Chapter 6

If that dinnertime was filled with repressed sexual frustration, the next twenty minutes were at least ten times worse. Kathy, or rather Trixie, couldn't keep her barely clad ass still and wandered the living room in a pair of sky high heels aimlessly giving her butt cheeks a workout while keeping her tits jiggling non-stop. Garry gave me a pointed sort of look of frustration and I agreed with him. It was time to put an end to this shit.

"Slut, come over here!" I bellowed, calling Trixie back into the room to give us what she'd been wanting to do all evening long, which was give us a proper show.

"Stop all that swishing about and give us a proper show, dance for us right here!" I continued, "And stop the teasing act, now ... either put out or shut up!" Trixie was very obviously very willing to put out!

For the next twenty minutes even without a proper club music soundtrack to accompany her, my girlfriend (or rather her slutty alter-ego) bumped and grinded away as if she were on a stage dance floor and slowly teased and removed her few articles of clothing, eventually dancing naked in just her high heels in front of us. The show was damned good, way too good for any amateur. Obviously, she'd danced in gentlemen's entertainment clubs before, and her routine suggested that she was also very used to performing with a stripper's pole, and Garry commented nearly immediately on this.

"Damn, I thought with just a big screen TV, that my entertainment room had everything!" He laughed, "But now I think I'll order a big stripper's pole right for the middle of the room!"

"Might as well," I agreed, "I think that's the only thing that her show is lacking."

The dance portion of the show pretty much concluded into a pair of rather nasty lap dances where Trixie rubbed her tits and ass into our faces and laps until we both had raging hard-ons. This would have been a very opportune time to stop the show before things got any further out of hand but Trixie was lost in a world of her own and not particularly paying much attention to me.

"That's enough teasing Trixie." I suggested in a tone that much more resembled a rather pointed demand. She just replied with a loud string of giggles that didn't suggest that much if any intelligent thought was occurring inside her head. I just shrugged with growing indifference as she rubbed Garry's crotch with one hand while her tits also rubbed his face as she pushed her poking nipples into his mouth.

"Bubba, I'm getting tired of listening to silly sluts constantly giggling," I muttered in rather genuine annoyance, "so why don't you see if you can find something to shut her stupid mouth with and give us a few minutes of peace and quiet?" Garry looked at me to double-check that I really was giving him the OK to fuck my girl and I just rolled my eyes in exasperation and shrugged. The crazy slut wanted it ... and we weren't going to have peace in this house until she'd done him. At least maybe just giving him a blow job would reduce the tensions a bit around here.

I watched my girlfriend suck off my best friend with growing indifference. I'd expected to be jealous, watching him enjoy what I thought was mine to have and enjoy alone, but I was growing increasingly tired and annoyed with living with Trixie the Slut, and not Kathy ... let alone the hint of Katherine I'd once had. I'd already pretty much decided that I was not in love with Trixie, and didn't even particularly want to live with her on a daily basis either. Sure she was fun to fuck, but real relationships are much more complicated and involved than that. More importantly I already knew that I couldn't trust Trixie; Kathy herself had warned me about this once. Trixie was a female animal with perverse and fairly complicated sexual needs and she was a fish out of water in a dedicated monogamous relationship. The very concept was probably alien to her.

Garry exploded a load of cum into Trixie's mouth and she just giggled even louder as she swallowed it down with blatant pleasure and delight. I felt several competing emotions going through my head but neither love nor jealousy was among them.

"Slut, suck his cock nice and hard again! I want him to fuck you from behind next while you suck me!" And she did. Keeping her mouth stuffed full of cock mostly kept the giggling down to a tolerable level, well somewhat anyway. I was just aroused and angry enough to face fuck her fairly hard to blow my own load deep into her sluttish mouth and meeting her eyes for just a moment as I ejaculated I saw nothing of Kathy within them. Her eyes showed nothing but desire and for the next hour or so my buddy and I tried to fulfill her needs.

It was nearly pointless of course, and a lot like trying to drain the entire Colorado River with just a leaky bucket. The slutty whore just wanted more and eventually we guys had had enough. It took at least another half hour with her magic wand vibrator for her to relax enough to sleep, but I had already rolled over and was mostly asleep by then.

