I still didn’t know where this was going.
“You’ve known me for a long time, Jack. You know how the Faith has been the only important thing in my life.”
“You and my father,” I added.
He nodded solemnly. “What I see with her … she’s not one of God’s children. Don’t tell her I said that. But there’s no other way to explain it. She has darkness inside of her. And there’s nothing I can do to get rid of it. Her promiscuity is incurable. She won’t listen to me. She won’t listen to anyone else. She never goes to church. She openly laughs at the very idea of religion. Jack, what have I done?”
I was peering into the soul of a man who had no other place to go. I saw that now. He had exhausted everything from religion in a hope to fix whatever was wrong with Angelica—though “fix” wasn’t really applicable in the way you might fix a machine with the right tool. Regardless, that’s how Preacher Tom saw it. Something was wrong with Angelica. She had a loose screw, faulty wiring. She was defective in some manner. And, like a car, she had to be fixed or else she’d never run properly again.
“I’ve never seen a girl like my own daughter. She wears clothes that no girl should ever wear. She flaunts her body, sleeps with boys ten years older than her. Just last week I found a college boy in bed with her. I about lost it. God is my witness to that. It’s like she’s forgotten who she was, who her father is. I can’t stand—”
I had to stop him. “Preacher, what is it you’re looking from me? I can’t administer medicine to her for being promiscuous.” That was the most polite way to say it. “That’s beyond my capabilities. You might try a therapist. There’s one just up the road. Her name is Ann. I can give you her number if you’d like. I personally recommend her. She guarantees your money back if you don’t come back for the next appointment.”
Preacher Tom shook his head. “Words. The Devil has his illusions, and the therapists have their words. They deceit you, twist your head into knots. Angelica would be worse off after seeing some therapist.”
I held my tongue.
“I came to you, Jack. Your father was a best friend to me. There has to be something you can do. Medical science has a pill for everything.”
Yeah, let me just prescribe you some pills to help you fly, I thought. Take two of these with a glass of water and you’ll be touching the clouds! Still, a doctor’s office was an odd place to see a preacher. All that praying had done him no good, apparently.
“There has to be something wrong with her. Fundamentally,” he went on. “Like a disease. An infection. I can’t fathom that this is my actual daughter.”
“How old is she now?”
“Just turned eighteen last September,” he said. “You know how she celebrated her birthday? Filmed herself with a guy from school and put it on the internet. You can’t imagine my embarrassment talking to the principal. It was a miracle she wasn’t expelled.”
I wanted to tell him that this was hopeless. There’s no cure for being a slut—not with medication, anyway. If this were the olden days, I would’ve diagnosed Angelica as having a mental disorder before lobotomizing her. That’s how they did it. Sure, Tom’s daughter would stop being promiscuous at the expense of the rest of her personality. Maybe he would’ve preferred that. Who knows?
Nowadays, the profession of medical science was a little more complicated. Truthfully, I had never come across someone who was sexually active to the extent that Preacher Tom described. It was shocking, sure, but I couldn’t just whip up a prescription without knowing more about Angelica. And even if I had all the information in front of me, what could I do?
Yet, I couldn’t tell Preacher Tom to leave. Coming to my office had been his last hope, that one final thread keeping his sanity in check. If I couldn’t find anything wrong with her—if I couldn’t fix her—then there was nowhere else to go. Tom would have to accept that his daughter liked to partake in debauchery of the biblical sort.
“I can take some blood,” I finally told him. Nothing unusual would be discovered, of course, but maybe it’d lift his spirits temporarily. “I’ll send it to a lab and get a full report. They check for diseases, abnormalities, everything. We can see if something’s wrong.”
Tom’s eyes were already looking a bit brighter. “How long does that take?”
“After it’s drawn? Twenty-four hours.”
“God bless you, Jack. Can you do it before you close today?”
I glanced at my watch. “If she can stop by in the next forty minutes, sure. Taking blood is really quick.” The clinic closed at five, but I was willing to stay a little late to see this through.
