Doctor Von Scouries: Case #1 Katherine

by scouries

Copyright© 2010 by scouries

Erotica Sex Story: A sexually confused but beautiful young lawyer seek help from Dr. Von Scouries. Why can't she refuse the advances of big cocked men? Can Andy cure this young woman? And how will his secretary Gaby involve herself in the cure? Sex on the analysts couch? Panties left for waiters as tips? Incest!

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Rape   Heterosexual   True Story   Incest   Brother   Sister   Size   Doctor/Nurse   .

One of my second cousins, Andy Von Scouries, a psychiatrist, is the hero of the following tale (they still use the Von in their branch of the family). When Andy and his sister were down visiting in Florida last winter they told me about some of his most interesting cases. He was hoping I'd write some of them up for him so he also left me a copy of his case notes and some of the video of the various sessions to ensure accuracy. Next time I'm up visiting him he's promised to let me sit in on one of his cases. Which should be interesting! ENJOY!

Session #1

"You're going to like this one Andy," my secretary Gabrielle said with a saucy laugh as she dropped a slim folder onto the desk in front of me and then came around the desk and stood next to me.

"Am I Miss G?" I asked as I flipped open the file with my left hand while moving my right hand onto the plaid miniskirt that hardly covered her still teenaged bum.

"Uh huh," she giggled.

"How come?" I asked idly as I read the notes on the page. The fingers of my right hand slipped under the hem of her skirt and onto her silken skin.

"She's young ... beautiful ... smart ... sexy ... successful ... a redhead, " Gaby answered as she ticked off the reasons on her fingers. I slipped my hand inside her panties and then under until a finger found her moist slit.

"Why's she here then?" I asked as I slid my finger deep inside her.

"Andeeee!" she groaned softly, then added, "her G.P., your pal Doctor Farley, recommended you again."

"Good old Mandy," I said as my mind momentarily flicked to an image of my old med school classmate who was now in general practice in the city and who was quite happy to refer her crazy patients to me.

"That's the third one she's sent us this year, I don't think she knows there are any other psychiatrists in town," Gabrielle added. She was starting to urgently buck her pelvis against my hand.

"I used to help her with her studies when we were back in med school. I'll have to give her a very big Christmas present," I said as thoughts of my student days intruded.

"Hah! Studying! The only thing you two were studying was each others anatomy," my nineteen year old secretary scoffed. "And may I remind you boss, Doctor Farley is now a married woman. You're not allowed to give her any more of your beeeeg gifts doctor," Gabrielle instructed as she ran her palm slowly down and across my crotch.

"Sit on the desk," I ordered as I pulled my finger out of her and moved my chair so that I could position her between my legs.

"Like this?" she asked as she hopped up so her perfectly formed rear end was perched on the edge of my desk and her legs were splayed wide open.

"That'll do fine Miss G.," I agreed as I placed my hands under her skirt and grasped the top of the polka dotted silk boy shorts she was wearing as panties that day. I quickly slipped them down her legs and then brought them to my face.

"You and your panty fetish," she chastened as her fingers found my zipper, "I think you're the one who needs the doctor."

"Do you?" I asked as I stood, my rampant, blood filled cock straining upward through my now open zipper. Gaby's panties were around my head. The trimmed triangle of her blond, almost white, pubic pelt pointed to the spot my cockhead urgently probed for.

Then I pushed the bulblike end of my throbbing penis between her vaginal lips.

"Ohhhhhhhh Andy," she groaned as my thrusting lance punched deep inside her. And as I fucked my nineteen year old secretary I didn't give one thought to the red haired patient who was sitting patiently in my waiting room. Nor could my new patient hear the lusty screams that were soon echoing around my office — an office that had been carefully soundproofed by my grandfather some fifty years earlier.

Her back was lying on the cool, smooth polished wood of my desktop, and her legs were resting on my shoulders while her bum was arching upward off the desk, writhing in the throes of her teenage orgasm, when the first thick, warm stream of my cum splattered angrily into the deepest recess of her womb.

"Little blond slut," I accused as my sperm continued to spit inside her.

"Sicko pervert," she spat back with a laugh as she tightened her legs around my head.

"Hussy! You always get so wet and excited when I get a new patient don't you?"