I was living with a woman that increasingly confused and disturbed me. I would probably have never shared Kathy, even with my best friend, but Trixie was increasingly becoming just a play toy for our amusement. She was just an object to be fucked ... but unfortunately couldn't be sent home with taxi money afterwards. She was an interesting distraction but I think that even Garry was getting as tired of her antics as I was.

I hoped that Kathy would be back with us in the morning, but it was Trixie that awakened me early with a blow job. The disappointment was nearly crippling, as I'd hoped her little three-way last night would have settled her down a little, but it hadn't. Even dressing for work as Kathy didn't quite complete the change back until we arrived at her work. Even then I'm not sure the switch was particularly genuine. This convinced me even more that 'Kathy' was just another act, a different change of clothes, and not particularly any more genuine than Trixie or Katie were. For the moment anyway, I just didn't care.

"Kathy," I casually enquired as she got out the car, "did you ever give your shrink that phone call? You'd told me last week that you thought it might be a good idea to start seeing her again." It wasn't really a question and she'd already given me her answer when she started to loudly giggle again.

"Did I? Whatever for? The woman was useless! No ... I'm not planning on talking to her, let alone seeing her again! Besides, I'm just fine now!"

No... Trixie might be doing just fine, but everyone else was starting to become just as crazy as she was!

"Mary Grant's office." The pleasant voice on the phone announced and I quickly introduced myself and the reason I had called.

I had been at wits end since I returned home and was getting almost nothing useful accomplished next door in my garage. I'd woken up early again in the morning and while Kathy, or rather Trixie was sleeping I'd taken a browse through her DayTimer schedule and address book. A brief examination showed that Kathy had indeed written down a note to call her old therapist but this annotation had been recently scratched out. Probably by Trixie. If Trixie didn't want to talk to the shrink, then at least I certainly did. I was slowly going nuts myself now these days.

"Stop me if this starts to sound too crazy Doctor," I laughed, "but this is my view of the situation. I met a nice wonderful sort of girl named Kathy Yates and we liked each other a lot right from the very start. She however has a crazy and unusually sexually liberated live-in girlfriend named Trixie inside of her head who likes to take over at times and create trouble for us, and at times like now seems to take complete possession over her. To make things worse, if the situation gets stressful, she sometimes reverts back to acting like a young girl ... one with even worse emotional issues than Trixie, and this girl, let's call her Katie, can't keep her knees together either. Now I'm about to go crazy as well and I just don't think I can keep living with Kathy's odd little friends anymore..."

The Doctor was quiet on the other end of the phone for rather a long time, enough so that for a moment I'd thought that she'd hung up on me, thinking me to be a raving madman.

"Any ideas Doc?" I enquired, desperate to hear anything other than silence from across the telephone line.

"No..." she said rather slowly and deliberately, "but you're not going mad and I'm very well acquainted with Kathy's past problems with both Trixie and Katie too. And while my husband has a PhD, I've only got a Master's in Clinical Psychology. Just call me Mary please. So you think that Kathy is losing control then?"

"I don't know, but her visits are lasting longer and Kathy doesn't seem to be fighting her for dominance much, except for a brief time last weekend when she became extremely animated and very much in self control once more for a few very pleasant hours. Surprisingly so, really ... I'm calling that persona Katherine, but I've only met her briefly that once. She's actually very much the sort of person I'd like Kathy to be someday, if we can manage to stay together, which I'm now beginning to sincerely doubt."

"I've always wanted to meet Katherine," she laughed but in a polite sort of way, "but I could never get her to come out and join us in therapy. No, Kurt you've done exactly the right thing for Kathy, and if you do care at all about her then she is going to need your help, and I'll need your help too. This switch of personas undoubtedly will be temporary, just be patient and give it some time ... but when you've got Kathy back again you will need to bring her into my office as soon as possible. Anytime, without an appointment, even weekends. I'll make time for her. Can you be patient for awhile longer and do this for me ... for all of us? Let me give you my personal cell phone number..."

