Dad Doesnt Stand A Chance Part 4
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Consultation free porn video
A little tale from a while back that never got posted for various reasons.
Consultation
By Ellie Dauber
Copyright 2002
The buzzer sounded on Dr. Max Leiber's desk. "Your 3 o'clock is here, Dr."
Angela, the receptionist's voice was clear over the intercom system.
Max reached for his tablet. "Send him in, please." He looked at the brief
note on his desk. Jakov Pauli. The man was a new patient; the appointment
made directly without a referral. There was no information on why the man
wanted to see him. A copy of the patient information form appeared on the
screen of his desktop PC from the scanner in Angie's desk.
Max was in his forties, a slightly heavyset man with curly brown hair and a
van Dyke beard. "A psychologist -- especially a Freudian like myself -- has
to have a beard." He wore a slightly rumpled brown suit with a gold and
brown necktie, the knot pulled loose around his throat.
"Dr. Leiber?" A tall, slender man stood in the office doorway. He looked
to be in his mid thirties. He had a narrow face, with an aquiline nose, and
jet-black hair combed straight back. His suit was dark gray, well-tailored,
and obviously expensive.
"Yes, I'm Max Leiber. You are Mr. Pauli?" Max stood and walked out from
behind the desk, his round face set in a friendly smile. "May I call you
Jakov?"
"I don't see why not. May I call you..." he looked down at Max's desk,
"...Max?"
"I generally prefer Dr. Leiber, since we will be having a doctor-patient
relationship. I hope you don't mind. I think it works better that way."
"Of course, I was being facetious. I understand completely what you expect
our relationship to be."
"That's an odd way of putting it." He gestured to the chair by his desk.
"Would you like to sit down."
"What, no 'please lie down on the couch?'" There was a comfortable looking
brown couch a few feet away. An overstuffed pillow was stuck next to the
armrest at one end. A wooden chair and a small end table were next to the
couch. The nearby windows offered a fine view of the Sears Tower and the
Chicago skyline.
"I do have most of my sessions with the patients on the couch, but I like to
start with them at the desk. We can talk face to face that way, get to know
each other a little. Some patients prefer to continue their sessions that
way."
"Very well, I suppose it won't take very long." Pauli sat in the chair.
Max took his seat behind the desk.
"Jakov is an unusual first name," Max said, trying to start the
conversation.
"My parents were from Yugoslavia, the part that calls itself 'Monte Negro'
now. I suppose I could have changed it, but it was my grandfather's name.
I'm rather proud of it."
"I understand. I'm named for my mother's uncle. He and her mother raised
her after her own father died in World War II."
"My grandfather was still alive when I was a boy. He ran the family
business. My father took it over after he died. I run it now."
"What sort of a business is that, Jakov?"
"I'm an assassin."
Max's expression didn't change. He made a few notes on his pad. "That's an
unusual profession. Do you... enjoy your work?"
Pauli smiled. "Very good, Doctor. No, 'Why do you think you're an
assassin?' or 'How long have you believed that you were an assassin?' I
could almost believe that you thought I was telling the truth."
"From your manner and what little I've observed about you, you believe that
you are telling the truth. I'll reserve the right to ask those questions
later, though."
"Again, very good. To answer your question, Yes, I enjoy my work. I'm very
good at it, and I take a pride in that."
"According to the information you filled out, you're a freelance consultant
currently working for Texlar Industries. I know that firm. I do some work
on occasion for their human relations department."
"I could hardly put the fact that I was an assassin in writing, could I? I
freelance like a consultant, and I am currently fulfilling a contract for
Texlar."
"So you... kill people for a living?"
"Oh, no, Doctor. My family hasn't caused the death of a person in over 175
years."
"That's hardly a good track record for an assassin, I should think."
"An assassin causes a person to cease to exist. When I finish a contract,
the person named does not exist. He just isn't... dead. He was never born."
"I'm afraid I don't understand. Could you explain what you mean." Max held
the pen tightly. This was just the sort of delusion that made an excellent
paper and the man seemed about to give a key clue to the nature of it.
"I have a small ability to change the nature of reality. When I use it, the
person I have contracted to eliminate no longer exists. His past is changed
so that he was born as an entirely different person. No one, including him,
has any memory of his original self."
"If no one remembers the original person, if he never existed, then how do
you know what you did? How does whoever gave you the contract know that you
did it, and that they have to pay you?"
"I... uhh... spoke too quickly. Both I and the person who signed the
contract remember the original reality."
"You eliminate the person by causing them to have been born as someone else.
Am I right; is that what you do?"
"Yes, precisely. You are good, Doctor."
"Just out of curiosity, what sort of person do they become?"
"That's the odd part. I have no control over that. In some cases, they're
a sibling of their original selves. In other cases, they aren't even the
same age or race. There's just one thing in common in all cases."
"And what is that one thing?"
"There's always a change of sex. Males become females, females become
males."
"You've done this to women?"
"Several times. I could give you their original names, but those wouldn't
mean a thing to you."
"I'd know the new names, though?"
"Not in most cases. I will say that Matt Damon and Ben Affleck originally
had a much closer and more physical relationship."
"One of them was a girl? Which one?"
"That, Doctor, would be telling."
"You seem to be doing a lot of telling, Jakov. Shouldn't an assassin be
more secretive?" This was a key. Confront a patient with an inconsistency
in his delusion, and he may begin to see it for the delusion it is."
"Not if he's certain that the person he's telling won't pass on the
information."
"The doctor-patient confidentiality? It may not apply in full if the doctor
has knowledge of a crime that the patient confesses to."
"It's also safe to tell a person if he won't be able to pass on the
information because he won't be himself for very much longer."
