The moment Rory Morrigan walked into my office, Lil' **** began chattering. Initially, he was telling me what I had already visually ascertained - she was the most beautiful creature I'd ever laid eyes on. Shiny, coal black, shoulder length hair - sparkling emerald green eyes - and a body that could easily grace the cover of any number of model magazines and every single "men's magazine" ever published.
According to Lil' ****, she'd have had to shed her clothes for those mags. As if I didn't already know that!
Lil' **** lives inside my head. Oh, I know what you're thinking; he's a euphemism for my ego or my id, whichever was the current psychological trend of the moment. For many years, most of my life actually, I believed that to be true. In fact, he never had a name until...oh, about ten years ago when I realized that his voice was separate and distinct from my id or ego, whichever was the... (well, I've been over that already).
Why would I give myself another name? I wouldn't certainly, had he been my ego or id. He wasn't. So, I had to name him. Simple, really.
Admittedly Lil' **** (Lil' being a colloquial abbreviation of "little") is an unusual (to say the least) name for a separate being living in my body; especially for someone of my education and stature in the parapsychological world.
It came about after a three day marathon sex affair with a lovely Lass while studying for my second PhD at Glasgow University. She'd awoken after the latest of our forty minute naps, taken in between hour long bouts of some of the most inventive, depraved and wholly exciting sexual fulfillment efforts I'd ever enjoyed to say, "God, my mouth feels like someone crawled inside and **** in it!"
To which I'd answered, "Yeah, the little **** found his way into mine, as well."
Simultaneously, we'd jumped from the bed and, in the bathroom, eliminated the little **** from our mouths with assorted toothpastes and mouthwashes...the Lassie deciding that her mouthwash of choice was best taken by kneeling before me and...
Anyway, the name for the voice that had been inside my head, separate and distinct from my ego or id, whichever....uh...well...was born; and from that day forth, I simply referred to the voice as "Lil'
****".
Miss Morrigan, completely aware of my ogling, but not Lil'
****'s panting, flashed those beautiful eyes and smiled as she took a seat in the overstuffed, leather chair in front of my desk. I shook her hand, of course, bent over so as not to give away everything and, as soon as she was seated; I scooted around my desk, still in a bent position to quickly hide my potential embarrassment behind my desk.
She demonstrated a very unique way of crossing her legs. First, she opened her knees quite widely and then, slowly lifted her left up and across her right knee.
"Holy Manoly!" Lil'
**** exclaimed. "Did you see that? No panties!"
I did, indeed, see... and the brief sight of her pubis and perfectly trimmed heart caused a triple beat on my own heart.
I leaned forward, not for a better look, but to rest my chin on my hand and insure my jaw hadn't dropped to the top of my desk. It took me a second or two to find my voice. "Miss..." I glanced down at the appointment notation, "Morrigan. How can I help you?"
"Dr. Gavin, I have a problem."
"I can't imagine what that might be, Miss Morrigan, please enlighten me."
"Please call me Rory. Everyone does."
I smiled and Lil'
**** said, "Rory, smory, call her Goddess!" I knew she couldn't hear Lil'
****, but instead of taking a chance of saying the wrong thing, I merely nodded.
"Before I begin my tale, Doctor, I would like to insure that what I am about to tell you will remain between the two of us...doctor - patient confidentiality."
I leaned back in my chair and studied her for a moment. "I am not a clinical psychologist or psychiatrist, Miss...Rory. However, I can assure that the confidentiality laws will be assumed to have the same doctor-patient applicancy."
"Thank you. I'm not sure where to begin...."
"The beginning is usually the best place," I said.
"How about your sex life?" Lil'
**** muttered. I ignored him and leaned forward at the same time she did. I now had a close up view down her blouse. She wasn't wearing a brassiere. Her breasts were milk white and firm. I sucked in a deep breath and sat back, my eyes going to my hands, folded atop the desk.
"Yes, the beginning. Well, doctor, it began with sex."
I could have sworn I felt Lil'
**** do a little tap dance inside my head. I clearly heard his, "Yeehaw!"
"Sex? Uh...Miss...uh, Rory...perhaps I'm not the person you should be talking to. Perhaps you need to see a regular psychiatrist that specializes in...uh...sexual matters. You see I'm a para...."
"I know," she breathed. "You're a parapsychologist. You deal in the unknown, the strange, the supernatural. That's what I need, doctor."
"I'm afraid I don't under..."
"Shut up! Let her talk, for chrissakes!" Well, Lil'
**** was certainly willing to hear her out. I sighed and nodded for her to continue.
"For the past six months, doctor, every sex partner I've had has..." She bent over, covering her face with her hands. Her shoulders shivered as if she were crying. I started to get up and offer her...something...condolences, a handkerchief...something, but she suddenly sat back up and stared me directly in the eyes. Hers were wide as if in amazement, no tears.
"Every lover I've had for the last six months has....died."
I swallowed hard. "How many lovers would this be...uh...Rory?"
"Holy Manoly...she
**** 'em to death. Man, this woman is f...."
I've learned over the years of a way to shut Lil'
**** up. I simply squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head vigorously left and right several times. Without thinking of the effect this would have on Rory, I shut up Lil'
****.
"Doctor...are you okay? I mean it looked for a second there like you were having a seizure or something!"
"No...no, I'm fine. It's just a little....uh...well...no, I'm quite fine. How did these men...they were men, I assume...?" Damn, what an asinine thing to say!
She blushed a little and looking down at the floor, softly answered, "No, doctor, they weren't all men. Although all by three were." She raised her eyes back to mine. I gulped - again.
"Well...uh...that's not really the point is it? So, how did these men die?"
"That's the problem. I don't really know. We make love and then, the next morning when I wake up..they're...they're lying next to me and they're...."
I leaned far across the desk waiting for her to continue; waiting for her to tell me what I already feared she was going to say.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. Her eyes would not meet mine. She said, "They're all dried out. Husks. Like everything has been sucked out of them. It's....it's so...horrible!" Again she put her face in her hands and this time, the shuddering of her shoulders indicated tears were flowing.
"Son of a
**** bitch! We got us a real live, honest to goddess SUCCUBUS here!" I was terribly afraid that Lil'
**** was right!
'The Adventures of Lil' **** and Me, Doctor Michael Gavin' statistics: (click to read)