Ten minutes later my secretary led Katherine Erin O'Malley through my office door and introduced me to my new patient. Gaby hadn't lied! The red haired beauty that stood in front of me was simply stunning. Tall and lithe, the thousand dollar, perfectly tailored business suit she was wearing couldn't hide her womanly curves.

"Katherine with a K," my new patient advised in her first words to me while offering me her hand.

"An Irish beauty worthy of the Hills of Tara and the Kings who roamed there, '" I intoned as I took her hand and raised it to my lips.

"Hardly," she said with raised eyebrows as she reclaimed her hand. Her white, almost translucent skin had no defense against the blush that had spread into her cheeks.

"And from what I understand the up and coming young legal superstar of our fair cities number one law firm," I added as I directed her to a seat in front of my desk and nodded to Gaby, letting her know she was dismissed. The little hussy actually had the temerity to stick out her tongue at me as she backed out the door. Fortunately my new patient missed our little interplay. I then took my place behind my desk. A pen and pad were the only items that marred its smooth surface but I couldn't help but notice the smell of my secretary's sex that still lingered in the air.

"I'm just a hundred hour a week gopher for the partners," Katherine O'Malley answered but I could see she was pleased at my description and the fact that I'd clearly done some research on her in preparation of our meeting. I watched as her eyes traveled around the office slowly, clearly registering every detail. I even noticed when her nose rose just a titch as she inhaled the unexpected odor.

"It's beautiful ... the house I mean ... everything," she said as she indicated her surroundings. "How'd you ever find it let alone afford it?"

"Good genes," I answered solemnly.

"Good genes? I don't--"

"I inherited it," I said as I interrupted her. "Granddad," I added as I saw the question in her eye.

"You own the whole thing, I thought there were other offices or something," she started, the wonder clear in her voice.

"My great grandfather had it built for him in 1911," I supplied. "He was a doctor, so was my grandfather."

"A family of psychiatrists?"

"No," I said with a chuckle, "they were both gynecologists. They worked here downstairs and lived on the top floors."

"Gaaawd, you live here too?"

"All my life," I nodded. I was used to the endless questions about my house. Now designated a protected 'Historical House' by the State's Heritage Commission, it was one of the last great city mansions still standing in the small residential quarter that sat between the University district and the downtown skyscrapers.

For five minutes she peppered me with questions about the house — I let her, I knew she was nervous and wasn't quite ready to spill her guts.

"Well, maybe we should start," I finally said, then lifted my pen from the desk and sat with an expectant look on my face. My patient, nonplussed for just a moment, put her hands in her lap and lowered her eyes. But then almost immediately raised them again and looked up into mine.

"I've been feeling strange ... no, different... ," she started tentatively, clearly unsure of herself. I recognized immediately that this reticence wasn't in Katherine's nature.

"I'm physically well," she added quickly as I started to write on my pad. "Doctor Farley gave me a clean bill of health. I've always been athletic," she added.

"You're a swimmer I'll bet," I said with a touch of admiration in my voice.

"How'd you know? Did Doctor Farley tell you?"

"Just a guess," I answered as I wrote another few words on my pad. I could see her curiosity as she tried to read my scrawl upside down.

"Oh. Anyway, as I was saying, it isn't anything--"

"Could I interrupt you for just one second Miss O'Malley?" I asked, a more formal doctoral tone suddenly in my voice.

"Yes ... of course Doctor, I'm sorry I was just --"

"I wonder if before we got too much into your story you could do me a favor?"

"Of course doctor," my pretty redhead eagerly agreed as she leaned forward in her chair. I could see she was in no particular rush to tell me why she was visiting a psychiatrist.

"Could you take off your clothes for me Miss O'Malley?" I asked softly. Before the true impact of my words hit her I saw her fingers involuntarily dart to the top button of her jacket.

She'd actually undone the button before she realized what I'd asked. "What? Why?" Not answering I decided to wait her out. "Doctor Farley's given me a complete physical examination ... just two weeks ago. That's what I was just saying."

"So you'd prefer not to disrobe?" I asked as I quickly wrote a few more lines on my pad.