"What? Are you saying..." Very good, the patient has adapted the delusion
to include a role for the therapist. This would make an even better paper
than he had thought. The prospect of helping a patient in a case like this
was enough to almost make him giddy.
"Yes, Doctor Leiber. You are my contracted victim."
"May I ask why?"
"You're currently doing a study of the personalities of the senior
management of Texlar. It's for a paper on management styles and individual
psychological profiles, an idea of your own rather than anything the company
would ever have asked you to do."
"Yes, they were kind enough to give me full access to the files of their key
staff provided I don't reveal any personal information. It should be an
interesting paper.
"The problem is that there are things in the files of Donald Weber that he
doesn't want anyone to see."
"Don... Don Weber, the head of the Mid-Atlantic Division."
"Yes. He wouldn't say what was in the files. Frankly, I didn't ask. My
job is to keep you from finding it."
"I suppose he's paying you for it."
"Yes, quite a bit, in fact." Pauli rose to his feet. "Shall we proceed,
Doctor?"
Max rose, choosing to humor the man. "I don't see why not."
"Very well, I promise this won't hurt. Goodbye, Doctor." Pauli drew a
foot-long, pencil-thin silver rod from inside his suit jacket. He pointed
it at Max and mumbled something. It sounded vaguely oriental, though Max
couldn't begin to place it.
Max waited a moment, then another. Nothing seemed to be happening. Now was
time to confront the patient. "I still seem to be here, Jakov. When
does... what!"
The office seemed to fade from sight. The two men stood a few feet apart.
Around them in all directions was a grayness, neither floors, nor walls, nor
ceiling could be seen, nor any sort of furniture.
"It's begun," Pauli said. "Welcome to the space between realities, Doctor.
Since you were never born, your office never existed as such, nor were
either of us ever there."
Max tried to answer, but found himself unable to move or speak. He felt
himself shrinking. It was an odd sensation, a tingling like a mild electric
charge running under his skin. He wouldn't have understood what was
happening, except that Pauli seemed to grow taller.
The sleeves of Max's jacket slid down over his smaller, more delicate
looking hands. He felt the tug, as his hair grew longer, reaching down to
just below his shoulders. If he could have seen it, he would have known
that it was lighter in color, almost blonde, and much less curly than it had
been.
His clothes felt harsher against his skin as it softened, and the male body
hair that covered it faded away. His pants seemed looser, much looser at
the waist, but tighter around his widening hips. He felt something on his
chest rubbing against his shirt, pushing it away from his body.
Max's face looked softer, younger. His beard was gone. His eyebrows
thinned to narrow lines. His nose became smaller, more pug. His lips were
fuller. His brown eyes changed to green, then on to dark blue. His
slightly ruddy complexion lightened to a soft pink color.
His body was much narrower now in the shoulders and trunk. His male angles
were rounding to feminine curves. His legs were longer in proportion to the
rest of his body with lush, white thighs that tapered to a smaller, higher
waist.
The tingling seemed to intensify at his groin. He put a hand against his
crotch. Through his pants, he felt the bulges that were his genitals become
smaller and smaller until they disappeared completely. In a panic, he put a
hand down his pants. He winced as his longer fingernail scratched the
delicate tissue around the vertical slit.
"I... I'm a girl." He still couldn't move but he could speak. His voice
was a high, pleasant alto with a touch of a Southern drawl it hadn't had
before.
"Yes, you are, Doctor, and a very pretty one."
"But... I... I remember who I am. You've failed."
"You're not done yet."
It was true. The girl -- she was barely in her 20s -- twitched as lipstick,
blusher and mascara appeared on her face.
She was still wearing Max's clothes. Now the sleeves shrank away from the
jacket; the sleeves of the shirt following. The two garments fused
together to become a light brown sleeveless woman's blouse. It had a
ruffled front that had been Max's tie a few moments before. She felt his
undershirt shift, giving her now 36-C breasts the support they needed as it
became a silky pale yellow bra.
His male briefs slid up around his hips to become a matching panty. His
socks became sheer as they rose up, joining at his crotch to become a pair
of panty hose. His pants became a single tube of fabric that moved up his
smooth legs to become a brown and yellow plaid skirt. What had been his
oxford shoes were now a pair of solid brown pumps with a two-inch heel.
Color flowed back into their surroundings. They were in an office area
surrounded by some sort of shelves. There was a desk, smaller than the
other between them. Max felt dizzy and sat down in the chair. He closed
his eyes. The dizziness seemed to pass.
Max heard a noise and looked up.
A tall man stood before her. She thought she recognized him from someplace,
but that was silly. Somehow, she just _knew_ that she'd never seen him
before. "Doctor," the man said.
"Doctrow," she corrected him. Her accent stronger, but, after all, she'd
been born and raised in Athens, Georgia. She'd only moved here last year,
right after she got her bachelor's degree in Library Science. "Maxine Lynn
Doctrow. How can I help you?"
"Yes, Ms. Doctrow," the man said. "I've been trying to find out some
information on some of the executives at Texlar Industries. I'm a
stockholder and these days, what with the stock scandals and everything..."
"This library has one of the finest collection of business journal articles
and other related reference materials, including quarterly and annual
reports from most major public corporations. Let me see what I can find for
you. Do you have the names of anyone in particular you want me to look
for?"
"Well, since I live here in Pennsylvania, I thought I'd like to know a bit
more about Don Weber, he's the head of their Mid-Atlantic Division, just as
a start."
"Fine. You sit over there, and I'll put together what materials we have."
"Thank you. Is there someplace I can use a cell phone? I've been doing
some work for a client, and I want to give him a status report. I've just
finished the project."
Aspen
- 13.12.2021
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