The preacher clutched his Holy Bible tighter. “My prayers have been answered. Thank the Lord for a man like you. How come I never see you on Sundays?”
I shrugged. “Not my thing.” I don’t believe.
Preacher Tom left, and I went back to paperwork for the rest of the afternoon. There’d even been a little smile on his face before he exited the office, but I knew it’d be gone tomorrow. I could almost hear the conversation in my head at this very moment. Sorry to tell you this Tom, but the results are back. There’s nothing wrong with your daughter. Her blood is perfectly healthy. She’s just a huge slut. Okay, maybe that last part I would keep to myself.
Angelica stopped by right before closing time. Right away, I knew that whatever Preacher Tom had told me had been completely accurate. The once polite and proper young girl who went to church every Sunday had grown up into a rebellious teenager. She was almost unrecognizable with blonde hair and lipstick. And now you’re thinking: a high school student wearing lipstick? I was asking myself the same question. Oh, but it was worse than that. Angelica’s choice of springtime attire apparently involved the skimpiest clothing possible, including a yellow sleeveless crop top—with a generous amount of cleavage bulging from the neckline—and a pink pleated mini skirt so short that everyone would know what underwear she was wearing if she thought about bending over.
I’d seen girls in porn showing less skin than her. I couldn’t believe the school tolerated her outfit. Or maybe they didn’t. Perhaps Angelica put on some of her favorite clothes as soon as the final bell rang. She was clearly looking to attract attention.
“Okay doc. You wanna prick me real quick and get this over with?” I was apparently keeping her from something more important. “And tell me when you’re gonna do it, because I don’t want to watch. Blood makes me squeamish.”
I washed my hands. “You in a hurry?”
She rolled her eyes. “Nothing you’d know.”
“Just tell me. Your father and I had a very enlightening conversation not long ago. He’s concerned about you.”
She rolled her eyes again. A very practiced gesture. “Bill and the other football boys are getting together tonight and having a few drinks. Big game tomorrow. I want to be there with them.”
“Celebrating before the game even starts? Things have changed since my day.” My day being only fifteen years ago. Still, I had never seen a girl like Angelica when I was in high school. When she roamed the hall, there’d be whispers through the crowd, stories so outrageous that they couldn’t possibly be true, but they were. Except, I figured Angelica wouldn’t be embarrassed by all the gossiping behind her back. From the look of her, she prided herself on being promiscuous. There were no secrets.
“Yeah, is that weird? Just do whatever it is you’re gonna do,” she said.
I was really curious about Angelica and her behavior. Why had she changed so suddenly? According to her father, it had been like a light switch over two years ago. He was probably exaggerating a little. Still, the transformation of Angelica had my interest piqued.
Fortunately, taking blood from someone was nearly a daily event in my schedule, so I grabbed a syringe, tourniquet, and some cotton balls while continuing to ponder this great mystery.
Angelica took a seat. I instructed her to lay her arm down while I wrapped the tourniquet just above the elbow. She made a fis
t while I prepped the region of skin with some alcohol. Once again, all standard stuff. I could probably do this with my eyes closed, but Angelica—or rather, her body—wouldn’t let me consider it. I glanced at her cleavage as the needle went into her arm. She didn’t make a sound as the barrel began to fill with a crimson-colored fluid.
“Oh yeah, I was supposed to warn you about the blood,” I said. “Don’t look.”
I felt the hairs on my neck going stiff, and I knew Angelica was watching me. I happened to look towards her chest again, and one of her fingers was right there, the end of it hooking underneath the fabric and pulling it back. I said nothing as she exposed one of her breasts to me, pulling it right out of her top. She placed her hand upon it, hiding the nipple temporarily before pulling her arm back and letting it slip between her fingers. It was growing rapidly, rising to attention. My eyes were locked onto it as she pinched it and let out a soft moan.
Her other hand came to my crotch.
I blurted out something incomprehensible, saw that I had taken enough blood, and quickly plucked the needle from the skin before covering the tiny hole with a gauze.