"I'd just like to understand why," the young lawyer said as she fidgeted in her seat. "What did you write?" she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"It's not that important for now," I said but in a tone that that conveyed just the opposite. "Feel free to leave your clothes on Katherine," I offered in a friendly tone as I wrote a few more cryptic words on my page and then underlined them twice.

"I didn't think ... I mean ... I thought you'd just have me lie on a couch or something. Like in the movies," she stammered as she indicated the analyst's couch I had off to the right of my desk. "That you'd ask me about my dreams and stuff," the clearly flustered lawyer added.

"Every psychiatrist operates differently," I explained softly, then jotted another quick note on my pad and then flipped over the page.

"If you want me to I will," Katherine offered as she moved forward on her chair. "You're the doctor."

"I don't want you uncomfortable on your first visit Miss O'Malley," I answered as I shifted back to formality. "We'll do something else instead."

"I don't mind, I really don't, really Doctor Von Scouries ... it's just..." I watched her as her voice trailed off in confusion but again I noticed how quickly this extremely bright lawyer recovered. "Was this some kind of psychiatric test? Is that it?" she asked, her sharp mind having decided on the reason for my request.

"We're not in school Miss O'Malley," I chided gently. "We're not giving out gold stars for getting the answers right." I knew as I talked with a one hundred percent certainty that this ambitious girl in front of me had striven all her life to get every gold star she could.

"I'll do it. I want to," Katherine almost shouted as she sprang from her seat.

"NO!" I instructed as she slipped the jacket down her arms. Her breasts were high and pointed under the white silk blouse she'd exposed. I stood up and walked over to her as she stood undecided, the jacket hanging forlornly from her hand.

"Come over here Katherine," I invited as I led her towards the full length mirror that hung on the side wall. "Smile," I instructed once I had her directly facing her image.

"What?"

"Your biggest, friendliest, happiest smile," I instructed.

"What do you mean," she asked, her face torn in confusion. I simply waited until she broke into a grimacing smile and asked, "Like this?"

"No Miss O'Malley," I said, then turned and walked back to my desk. I sat and started to write.

"It's not that easy," I heard and looked up to see an angry patient facing me.

"Could you tell me a joke then Katherine," I asked.

"A joke? What kind of joke?" my now clearly befuddled patient asked.

"Maybe a lawyer joke," I offered tentatively, then added, "I'm sure you must know one of those."

"That's not funny ... if you want me to strip just tell me. You want me to don't you?" my patient demanded as she dropped her jacket on my desk and started to undo the buttons on her blouse. It soon was dropped on top of her jacket. As Miss O'Malley unerringly undid the buttons and zipper on her skirt her angry eyes never left mine.

"I don't suppose you have a hanger," she asked when she'd rid herself of the skirt. I shook my head no.

"It's a beautifully made garment," I said as I ran my fingers over her jacket. "Paris? Haut couture?" I asked admiringly.

"No, its prêt-a-porter. From Bloomingdales. It's a Donna Karen. My underwear too?" she then asked.

"Whatever you're comfortable with Miss O'Malley."

Her bra, part of a matching lace set in lilac, quickly joined the pile on my desk. She had a pair of those high, proud, firm conical breasts that invariably come capped with pink, puffy nipples. And they were just the right size — big enough to fill your hand and big enough so that they jiggled delightfully when she bent to lower her lace trimmed panties. But with no trace of sag!

Her sex, once she'd bared it for me, was covered by a perfect triangle of wispy and curly red hairs that hardly concealed the flowery petals of the lips that advertised her femaleness.

"You don't shave?" I asked after I'd slowly inspected her.

"No," she answered as one of her palms, unbidden by her, slipped down to cover her groin.

"Please sit Katherine," I offered. I then started to write on my pad.

"Should I stay naked?" she asked tentatively as she hovered over the seat.

"Please. If that's alright with you." I could see it wasn't alright with her but she sat anyway, finally crossing her legs after trying a couple of positions. I waited for her to begin.

"I'm not that sick," she finally started. I let her stumble on for a few sentences before I interrupted.

"Before we get too far into your story Miss O'Malley I think maybe it'd be best for me to describe my methods and how I plan to cure you."

"You don't even know what's wrong with me yet," she responded, a touch of lawyerly anger and impatience now having crept into her voice.

