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Lindy's Anger by G-Boy



Lindy's Anger


Belinda 'Lindy' Carter slowly staggered out of Ms. Rene's office, and hoisted herself into her Jeep. The petite girl's body ached, especially her back and legs. The physical therapist had pushed her really hard today, claiming the only thing that was holding her recovery back was her. It was already getting dark, and she was so tired, she was sure she'd have no trouble falling asleep tonight. She wished she'd called Cindy and asked her to come with her, Cindy could drive her. The earlier visit to her psychologist had been an emotionally frustrating one, and then Ms. Rene had to go Nazi on her, barking orders and demanding more vigorous leg lifts, faster trots on the treadmill.

Ms. Rene watched the girl from her office window. She wanted to go outside and apologize to the girl. She knew she'd been unusually rough on the little girl, and it probably hadn't helped the little girl's spirits one bit. She pushed her glasses down from her short red hair, and made notes on Lindy Carter's progress. Really, the fact that the girl was walking at all was a miracle, the bullet that had nicked her spinal column could have put the girl in a wheelchair for life, but two months after the shooting, she was walking and driving her standard transmission Jeep.

Lindy was a sixteen-year-old student at Asbury High School, a public high school that recruited its students from among the best and brightest that the surrounding districts had to offer. It boasted the highest graduation rate in Louisiana, higher even than the expensive parochial schools. Parents put their children on a lengthy waiting list to get in, as they only accepted three hundred students every year. In an economic crunch, Mr. Ritter, the school principal had admitted one extra student, Kelly Pays. The sullen seventeen year-old girl's parents had slipped a ten thousand dollar check on his desk for admitting their troublesome girl in. She'd taken one look at Adam Potter, an athletic and handsome teenager, and decided she wanted him. Lindy was friends, lovers actually, with Cindy Potter, Adam's younger sister. Because of her close relationship with the two siblings, Kelly had mistaken Lindy to be Adam's girlfriend, and shot her. The truth was that Adam was gay had never come out, but Lindy had spent five weeks in a hospital bed recuperating from three bullet wounds. One had punctured her lung, her left breast still sported an angry red welt from that one, another had pounded into her stomach and nicked the spinal column, she looked like she had two belly buttons from that scar. The third had slammed into her left ear, and had damaged her hearing and her speech, as well as her sense of balance.

She was a beautiful little girl, with a pale round face that held two large dark eyes and small nose and tiny mouth. Her long dark hair was now combed over her torn left ear, to hide the scars. Her four foot ten inch frame had an impressive thirty eight-D cup chest, a twenty inch waist, and thirty seven inch hips. As someone had once noted, "Looks like someone pinched her in half and the two halves forgot to grow back together."

She hadn't always been beautiful. From as early as she could remember, she'd been the short fat kid with the frizzy hair and thick glasses. Puberty had only added big blotchy pimples to her already unattractive features, and she had been ridiculed and tormented throughout school. Then, in the seventh grade, Cindy Potter, a beautiful blonde with heart shaped face, big blue eyes and pouting lips, had invited her to a birthday party. Cindy had invited the entire class, but Belinda had been thrilled to be included. She'd been even more thrilled when Cindy had held her hand tightly for the entire party. Cindy had felt that she had no choice but to hold Belinda tightly; her brother and even a few of her friends had threatened Belinda with bodily harm if she showed up at the party. She didn't like Belinda any more than they did, but the sweet girl hated to see anyone left out of the fun. In Physical Education class, her teams always comprised of the worst atheletes, even though Cindy was very athletic, and very competitive. She gained a life long friend and admirer in Belinda Carter, and had touched the fat little girl's life, even though it would be five years before she'd know about it. At the end of the school year, Mr. Carter, a construction project manager, announced that the Carter family was moving to Arizona. In the dry heat of Arizona, Belinda began a rigorous diet and exercise program, took an interest in her mother's makeup and hairdressing skills, and threw the glasses away in favor of contact lenses. A beautiful young woman stepped out from behind the wall of flab, but Belinda was still ostracized by her peers. Girls were threatened and boys were intimidated by her beauty and physique. When Mr. Carter announced, just before her senior year, that they were moving back home, both Belinda and her mother breathed a silent prayer that Cindy Potter would still be in town. Her grades were exceptional, so she was admitted to Asbury. And, Cindy Potter was in four of her seven classes.