“What? You don’t like me? I’ve had older men before. Some older than you, doc.”
I turned away and put all the equipment on the desk. “Please put your clothes back on, Angelica.”
“I felt your boner. Come on. You want to fuck me, don’t you? You’ve wanted to fuck me since I walked in the door. Like, honestly, you’re not bad-looking either, doc. I could take you for a ride. Your wife won’t know. Maybe a blowjob? Blowjobs are good.”
“I’m not married.” I turned around and saw her circling her lips with a finger. That one breast was still hanging out. “Why are you acting like this?”
“You too, huh? That’s what my father always asks me. He can’t understand it. I’ve heard him muttering to people that the Devil is inside me or something stupid like that. This coming from someone that believes in a magical space man who created the world and all the animals on it.”
Well, we have something in common, I thought, as hard as that is to believe.
“Fine. You wanna know the truth?” She covered her breasts again and stood. “One day, I woke up, and I realized that my pussy felt empty. That’s all. It was just really empty, and I needed something inside it. I never felt anything like that before. I told my father I was sick, but really I was inside my bedroom fingering myself over and over again. Had one orgasm right after the other. From that day forward, I realized something. I love sex. I love everything about sex. I’m not ashamed of that, doc. Be who you are, right? If I didn’t follow that advice, I would’ve never known what it was like to have three cocks inside me at once. It’s fucking amazing, by the way. I hope you got enough blood.”
She came over and lightly kissed me on the cheek before leaving. I was too stunned to move for a while after that. The conversation with Preacher Tom had supplied me with a mental image of Angelica, but she in no way compared to the real one. This wasn’t a girl going through a phase. Tom probably hoped that, but it simply wasn’t the truth. Angelica was a true slut, the sort that you only read about and never see in real life. She lived for sex, and only sex. Everything else wasn’t a priority.
And, if I would’ve let her, she would’ve fucked me right here in my office. There was no shame in her eyes, no regret for her actions. She didn’t care that I was older, or that I was a doctor in a clinic. She only saw me as a man wearing too many clothes.
As expected, the blood results came in the following day. Lo and behold, Angelica was a perfectly healthy and normal young woman, at least down at the blood level—which was type B. I scanned the results, looking for any abnormalities not included in the summary. All the blood cell levels were in a healthy range. Her glucose levels were normal. The cholesterol levels were, likewise, nothing out of the ordinary. And so, Preacher Tom would have to hear it from me that Angelica’s blood wasn’t indicative of any complications or diseases.
The second page displayed much of the same, along with a brief table of any mutations or potential disorders. Again, there was nothing that required much attention—except at the bottom. UNKNOWN GENE FOUND.
Unknown gene found? What in the world? Of course, in the twenty-first century, blood tests were mostly computerized. A computer would take a sample of blood and spit out hundreds of pages of information, or condense it into nifty summaries like the one in my hand. Any genetic mutation discovered would be listed on this page, along with the chromosome that the mutation occurred on. Typically, if a mutation was found in the blood, then I’d receive more information.
Here, there were only three words: UNKNOWN GENE FOUND. That wasn’t very helpful.
I told Preacher Tom as much over the phone. It wasn’t a lot to go on, but maybe Angelica did have a genetic abnormality. It was by sheer luck that it had been found in her blood—or a blessing, as Tom said. Was it linked to her erratic sexual behavior? No one could tell him that, not even me. Maybe the computer had misinterpreted the data. Maybe it was a genetic disorder that hadn’t been cataloged into the system yet. Maybe it didn’t mean anything at all. There was no way to know, not without finding others who had the same unknown gene.
Yeah, it was probably nothing. Angelica was just a huge slut, in my professional medical opinion. There was no genetic disorder to cause her to sleep with dozens of men. Preacher Tom wanted a rational explanation for her behavior, but there just wasn’t anything I could tell him.
