Chapter 6

Three days later, I drove over to the hospital to pick up Aunt Margie to take her back home. As she was packing up her few belongings, I got Dr. Milton off to the side and asked, “Do you have enough yet to make you comfortable with diagnosing DID? Did the diary and the interviews with the boys help you reach a conclusion?”

He seemed distressed and worried, as took me by the arm and guided me down the hall and into his office. He closed the door, turned to me and said, “Okay, you’ve got your DID diagnosis, but you should understand that the only reason I’m releasing your aunt is because she seems to be responding to the medication. My god, Marty! That Dagmar manifestation is an ANIMAL!”

I couldn’t have been more pleased, and it wasn’t easy to keep the smirk off my face when I asked, “You saying you’ve met her? She actually came out while you were in a session with Aunt Margie?”

He dropped his voice to nearly a whisper. “Marty, she’s blackmailing me ... Dagmar, that is, not Margaret. Twenty minutes into our first session, she had me stripped and she was screwing my socks off! I’ve never seen anything like it. There was no warning, no nothing! One minute I’m talking to sweet, civilized Margaret, the next, her total opposite is attacking me! That Dagmar is the sexiest, the most erotic, the most ravenous sex machine imaginable! And Marty, the only reason I’m telling you this is because I know that if you encounter her again, she’s going to tell you. She said she’d keep her mouth shut about me as long as I cooperated with you. You didn’t put her up to this, did you?”

“Jesus, Dr. Milton! Give me a little credit!”

He backed off. “Sorry, Marty. It’s just that, if word ever got out that I had sex with a patient, I could lose my license!”

“Yeah, that would be awful! And your wife would probably divorce you on the spot!”

He weighed that thought for moment. “No. No, that would go into the plus column. But damn, Marty, I don’t even remember how I let it get so far. One minute we were talking, and the next minute she was sitting on my naked lap bouncing up and down on, um, well, the best erection I’ve had in twenty-five years! Everything in between is a blur. If I weren’t a scientist, I’d have to believe she put a spell on me!”

“A spell?” I laughed. “Look, Dr. Milton, as you saw in the video, I’ve experienced Dagmar, and I know she can be very compelling. No straight man could be blamed for giving in to her feminine charms.”

He looked at me wide-eyed. “Yes, the video! You had sex with your aunt! That’s incest!”

“Oh, give me a break, Doctor! You just told me she was irresistible, didn’t you? Do you think I’m some super paragon of virtue? Of course, I fucked her, given the chance. Hell, I’ve had the hots for Aunt Margie since I was a kid, and so has a good portion of this town’s male population! Anyhow, as you now know, it wasn’t Aunt Margie I wrestled with, it was Dagmar.”

“Right. Right. Sorry about that. It’s just that this is such a strange case, it has me a bit out of sorts. My god, those poor boys never had a chance.”

I couldn’t believe the doctor was that naive. “Poor boys? Dr. Milton, there’s not a one of them that wouldn’t jump in the sack with Dagmar again if they were given half a chance! Like you said, she’s an irresistible, insatiable sex machine! But getting back to Aunt Margie, didn’t you say she was medicated now? Does that mean her Dagmar persona is contained?”

“Yes, I’m fairly confident Margaret will be fine as long as she stays on the pills I’ve prescribed. My biggest concern is that they make her feel a bit, um, foggy, and she’s already told me she doesn’t like that feeling. I think you should keep an eye on her to make sure she stays with the regimen.”

“I don’t know how I’ll manage that, since I’m working ten or twelve hours a day and we don’t live in the same house. Why don’t you send one of your psych nurses by her house from time to time to check up on her. Doesn’t her insurance cover home health care?”

He shook his head. “This isn’t the same thing. Oh, never mind. I know now that Margaret is scared to death of Dagmar, and I can’t imagine her not taking her medication if she’s convinced it will keep her worst nightmare away. Just let the receptionist know when I’m supposed to show up in court so she can get it on my calendar.”

I reached for the doorknob. “I’ll do that. Thanks for all your help, and, WOO HOO! You did Dagmar! Lucky you!”

He didn’t think that was funny.

Crap! Double crap! As if this mess wasn’t complicated enough, Charlene has managed to toss another monkey wrench into the works.

Naturally, as my secretary and sort-of uncertified paralegal, she reads just about every scrap of evidence I’m putting together for Aunt Margie’s court appearance. Apparently, one scrap in particular caught her eye and gave her ideas. The Brenner hyper-sexed curse has struck again!

Here’s how it went down: Three days before our scheduled court appearance, I had to research some documents on a property dispute. I told Charlene I’d be at the county records office for the rest of the afternoon, and that she should lock up at five if I didn’t make it back. Well, as luck would have it, the documents I was looking for were easier to locate than I expected and I was done by three. I figured I’d go back to the office and work on putting everything together for Aunt Margie’s case.

When I parked in my assigned slot, I spotted a very distinctive bicycle locked up in the bike rack near the entrance. It was an expensive, metallic green mountain bike that I recognized as Denis Leary’s. I wondered if he was waiting for me, or if he had business in a different office entirely.

Imagine my surprise when I got to my office and saw the OUT TO LUNCH sign hanging on the doorknob. It was way past lunchtime.

The door wasn’t locked. With growing suspicion, I opened it slowly and peeked inside. Charlene was nowhere to be seen, but as I stepped into the office, I heard her distinctive sex-play whimpers and groans; sounds I’m quite familiar with. I still didn’t make the connection to Denis, and instead, guessed she must have finally made up with William and they were having makeup sex on my office couch. Irritating, but Charlene tends to be impulsive.

But then I heard a male voice, and it wasn’t William’s. William is a big man and he has a big, deep-pitched voice. This sounded like a young voice.

I have deep-pile carpet in my office, and it muffled my footsteps as I crossed the reception area to my door and tried the knob. It, too, was unlocked. Very sloppy, Charlene! Very sloppy indeed!

I opened the door just a crack and peeked in. There was Charlene in a familiar position - skirt up around her waist, panties down to her knees, bent over my desk. And behind her was Denis Leary, his jeans and undies around his ankles, his hands holding onto Charlene’s hips as his lily-white butt cycled rapidly back and forth, slamming his dick (a very impressive one for a fifteen-year-old kid) into her with all the power he could muster. His hair and his T-shirt were sweat-soaked, his head was thrown back and his eyes were squeezed shut as he hit his peak and shot a load into my secretary while making some of the strangest sounds I ever heard come out of a human.

Still unseen just inside the door, I stood there taking it all in while the couple groaned and gasped through what must have been a pretty satisfying climax. Idly, I thought, If I’d been a minute earlier, it would have been a case of coitus interruptus.