"Do you want to be cured Katherine?"

"Well yes ... of course, why do you think I'm here, especially at these prices, it's just that--"

"Do you know Katherine that many of my colleagues never cure their patients? Don't even try."

"They don't?" There's both surprise and interest in her voice now. "Why not?" It was almost a demand.

"Oh they say they're trying but the truth is they hate it when a patient leaves them. They fall in love with their patients."

"They do? All of them? Sexually? But--"

"No not sexually. Although of course some do."

"That would be unethical behavior, actionable in court," my lawyer patient announced.

"Yes it would," I agreed. "But that's not the real reason they never cure anyone. It's because they regard a patient's mental well being as a lifelong job for themselves."

"And you people aren't cheap," my patient, who just happened to be a member of a true bloodsucking, fee charging profession, claimed indignantly. I thought it best not to bring up lawyers fees in response; instead I simply waited for her to continue.

"And you're different?" she finally ventured.

"Seventeen weeks Miss O'Malley."

"Seventeen weeks what?" the clearly confused girl asked.

"I cure all my patients in seventeen weeks."

"All of them?"

"So far," I answered as I tapped the wood surface of my desk for luck.

"But what if they're really, really, really sick?"

"I cure them all Katherine," I insisted.

"Do you make all your patients disrobe for you doctor?" There was a touch of irritation back in Katherine's voice as she spoke.

"Yes."

"Even the men?" she probed.

"I only accept female patients Miss O'Malley."

"Whaaaat? Why?"

"I'm a specialist," I answered. I could see the thoughts and questions swirling behind her eyes. "Men and women have completely different psychiatric problems."

"But--"

"You're a criminal lawyer Katherine, I'm sure you wouldn't try to advise me on real estate law would you?"

"Of course not."

"Well then why would I try to cure a man? Actually, I specialize even further Miss O'Malley."

"You do?"

"Yes ma'am," I said with a smile, "I only treat healthy, beautiful, young women. Between eighteen and thirty only. Period."

"That's crazy! They're probably the people who need the least help."

"Exactly," I said as I beamed at her in approval, then bent and wrote a few more words on my pad. Then looking back over at her I added, "I think we're making some wonderful progress Katherine."

"You don't even know what's wrong with me," she complained but I could see she was reassured by my words.

"We'll have you right as rain soon. By the way, that's one of the main reasons I had you disrobe. Just to make sure you are as advertised without clothes."

"You mean you couldn't tell if I was pretty enough when I was dressed? If I met your standards?"

I chuckled, then answered, "I have a colleague who treated a beautiful young woman for three years before he found out she was a man."

"Three years?"

"So you see Katherine, in one fell swoop I made sure I didn't waste three years of your valuable time and thousands and thousands of dollars of your money. And all it took was two minutes of your time."

"That's crazy," my patient accused.

"I'm not the one seeing a psychiatrist Katherine," I answered with a wide smile.

"You think I'm crazy?"

"Don't worry Katherine, I'll cure you," I promised.

"In seventeen weeks right?" she asked wryly.

"And week ones time is now almost up," I answered as I made a point of checking my watch.

"Already? We didn't make much progress."

"Patience my dear."

"I should get dressed?" I nodded, then sat back in my chair and watched my patient as she dressed. There was no shyness in her actions as she pulled her panties up her legs, no turning away from me as she lifted the bra from the desk and covered the nipples that were arching erect up from the puffiness of her pink aureoles. In fact there was a strutting pride in her as she displayed herself to me. I could smell her excitement.

Finally, dressed, she said, "So that's it?"

"For this week," I agreed and watched as she turned towards the door. "But before you leave, I wonder if I could ask you one more small favor Miss O'Malley?"

"Of course Doctor," she agreed, happy I think that her first session was over but also that I'd given her a definite time frame for her cure. Somehow, even though she'd sat naked in front of me for nearly fifty minutes, I knew she'd found it easier than she'd expected.

"You may find it a strange request," I warned.

There was a smile on her face when she answered, "Why aren't I surprised Doctor?" In just one session I'd relaxed her!

"It is part of your cure," I promised, but then added, "mostly anyway."

"Mostly? Well, what is it Doctor?"