By Friday, I was ready to put all this behind me. Preacher Tom was adamant about investigating this unknown gene thing, but that was far beyond the capability of a small town clinic. Hell, I was surprised that the blood test report had mentioned anything about genetics in the first place. Usually that sort of thing cost extra.
After closing up the place, I made my way out to the car, waved goodbye at Susan, and imagined which tall bottle of beer I was going to retrieve from the fridge tonight. My mind was made up on a tasty ale when I saw the last person I expected to see standing outside my door.
I rolled down the window. “Angelica? What are you doing here?”
“Seeing if the handsome doctor still remembers me.”
She was donning a cheerleader outfit. Of course. The slut daughter of a preacher would be a cheerleader, wouldn’t she? Images of her in the locker room flashed through my head, her in the center of a crowd of sweaty football players after a game or late afternoon practice. No, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? Then again, she had mentioned doing it with three dudes at once. Damn, if I were still in school, Angelica would be the topic of everyone’s conversation. She was the stuff of legend, that one girl that lives on through rumors for several generations. Years from now, high school seniors would be sharing stories of that one cheerleader who was the biggest slut of them all.
Okay, save Preacher Tom some respect and stop thinking about Angelica like that. It was the least I could do, since there was no medical cure for her promiscuity.
“It’s a little late for an appointment,” I said, placing my keys in the ignition. I was the only car left in the parking lot. “You might get in tomorrow morning before noon. If not, I can see you on Monday.”
She placed a hand on the door. “How about you see me now?”
“Can’t. Door’s locked. You’ll have to—”
Angelica leaned right in and kissed me. I was so taken aback that my lips forgot how to form words. It didn’t help that she stuck her tongue into my mouth. Angelica the slut. I still remembered that first meeting clearly, when she had showed me her breast and grabbed my crotch. That had been the preview. She had displayed an interest in me from the start, and now she had come back to take me as her latest prize. Where was my name on that long list of men? Twentieth? Thirtieth? I didn’t want to think about how many lips had touched hers, or what else her mouth had been wrapped around.
I pushed her away and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. “Angelica, this isn’t appropriate.”
/> “Why? Am I not pretty enough? Do you have higher standards than me?”
In her simplistic mind, it was all about appearance. If she was beautiful, then why was I resisting? Of course, proper adults like me had real reasons to refuse.
“Technically, you’re my patient. You can’t imagine the shit-storm I’d be in if anyone found out about this. And we’re in the clinic’s parking lot.”
She smirked. “Oh please, I’m the princess of discreet. I might’ve even fucked a boy or two in the library, and you know how anal those old ladies are about noise. When the time comes, the time comes, and I like diversity in what cocks go into my mouth. So doc, about that blowjob. Just lean back and let me do the rest.”
The conversation might’ve implied a requirement for mutual consent. If I refused, then Angelica would back away and say no more, right? It wasn’t that easy, not inside the clinic and not here. When I didn’t open the car door, she crawled right in and over my lap. That skirt was real short, and she wasn’t wearing any underwear from the look of it. I don’t know why, by Preacher Tom’s voice came to mind as she plopped herself down into the passenger seat.
I’ve never seen a girl like my own daughter, he was saying. She was a sweet, innocent girl, and then a switch was flipped. She has darkness inside of her.
By the time I looked down, Angelica had already undone my pants. I inhaled sharply and looked through the windshield. Out behind the parking lot was only pasture, so no one was going to see us. The relief I felt was like a quick stab in the back. I had told Preacher Tom that I was going to find out what was wrong with his daughter—a fool’s errand, but somewhat honest at the time. Now she was in the front seat of my car trying to give me a blowjob!
“I fingered myself that night,” she said, massaging the growing bulge in my briefs and then slipping her fingers underneath. “What if you didn’t refuse? We could’ve fucked on your desk. Doggy style. If you were good, I’d even let you put a finger in my ass. I love letting guys really use me, like hard and stuff. I want to feel worn out after sex, like I’m completely drained on the inside. There’s nothing like it.”
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