Chapter 1

Elizabeth McGowan sat in the waiting room of the psychiatrist’s office, wringing her hands nervously. She didn’t want to be there, but she had been ordered by the court on a referral by her former psychiatrist who could do no more to help her.

A couple weeks earlier, Elizabeth had been arrested when the bartender of the establishment she was in called the cops after learning she was blowing and fucking guys in the restroom. She was doing it right in the middle of the floor, not even trying to be discrete about it. When the officer found her, she was bent over the bathroom counter watching her own face in the mirror as some half-gassed bar patron was driving his large cock into her greedy cunt. Because she wasn’t charging money or getting any kind of compensation for her services, they couldn’t make prostitution stick. So the charge was reduced to “lewd and lascivious behavior”.

In court, her previous psychiatrist, Dr. Wilkinson, testified that Elizabeth was a good person, she just had a lack of self-control when it came to sex. She was diagnosed as a nymphomaniac and although she had seen several psychiatrists, counselors, and even her clergyman, nothing seemed to help.

But the psychiatrist had heard of one other in his field who’d had some rather remarkable success in treating different aberrant behaviors using hypnosis along with other therapies. He suggested to the judge hearing the case that jail wasn’t the place for Elizabeth because she wasn’t deliberately trying to break the law – she wasn’t in control of her actions when she was doing these things. Basically, putting her in jail would be punishing her for something she didn’t do!

So upon recommendation from her former doctor, the judge ordered her to seek the help of this “miracle worker” doctor.

But before the new doctor saw Elizabeth, he needed to know a bit about the case. So Dr. Wilkinson made a phone call.

“Hello, this is Dr. Addams office, can I help you?” the receptionist answered the phone.

“Yes, this is Dr. Wilkinson calling. May I please speak to Dr. Addams? It’s about a patient referral,” he said.

“Of course doctor. Please hold a moment,” she said.

Then Dr. Addams got on the phone. “This is Dr. Addams, how can I help you?”

“Dr. Addams, I have a patient here that I need your help with. I’m afraid I can’t do anything more for her and she is in trouble with the court system. I told the judge in her case that you have had a lot of success using hypnosis and other therapies that I don’t use. He suggested you have a look at the case and meet with her and see if you can help her. I don’t know, but I’m afraid if you can’t help her she may wind up in jail!”

“I see, so this is a serious legal matter then. So what is her problem?” Dr. Addams asked.

“It’s a sexual dysfunction. I am sending over her file for you to read through. It will explain her case and everything that has been tried. You should get her file today or early tomorrow. She needs your help if you can help her,” he said.

“Well, I can’t make any promises, of course, but I will have a look. I don’t like to see anyone go to jail for what they can’t control,” Dr. Addams said.

“I agree. Thanks for your help. I will tell her and the courts so they are aware of what’s going on as well,” Dr. Wilkinson said.

The next day, Dr. Addams couldn’t wait for the file on this patient to reach his desk. Dr. Wilkinsons words kept replaying over and over in his mind. He wondered what kind of sexual dysfunction could have this patient in trouble with the law and why no one seemed to be able to help her.When the courier arrived with the unmarked brown manila envelope, Dr. Addams was quite excited to read it. He wanted to find out more about this “very special case.” So as soon as the courier left, Dr. Addams shut his door and began reading.

It was quite a file too! In fact, Dr. Addams couldn’t remember ever seeing a file so thick. This poor woman had really been through the ringer when it came to seeking help. And from the looks of things, she didn’t receive much in the way of help along the way. Just a lot of “I understand” and “Maybe we could try this” and “I can’t help you but maybe this person can”. She was handed off like a Christmas fruitcake no one wanted!

As he skimmed through the encyclopedia-thick file he saw an evaluation that stated the woman “suffers from an aberrant nymphomaniac dysfunction that produces an irrational need for sexual gratification. She suffers from an inability to judge appropriate settings and times for these sexual encounters leading to uncomfortable social interactions and trouble with others.” This was going to be an interesting and challenging case to be sure!

Now Elizabeth was waiting to see what this new doctor had to say. She wasn’t holding out much hope – most of the doctors either told her flat out they couldn’t help her or if they did decide to try, it never lasted very long. So she didn’t figure this doctor would be any different ... and she was quickly running out of mental health professionals!