"I was wondering if you'd leave me your panties."

"What! The ones I'm wearing? Why?" she asked. Immediately I could see her mind go into high gear. I simply waited. That was the beauty of having intelligent patients — they always wanted to figure out everything themselves and in doing so opened themselves up to the probing doctor's eyes. "I have an important meeting in thirty minutes ... with some of the senior partners," she said stalling. I said nothing. "Alright, alright, I'll do it. I know these are more of these psychiatric tests aren't they? To see how I react. I'm right aren't I?" she asked as she quickly lifted the skirt of her suit and then slipped the lace trimmed panties from her loins and handed them to me.

"When was the last time you didn't wear any panties at work Katherine?" I probed.

"What? Never I --"

"I'd like you to go to your meeting this afternoon as you are now Katherine. Pantyless. Then next week you can tell me how it felt."

"It's always about sex with you psychiatrists isn't it? I was afraid it would come to this. That's not really my problem you know," she instructed.

"Could you please try it for me? Just once," I asked knowing that sex was the central issue here.

She finally nodded her head yes and turned towards the door.

"Katherine?" I said just as she was about to disappear through the door.

"It's also for me."

"What is?" Confusion spread across her face.

"Can I tell you a secret?" I asked as she stepped back towards me.

"Yes ... of course," she answered eagerly.

"I have a panty fetish."

"A what?" But then she broke into a smile. "You're just trying to test my responses again aren't you? I think I'm starting to understand you doctor," she said, then swept out of the office with a happy smile on her face. I'd definitely earned my five hundred bucks that hour!


"You're disgusting," I heard accused from my doorway two minutes later. I was back sitting at my desk writing up my notes on Katherine's first session. My patient's panties were around my neck.

"I'm the Doctor Miss G, you're simply the pretty receptionist."

"Hah! You had a hard-on almost the whole time that little slut was in here."

"Miss O'Malley is a respected member of the bar my dear."

"She couldn't wait get her clothes off though could she? To show you her red tush," Gabrielle accused as she slowly lifted the hem of her short skirt. "I know where she'd like someone to shove their big member of the bar." My secretary was pantyless!

"Did you get it all on camera?" I asked as I stood.

"Of course I did."

"And what other appointments do I have this afternoon?" I asked as I undid my belt.

"None doctor," Gabrielle answered as her skirt slipped down her legs and pooled on the floor.

"Bend over the desk," I ordered.

"Are you going to be a big, bad doggie today Doctor?" she asked as she bent over so that her arms were splayed out to the side and her full, firm teenage breasts were squashed against the polished mahogany surface of my desk. "OUCH!" she complained after I'd brought my palm down in a hard slap on the round left cheek of her bum. But even as she complained she spread her feet wider, opening herself for the coming assault.

"Pig," she accused as I penetrated her.

"Pretty little bitch!" I answered as my cock split her.


My name is Andrew William Von Scouries III, Andy for short. I happen to be a highly sexed, twenty-nine year old psychiatrist who, along with my baby sister, was raised by my grandfather after my parents had died when I was eleven. My grandfather, a gynecologist, and a womanizer of the first order, recognized the strength of my sexual drive very early on. And encouraged it!

It was he who made sure I had a complete understanding of the female body. In fact he allowed me to observe some of his medical examinations through a one way mirror when I was still in high school. And it was he who directed me towards psychiatry when I'd first expressed an interest in following him into gynecology.

"But I want to be a gynecologist grandpa," I'd complained.

"If you can get into their minds you'll be able to get into their pants Andy," my sixty-seven year old grandfather had advised his eighteen year old grandson. And he'd been right!

My grandfather had also happened to own one of the largest and most comprehensive collections of women's undergarments in the world. Which I'd inherited when he'd died. I had come by my panty fetish honestly!

He'd also collected all manner of sexual toys and contraptions...

Session #2

"Should I take off my clothes today doctor?"

"No, that won't be necessary this week Miss O'Malley," I answered as I looked up at my patient. For just a second a look of disappointment flashed through her eyes.

"Will I be on the special couch today?" It was clear she wanted to.

"I save that for more advanced sessions Katherine," I said softly. I watched as her eyes came to rest on the panties I'd folded carefully and left on the corner of my desk. She immediately recognized them as the ones she'd left the week before.