The first week she was back in town, Cindy invited her over to spend the night. She went and covertly watched as Cindy dressed in her swimsuit. Cindy's thirty six-C cup breasts, with their dark pink nipples, her thirty inch waist and her thirty four inch hips that flared into her long legs filled Belinda with desire. Cindy's firm buttocks didn't jiggle when she walked, they swayed. Belinda had to choke back a moan of excitement when Cindy turned around and revealed a hairless pussy mound. For her part, Cindy was entranced by Belinda's large breasts with their large nipples, her slim belly, and her full, round buttocks. They'd swam, and checked each other out. With a few pointed questions and suggestions, the two girls gave in to their impulses, and became lovers. Cindy's guilt was compounded when Belinda confessed her love for her, but by morning, Cindy was confessing her own love for Lindy, her pet name for Belinda.

The girl started her car and struggled to keep the clutch in and backed out of the parking lot. The Jeep died twice before she made it to the street, and Ms. Rene almost went outside to see of Lindy was alright. With a roar, Lindy pulled out of the parking lot, and raced out of sight. Rene MacKeenan got up and went to the security monitor. She'd had the security system installed, to tape each and every proceedure, ever since a colleague of hers had been sued by a disgruntled client, that claimed his neck injury had been worsened by the therapy. Even after the client had been caught lying about the extent of his injuries, the therapist's reputation had been ruined. If Rene was ever sued, she'd have her tapes to back up her claim. She rewound the tape to the beginning of the hour. There she was, Lindy in her black leotard, leg straining to reach the barre. Rene moaned and slipped a finger into the crotch of her own leotard. The carmera caught the slim strip of material as it stretched over Lindy's spread crotch. The globes of those magnificent buttocks were visible in the mirror behind them. Her lovely tits were smashed down, but the erect nipples still poked through the heavy sports bra. Then Rene watched herself on the tape, hand underneath that smooth thigh, urging the girl's leg higher. Another finger joined the first one as she watched the pair on television. She unsnapped her leotard's crotch and rubbed her sopping cunt lips and watched. The little girl's face was contorted with effort; Rene imagined it contorted in orgasm. She fast forwarded to the leg splits. Those magnificent buttocks pressed firmly against the mat were visible in the mirror, Rene ached to run a hand between them. Her orgasm shuddered as she watched the thin strip of material part, and Lindy's dark curls peeked out at her, along with a tiny sliver of deep pink labia. She dubbed the hour's session onto a second tape, along with the tape of Megan Wertmuller, a nineteen year old blond automobile accident victim's session. Her face was almost pretty as Lindy's, but her body was stunning, and she had made some subtle overtures to Rene. The outfits she wore for her workouts were becoming more and more revealing. She dropped the tape in her purse, and wrapped her skirt around her waist. She felt naughty for not snapping her leotard's crotch shut, and giggled to herself.

Jake Carter's heart wrenched as he watched his little girl struggle out of her Jeep. She looked so tired, so fragile and he wanted to go outside and help her up the short flight of steps, but knew she would rankle at the offer. She was a determined little girl, the determination borne out of years of isolation and ridicule. Just because she was popular now, did not mean she let up on herself. He watched as she gripped the handrail, and swung one leg, then the other, up the steps to the front door. He held his breath as she let go of the rail and lunged for the doorknob. He sighed as she grabbed the knob and opened the door. Her smile was weak as she greeted her father.

"Hi, Dah yee," she huffed.

He grimaced inside. The speech therapy was working, albeit slowly. When she'd come out of the coma, her speech had been nothing more than grunts and wheezes. It seemed like the only one that could understand her and hold conversations with her had been Cindy. Being called 'Dah yee' would have been sweet had she been sixteen months old, not sixteen years old.

"Hi, sweetheart," he smiled. "Look tired."

She nodded her head yes, and put her heavy booksack down on the kitchen table.

"I yam, har day," she huffed.

"Supper's ready, Mommy's out with Miss Cathy, getting the wedding stuff done."

He watched as Lindy tried to feed herself. Her hand-eye coordination was improving, but the simple meal of spaghetti was creating a mess of her pretty face. For not the first time ever since the shooting, he wished Kelly dead. What the selfish teenage girl had done to his beautiful little girl was heart wrenching. Even the one million dollars in compensatory and extra one million in punitive costs didn't seem like it was enough. She wouldn't sleep at night without a light on, her bed had to be filled with stuffed animals to protect her, and still she woke up at nights, screaming in fear. She pushed his hand away when he tried to wipe her mouth clean, and smeared a napkin across the tomato sauce. She picked up her plate.

"I'll get that," he offered.

"No!" she snapped.

He watched as she carrried her plate to the sik an rinsed it. Then she clumsily shoved it into the dishwasher.