Suddenly the door opened up and a woman walked out. “Thank you so much, Dr. Addams. I will give your suggestion a try and see if that helps. I will make an appointment with your receptionist for two weeks from today for a follow-up,” she said. Then she turned to the receptionist and Dr. Addams turned his attention to Elizabeth.

“Won’t you come in?” he said smiling. Elizabeth got up and nervously walked into the doctor’s office. “My name is Peter. I like to use first names here because it puts people more at ease. Not too many people feel comfortable in a psychiatrist’s office – they always think I am examining them even when I am just talking with them! We psychiatrists are just above dentists on the ‘Friendly Doctor Meter’!” he said, smiling.

His friendly smile and self-deprecating manner made her smile and she relaxed a little. “Please have a seat and let’s talk a little shall we? I want to know more about you. I looked through your file – which is quite large – but that is from other doctors ... I want to know what you think,” he said.

This was something that she hadn’t really expected. Most of her past doctors took what was in the file and didn’t really ask her opinions or what she thought – it was almost as if what was in her head wasn’t the issue. They just wanted a quick and easy diagnosis so they could get to the billing part!

“Well doctor, I’m not really sure. I mean I think I am pretty normal. But from time to time it’s like I go to another place. I’m not sure what is going on around me and I feel kind of disconnected to everything. Then the feeling passes and I find that I have had sex with someone – either man or woman, but usually men. Or sometimes I have just taken my clothes off and danced on a table naked or done some other sexually explicit something or other. More than a few times I woke up in the back of a police car or in a cell at the local police station.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t help these ‘episodes’ as I call them, and I can’t control when or where they will hit me. I even tried locking myself in my house, but if I lock the door, I can unlock it. It’s only when the door is locked from the outside that I am safe – if there’s no other way out ... like a jail cell,” she said.

She looked down at the floor and sighed heavily. You probably think I’m pretty broken after reading my file, don’t you? It’s all right ... I’m beginning to think I’m broken any more as well,” she said sadly.

“Look at me Elizabeth. I don’t care about your file ... It seems to be a rather harsh diagnosis to me and it’s just other doctors opinions – none of whom seem to have done a lot to help you. I will form my own opinions on what’s going on based on what I see and what you tell me. I actually don’t do things like most psychotherapists usually do. I have my own approach to treating my patients and, if you don’t mind me tooting my own horn a bit, it’s an approach I have had quite a bit of success with.

“I don’t see people as being broken or damaged. Whether you are tall, short, smart, sad, happy ... we’re all equal and on the same level. We just want to be happy. And if there is something in the way of you finding that happiness, well it’s my job to find out what it is if I can so we can either remove it or go around it. Now I just need some basic information about you. Then if I feel a relaxation session is needed, we’ll do that,” he said.

Elizabeth replied, “That sounds good to me too. You are much different than the other therapists I’ve been to see ... nicer and more friendly.” She gave him a timid little smile.

“Let’s start at the beginning since I’ve found that’s where most problems start too. I read from your file that you didn’t have the rosiest of childhoods,” he said.

“That’s right. My father left us when I was just a baby ... Mom said I was about nine months old when he split on us,” she said.

“So your father wasn’t there for any of your birthdays?” he asked.

“No. Once he left, we never saw him again. I don’t know where he’s at, if he’s alive or dead, or even his name to look for him – not that I would want to find him,” she said.

“I see. Go on then,” he said.

“Anyway, Mom and I made the best life we could. She worked as a waitress and we managed to stay one step ... one small step ... ahead of the bill collectors. But the stress of working and raising a kid alone got to be too much for her, and she began drinking to forget her troubles for a while. The drinking turned to pills and while she never got heavily into drugs – we couldn’t afford it anyway – she soon became an alcoholic and pill popper. And from the age of about nine or ten, I pretty much raised myself.

“When Mom was lucid everything was good, but more and more I had to fend for myself when it came to meals. It started slowly, only once in awhile would she go on a bender. But as time went on and once in a while wasn’t enough, it got more and more frequent. I began to watch cooking shows to learn how to cook for myself and ate a lot of microwave meals until I did. Finally, Mom’s body, and her will, gave out. I had just turned eighteen when she passed away.

“That’s when I began having these ‘episodes’ or whatever they are. They started soon after Mom died. And I’ve been seeing shrinks and doctors ever since. I’ve had x-rays, CAT scans, MRI’s and every kind of test you can imagine but nobody ever finds anything. Physically, there’s nothing wrong with me,” she pointed to her head, “but up here there’s something going on that no one can figure out,” Elizabeth said.