"Do you really have a panty fetish?" she asked as she sat. I knew without seeing them that the underwear she had on today was her very best ... and sexiest.

"I saw you in court this week," I said as I ignored her question.

"No you didn't," she said with a certainty and speed that threw me momentarily. When she saw my questioning glance she hurried on. "I know every single person who's in any courtroom I'm working," she said with utter confidence.

"You do? Even the spectators? But how? Why?"

"I'm on stage Doctor. I'm performing."

"But surely only for the Judge ... the Jury," I interjected.

"That's what some of my colleagues say Doctor but it's not true. You have to sell yourself to every member of the audience."

"I see, but you know Katherine I was there," I still maintained after she'd finished her explanation.

For seconds she sat silently, eyes closed. I could almost see the film that she was replaying in her mind. Suddenly her eyes snapped open. "The old man ... bearded ... on Tuesday afternoon ... the Wilson Company case, I wondered what he was doing there. He didn't fit. It was you," she accused.

"You have a remarkable memory Miss O'Malley, a remarkable eye for details," I complimented; stunned she'd been able to go back in her mind and find me. I'd sat in the back of one of her courtrooms for two hours simply watching her perform, trying to get an idea of who she was. She'd been masterful.

"Hah, I didn't even recognize you." I could see she was silently chiding herself for missing me.

"You put on an extraordinary performance that day Miss O'Malley," I complimented. "You could be an actress, an Oscar winner," I added.

"I acted in high school, in College," my new patient conceded, a hint of pride in her voice.

"You dominated the courtroom. Your opponent, the jury, even the judge." And as I'd watched her that day I'd come to recognize the duality that had finally driven her to me.

"You have to be strong Doctor," Katherine answered but as she talked in her confident way she spread her legs, clearly an unconscious movement, but also one that signaled her weakness.

"So tell me about the meeting Miss O'Malley," I invited.

"The meeting?" I didn't respond as I printed MEETING in capital letters on my pad. I knew she knew which meeting. "You mean after I left here last week?" she finally tried. I nodded yes.

"About my being pantyless?" She asked. I nodded again. "It was just a normal meeting," she said nonchalantly. I smiled disbelievingly as I scrawled a few words on my pad.

"Okay, maybe it wasn't completely normal," she conceded, an uneasy grin on her lips.

"Did you have an orgasm during the meeting Katherine?" I interjected.

"Of course not," my suddenly blushing patient protested.

"You didn't have an urge to lift your dress and show yourself to the partners?"

"Are you crazy? That's perverted. We're lawyers. Professionals. We were discussing the strategy for an upcoming multi million dollar corporate trial."

"When was the last time you had an orgasm Katherine," I asked as I held my pen poised above the pad.

"An orgasm?" she finally asked. I waited. "With a man?" the now beet red face of my patient asked.

"I'm not interested in who was the agent of it my dear, just when it occurred."

"Sex isn't my problem doctor. That's not why I'm here. I was afraid you'd only be interested in that ... in my dreams ... you psychiatrists," she accused. Again I simply waited her out.

"Last week ... maybe ten days ago ... I masturbated," the lovely redhead finally admitted.

"Are you a heterosexual Miss O'Malley?"

"Yes, of course I am!" she answered quickly, almost shouting.

"And when was the last time you had penile/vaginal intercourse Katherine?" My pen was writing furiously now. My patient's eyes darted back and forth from my face to the pad on the desk.

"Three weeks ago ... no, maybe a month," she finally admitted.

"You don't remember? Did you have an orgasm?"

She was silent for second after second. I waited, pen poised. "Yes. More than one, that's not my problem," she finally blurted out.

"You orgasm easily?" I probed.

"Yes," she whispered back.

"Every time?"

"Yes."

"Why haven't you had sex for a month then?"

"I'm busy. At work. We often have to work late night after night. It's not that easy to meet men with the hours I'm working." The complaint was clear.

"What about the partners? Your colleagues at work?"

"I'd never ... they can't know-"

"Can't know what?" I asked.

"That I'm weak, that I need ... that a strong man can--," my patient said softly before letting her voice trail off.

 
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