"I'm goin' bed. Night, Dah yee," she murmured, and took her heavy booksack down the basement stairs. When they'd moved into this house, Belinda had asked if she could have the basement, she'd never been in a basement before. Mr. Carter, having taken an early retirement, and started his own sonstruction company, had plenty of resources and manpower to convert the basement into a little girl's dream. Her room was large and pink, her bathroom was the envy of those few who got to see it. The wall that abutted the stairs was mirrored; the mirrors slid apart to reveal a closet. The other wall was a long vanity, with recessed lighting. The best feature was a huge bathtub he'd gotten for free from a plumber that wanted Mr. Carter's business. It was a claw foot type, with curved taps, and hand held shower faucet. When she sat in it, you could barely see the top of her head over the rim of it.

Upon her return from the hospital, Jake had wanted to put her in a spare bedroom upstairs, but she'd been mortified at the idea of losing her private haven. And, as Paula Carter told her husband, "What's the difference? Upstairs, basement, she's still going to have stairs to climb up and down." She drew herself a hot bath, and sat in the steamy water and cried. She and Cindy had come to blows that morning; Lindy was jealous of Cindy's involvement with some new guy, Jason Reynolds, a blind student. She had her own boyfriend, Brian Jacobson, a scrawny red head that loved ant adored her. She was, truth be known, afraid that Cindy would find someone that needed her more than she did. She was afraid of losing her lover to someone else. She'd actually punched Cindy. Mr. Ritter and Coach Shedley had pulled the two girls apart, and looking back at the fight, she realized that Cindy had not struck back, even in self-defense. She'd merely tried to hold Lindy tightly. In Mr. Ritter's office, they'd had two Expulsion Forms slapped down in front of them. They'd cried and begged to not be thrown out of the school, and he had relented. They'd apologized to each other, but Lindy was still hurting inside from her own anger at the one person she'd never thought she'd ever get angry with. She'd sat in Dr. Mizelle's office and cried and tried to explain to him why this hurt her so much, but the old man seemed to be hung up on the sexual relationships she was involved in; with Cindy and Brian. His only topic of interest seemed to be in forcing her to choose between Brian or Cindy. He said that her anger toward Cindy's involvement was displaced guilt toward her promiscuity. She wanted to stop seeing him and find another therapist, but how could she explain to her parents that she didn't like a doctor that wanted her to be either straight or lesbian, preferably straight? She scrubbed the sweat of the day from her sore body and dragged herself over the rim of the tub. Sitting on the fluffy rug, she dried herself and pulled her favorite nightgown on, a sheer black full slip that Cindy had given to her. She fell into her bed and was asleep within minutes. Even the small lamp light could not puncturing her eyelids with its glow.

Cindy was standing in front of her, teasing and taunting her. She was laughing at Lindy's slurred speech and calling her 'Baby Talk.' She was slapping Lindy and saying, "I don't love you anymore." Everyone was standing around and laughing at her. Someone started chanting "Belinda, Belinda, big fat Belinda!" Cindy's eyes went from the beautiful blue to Kelly's hateful green. Lindy was very afraid of those eyes.

Suddenly, Lindy was holding a large gun. Cindy kept taunting her, and Lindy pulled the trigger. With a boom, blood spurted out of Cindy's chest. She wasn't laughing any more, and Lindy pulled the trigger again. Cindy's stomach ripped open and she began to fall. The next boom caused Cindy's head to explode in a mass of blood and brains.

Jake and Paula heard Lindy's screams up on the second floor of their home.

"No, Cinny! I din't mean it! Wae up, Cinny!"

"You going to see if she's okay?" Jake mumbled to his petite wife.

"Yeah," she mumbled back, and slipped out of bed.

Lindy looked at the clock through tear blurred eyes. 10:10. Cindy was probably still up. She pushed aside the stuffed animals and staggered across the room to her telephone. She jabbed out the number and Cindy answered on the third ring.

"Hello?" the sweet voice asked.

Lindy sighed with relief. She hadn't killed her. It had just been a horrible dream.

"Cinny? This id Linny. You come ober?" Lindy begged.

"Lindy, what's wrong?" Cindy asked, concern deep in her voice.

"I ha a bad deem," Lindy sobbed. "You come ober? Peas?"

"I'll be right there," Cindy promised, and hung up.

She shoved a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt into her booksack. She smiled wryly to herself. She wouldn't need to pack underwear, she had two or three pair of panties, and at least two bras in Lindy's drawer. Her mother, Cathy Potter, stuck her head into her daughter's bedroom.

"Lindy had a bad deem, dream, I'm going over there, okay?" she explained.

"You going to run over there every time she calls?" Cathy asked.

"Yes," Cindy snapped.

"Honey, I know you love her, but..." Cathy stumbled for the right words.

"Mom, if I'd been the one shot, she'd be over here, every day," Cindy yelled.

"Have fun," her mother snapped back, and disappeared.

Sam Villeaux, her fiancee, wasn't much help either. She grubmled about her daughter being at Lindy's beck and call, and Sam just asked her what she would do if Lindy needed her.