Well, how could I say no? I didn't love Trixie the Slut, but if I could get Kathy back to me soon ... and more or less to stay, that would indeed be worth the emotional effort.

Trixie ended up remaining with us all the rest of the week and her sexual needs proved to be demonstrably insatiable by just two mere mortal men. By Friday night even Garry was worn out and tired of being around our constantly giggling cumdumpster. Trixie was a lot of fun to fuck but the rest of the time she proved disappointingly incapable of holding an intelligent conversation. She even declined to go to the gun club with us Friday night, and I didn't dare expose Trixie to the rest of the members ... nor did I dare leave the incorrigible slut alone.

She didn't like it much, but Trixie had the pleasure of being tied up and hung naked from the wall of the smaller basement room once more. Strung up like a curvy side of beef and gagged. We hoped that this would be sufficient to keep her out of trouble for awhile. Frankly, as far as I was concerned, Trixie could just remain there until she became bored enough to allow Kathy to regain control.

Saturday morning I checked upon my helpless captive but didn't note any significant improvement. Trixie was still in heat and desperate for relief, but I wasn't inclined to give it to her. I stuffed a fat butt plug into her ass and with a harness mounted a small vibrator (with fresh batteries) set on the lowest possible speed into her cunt and fastened it securely. I added a pair of nipple clamps as well just to keep Trixie really aroused and then I left her alone to stew in the dark for most of the day. Garry promised to leave her alone as well, like me, he really needed the rest.

Alone to my own devises, I loaded up the dozen or so items that I'd culled from my antiques storage and drove on up to an acquaintance in Dallas who ran an extremely large and prestigious auction gallery to get them consigned for a sale to be held in two weeks.

The loot, such as it was, wasn't entirely up to my mental expectations, but it would have to do.

Dealing with Trixie for nearly a full week had been nerve wracking, and it had been only with supreme effort of concentration that I had finished my unpacking and sorting late this week. The initial results were disappointing, enough so that I had spent most of Friday rummaging in my other storage shed hoping against hope that I'd squirreled away something neat or important there by mistake. I grabbed a few odd things from there as well, but nothing really appeared to be particularly rare or valuable. But I was getting desperate.

On the plus side, I did have a set of six 19^th century KPM porcelain plaques depicting the traditional Stations of the Cross, but the set was originally seven plaques, so one was missing from the set. This would hurt its value at auction ... unless the buyer already had the missing plaque. A collection of older KPM plaques can sell individually for $10 thousand or more at auction but this series was relatively common and none of these pieces were in perfect flawless condition. I'd found them years ago in a junk shop where they'd just been thrown lose into a wooden crate along with other stuff and they'd received a goodly amount of chips, dings and scratches in the process. Nice, but probably not top dollar auction items.

I was slightly more optimistic about a twenty-two piece set of Royal Bayreuth 'Devil' card and gaming porcelain drink service. Usually these 'Devil' drink and snack service pieces are invariably found with minor chips and scratches (it's a fragile set) and these were no exception. This set did have several of the scarcer pieces so I was vaguely hopeful that the collection might have some auction interest.

I had another two boxes with other assorted items that ought to sell in the several hundred dollar range each, like some relative modern era Meissen figurines, a small Savre snuff box (repaired), and a pair of small Chinese Famille Rose vases that I'd never been able to date, and a small Galle cameo glass vase, but by far my best hope for happy result was a nice late 1920's oil painting by Bedford Hallings, a noted Texas impressionistic landscape artist. Hallings specialized in rural scenes, usually painted on or near his hill country ranch, and his spring paintings featuring bluebonnets and other wild flowers were especially in demand. This was a relatively small painting but it was in nice enough condition ... and featured a colorful wildflower covered hill and windmill mill. Certainly good for earning at least $10 thousand, or so I hoped.

I'd grabbed another handful of paintings from the 'junk' storage as well. I don't know all that much about art and this was a good chance to let the professionals check them over for free. Maybe one or two might be suitable for cheap fill-in for the early/late parts of the auction.

"So ... what do you think Art?" I calmly enquired, after letting the auction gallery's senior consignment manager take a complete and thorough rummage through my three boxes of goodies and the four paintings.

