty in her palace - and she wants my hard-earned
money!"

"That's the
way of the land."

"Well, it's
high time someone changed the way of the land!"

"You're not
suggesting a revolution, Doctor Lickman?"

"Dammed right,
I am! Who benefits from VAT? Tell me that!"

"That's not my
department."

"Income tax,
value added tax, road tax, council tax, alcohol and tobacco tax,
tin tacks, this tax, that tax... God, it's no wonder everyone's
broke! Where the hell does all this money go to? Who's creaming it
all off?"

"The
government have to..."

"Bollocks to
the government! It's tyranny!"

"For example,
distribution of wealth..."

"Communism,
you mean? Take money from the masses and distribute it among the
chosen few, the elite."

"No, it's not
like that!"

"That's
exactly how it is! What right have you to go poking around my bank
account?"

"Every right.
I'll be checking the transactions because..."

"Give me the
details of your bank account."

"I can't do
that, Doctor Lickman!"

"As I thought,
one rule for me, and another for you! I'll bet you're not allowed
to look at the Queen's bank balance."

"Even the
Queen pays tax."

"Yes, she pays
it out with one hand, and then grabs it back with the other!"

"This is
getting us nowhere, Doctor Lickman. I'll be in touch with you
when..."

"I might take
to robbing building societies and stealing cars."

"You can't do
that!"

"Why not?
What's the penalty? I'll tell you what it is - sent on holiday, on
safari!"

"You'd go to
prison!"

"No, that's
not the way it works, Mr Ravenhugh. I've seen it in the papers,
villains are sent on holiday at the tax payers expense. Imagine,
five social workers to look after me, no money worries, good food,
holidays aboard... yes, I might well nick a few cars!"

"I'll be in
touch, Doctor Lickman," Ravenhugh said, glancing over his shoulder
as he left the room and walked down the hall.

"I'll look forward to it!" Larry called from his consulting
room doorway.
Fuck off!

Flopping into
his chair, he held his head in his hands, wondering how to break
the sad news to the staff. He'd miss the clients, he reflected.
God, and all those sixth form girls with their tight cunts and firm
tits. "Oh well, time to hit the bottle," he sighed, taking a full
bottle of scotch from the desk drawer.

What with
Ingram Ravenhugh on Larry's back, things were looking pretty grim.
He'd heard nothing from the Revenue for several days, but he knew
that by now they'd have investigated him, his bank account. Gina
Cology had kept a low profile, even though she had photographic
evidence of Larry's lewd behaviour. What was the bitch planning? he
wondered, pouring himself a large scotch and resting his elbows on
his desk. And why hadn't he heard from Fullcrack?

Responding to
a knock on the door, Larry lifted his head and smiled as Brigit
showed a young nun into the room. "This is Sister Mary," Brigit
introduced her.

"I'm sorry we
weren't able to fit you in earlier, Sister," Larry smiled, rising
to his feet as she seated herself opposite him. "For the last few
days I've been inundated with the convent sixth formers. I still
have a couple of dozen to... to examine."

"That's all
right," she replied softly, her smiling face framed by a band of
crisp white linen. "I'm just pleased to be here, I've been so
worried about my health."

Sitting down
and slipping the bottle of scotch into the desk drawer, Larry gazed
into the nun's eyes. "The Reverend Mother said that you suffer from
dizziness," he began, wondering whether she'd ever had the pleasure
of a hard cock spunking up her wet cunt.

"Yes, that's
right. I often feel dizzy in the mornings, after breakfast. My head
spins and I can't keep my balance."

"I see. How
old are you?"

"Twenty-two."

"And how long
have you been having these dizzy spells?"

"Since I was
about sixteen. I've always tried to push the problem to the back of
my mind, but it's been getting worse lately. Have you any idea what
might be causing it?"

"I'll have to
give you a thorough physical examination before we go any further,
Mary. If you'll come along to my examination room, I'll..."

"A physical
examination? But I..."

"Mary, you're
suffering from dizziness which might be a symptom of something
serious. Your dizzy spells might just be the tit of the iceberg.
Unless you allow me to examine you..."

"I'm not sure
whether I should be examined. Nakedness is a sin, you see."

"Why come to
me, a doctor, if you don't want to be examined?"

"I... I don't
know. I suppose I thought you'd be able to tell me what was wrong
without... "

"I'm a doctor,
Mary, not a psychic! Dizziness, particularly in the mornings, and
especially after breakfast, sounds pretty serious to me. Add to
that the fact that these spells began when you were about sixteen
and..."

"Yes but...
you want me to undress? I can't unveil my body, I've taken my vows.
Poverty, chastity and obedience are..."

"When did you
decide to become a nun, Mary?"

"When I was
sixteen."

"What
happened?"

"I received a
message from God. He said that I should remain chaste and the only
way to do that was to become a nun."

"Didn't your
parents mind?"

"Yes, my
father wanted me to have children."

"Why?"

"I don't know,
he's funny like that. Doctor Lickman, I can't allow you to..."

"If you want
me to help you, Mary, I'll have to examine you. I dread to think of
the consequences should this develop into something awful. It might
even lead to a condition known as RNBS."

"Oh, what's
that?"

"Rampant
nymphomaniac behaviour syndrome."

"Rampant
nymphomaniac... I'm feeling dizzy, Doctor, not..."

"Dizziness is
often associated with deep-seated subconscious cravings for a life
of perpetual lesbian-induced orgasms."

"What?"

"Most sexually
unfulfilled nymphomaniac lesbians suffer from dizzy spells,
particularly after breakfast, it's a well-known medical fact."

"But I don't
have lesbian tendencies! And I'm certainly not a nymphomaniac!"

"That's my
point."

"What is?"

"You have
deep-seated lesbian tendencies. Taking your vows, particularly to
remain chaste, has caused suppression of your natural nymphomaniac
desires, leading to post-breakfast dizziness. You really should
take my expert advice and allow me to give you a thorough
examination."

"Oh, well, put
like that, I suppose I have no choice. I can't remove all my
clothes, though. It's against my faith to..."

"Don't worry,
Mary, you may keep your habit on. Follow me and we'll get this over
with as quickly as possible."