"Mostly filler but it's all saleable. It can all go in the next big monthly decorative antiques auction in two weeks. The Galle is nice ... an earlier piece I think and pretty clean as well, unlike the KPM's. Too bad about those. If they had been pristine in the full set of seven, those would have cleared fifty-thousand for sure. Now? Maybe fifteen to eighteen thousand."

"That will do. I need the bucks to do some major house work and that's exactly the way I found them, so there is little point crying over what might have been. What's your auction estimate for the Hallings?"

"Promising ... maybe $20K, depending upon the right sort of bidders. He's still very much in demand as a noted Texas artist and this scene is a fairly familiar one, he painted this windmill on his ranch at least a dozen other times. The condition is pretty good but needs a proper cleaning, it's been hung over a fireplace and there's a good bit of soot imbedded in the paint. If you want, I can have my painting expert Mary give the canvas a good cleaning and restoration and I'm sure we've got a better frame to put it in. Give us a $500 extra improvement credit upon the sale and I'll guarantee you that it will be worth at least double that in extra bids. Agreed?"

"Sounds fair. Go ahead. I'd like to get top dollar for this piece anyway." I would miss this painting, it was over my fireplace at the old house and it had hung there for nearly six years until the divorce.

"Actually, if we're all very lucky, it won't be the Hallings that will be your most bid upon item. Instead, let's take another look at your three seascapes for a minute, because I think that they're each very special."

I'd always liked the seascapes, they were bright, colorful and breezy. They lit up any room they were hung in but I'd never been able to figure out who the artist was. The three paintings were also relatively modern, probably from the 1960's and so I'd discounted them of being of any significant value. I'd bought them years ago at an estate sale in Victoria, Texas for a hundred dollars each and the only reason that they hadn't gone up for local auction at my earlier liquidation was that I'd stashed them away in my junk shed to research some more someday and had largely forgotten about them entirely. I rediscovered them again yesterday and decided to bring them along so that Art could maybe help me to identify the artist. In fact, Art had been able to recognize the works immediately.

"Alright, I give ... I can make out the signed initials 'AH' on the bottom right corner of the paintings and the various dates in the 1960's marked on the back of the canvas, but it doesn't mean anything to me. I looked online at a few Texas Artist historical web sites and checked with a few people once but no one recognized the initials. But you do..."

"The artist was Anna Haynes and she lived and painted the Texas seacoast for about forty years until her death in the late 1980's. She was born in Houston and worked there as a nurse until she was widowed during World War Two and then she moved down south near Port Lavaca and lived in a small rural coastal town called Lovett. She only painted seascapes, and until about ten years ago, no one had ever really heard of her. She sold very few of her paintings and never held an exhibition of her work anywhere during her lifetime, but she gave a lot away to friends and family. When she died, her executor, a younger nephew, found her remaining collection of nearly forty completed paintings and exhibited them, and eventually placed many of them up for auction, where they received international attention. She's still relatively unknown, but already she is considered one of the finest Texas seascape artists and her paintings have continued to significantly increase in value every year since."

"So ... these are valuable then, and worth putting in the auction too along with the Hallings?"

"Very much so. I would be very surprised if each of these three paintings didn't exceed the final value for the Hallings. In fact, I've been negotiating off and on with a collector who has considered selling his own Anna Haynes painting, and with proper advertising for offering four of these works, we should attract some extremely motivated Texana art collectors and enjoy some robust bidding ... and probably even establish a top sale price for each of these important works!"

Art was still excited a hour later after the last of my auction items had received a catalog number and I had signed the consignment paperwork. The three Haynes were cleaner than the sooty Hallings, but I agreed to have Mary give them a professional cleaning also anyway so that they could be photographed and advertised to their best advantage. A rough calculation of the low auction estimate total for my items might just bring me to my goal of fifty thousand dollars, but I'd also be losing twenty percent in consignment costs for the sale. The house would earn another 10% in Buyer's Premium as well, but this mostly just covered their auction expenses. I'd thought about getting into the auction business once myself and decided that it was a recipe for losing money, not that running my own antique shop had been particularly profitable either.