"I'd, I'd, I'd run over there, too," Cathy admitted.

"Really, your only problem with this, is that they're lovers, isn't it?" Sam quietly asked.

"No! Yes. I just don't think," she said.

"They're sweet girls. No drugs, not running out and getting knocked up. They love each other, simple as that. Leave them be," he said, and rolled over.

"She calls you Dad, now. You know that?" she asked him.

"Yeah," he smiled. "She said she's too old for a Daddy, but not too old for a Dad."

"Want to be my daddy?" she asked him and snuggled up against his back.

"Honey bunny, It's late," he smiled. The baby was just beginning to show, and he felt the paunch against his back. It was quarter after ten, and he had to be up at five the next morning for a drug raid in the Gardens, but he knew she would make him play Daddy anyway. The pregnancy seemed to have increased her already high sex drive.

"Pwease?" she baby talked.

"Want a spanking?" he smiled.

"Ooo! And, then you can take my temperature?" she squealed.

When he'd met Cathy Potter at a banquet five and a half years ago, he'd been smitten at once by the then thirty three year old woman. She was tall, five foot ten, and slim, with a healthy body and a sharp mind. She was not impressed by his Captain's bars, or the fact that he was a fifteen year veteran of the police force. She was, however, impressed with his banking knowledge, coming from a wealthy family will do that. They talked, on and off, for a few months, but she wasn't interested in dating anyone just yet. Their first date was actually chaperoning a birthday party for her daughter. Sam watched as the beautiful twelve-year-old dragged a fat blob around the backyard.

"Is that little fat kid her best friend or something?" he'd asked Cathy, surprised that such a pretty little girl would associate with such an unattractive kid.

"No, I've never seen her before," Cathy said. "Let me tell you something aout Cindy. She wants everybody to feel special, so..."

Through the kid's pimples and thick glasses, Sam could see Belinda's adoring looks and her happy smiles.

"Seems to be working," he admitted.

"That's Cindy," Cathy laughed.

They'd made love that night. Sam was surprised at her voracious appetite, and finally, the thirty seven year old had to beg for respite. That was the first time he'd ever had anal sex. He'd heard of it, of course. In fifteen years of police work, there wasn't much he hadn't heard of, but he'd never experienced spreading a woman's lovely buttocks, and sliding a greasy cock into such a tight, clutching hole. He'd heard the grunts and groans that she shouted into her pillow, and stopped.

"Don't stop!" she hissed. "Ram it!"

Even though he'd already come in her pussy, the hot friction, and the idea of doing something so forbidden caused him to come again in just a few strokes. She sighed happily, then wanted more.

"Daddy? Will you take my temperature?" she sing-songed to him, and his cock sprang to life.

"Want a spanking, too?" he asked.

"Well, first see if I deserve one," Cathy laughed and rolled onto her knees.

Sleep would have to wait. A pregnant woman wanted some attention.

Cindy had never noticed how tired Paula Carter looked before. The woman's eyes were puffy and haggard. Lindy stood in the small kitchen with her mother and they made hot chocolate, Lindy's one holdover from her earlier days of sweets and food binges, the foods she used to stuff into herself, to fill the emptiness inside.

"I can do that, Miss Paula," Cindy offered.

Paula smiled up into Cindy's face. She'd never noticed how tired the teenager looked, but Cindy's normally beautiful face was worn. She shook her head no.

"No, it's almost ready. Why don't you two girls go downstairs, and I'll bring it right down?" she suggested.

Lindy and Cindy exited the small kitchen, and Paula quickly took the small capsule from her robe's pocket. Breaking it open, she poured the contents into the black mug, Lindy's favorite mug. It had a picture of a ballet dancer on it, Lindy had dreamed of being a ballerina when she was younger, as most girls do. The onset of puberty, and her body's development, and her lack of height had made it nothing more than a fantasy, but she still enjoyed watching the ballet, and she enjoyed dancing. The capsule was a very potent sleeping medicine that Dr. Mizelle had prescribed, for the nights that Lindy just couldn't sleep. This seemed to be one of those nights. Her earlier exhaustion was gone, now she was a jittery mess. Into a mug that Lindy had insisted was Cindy's, a white one with a baby angel on it, she poured straight hot chocolate. She made sure that the hot liquid dissolved any traces of the medication in the black one, before turning to bring the girls their beverages. She made sure that Lindy got the black mug, and kissed both girls good night. In a single gulp, Lindy drank half of the mug down.

"I phelt so bad, phighting wif you," she told Cindy. "I lub you."

"I know, honey, I know," Cindy said, and cuddled up with her.

Lindy drained her mug and kissed Cindy, first just a peck on the lips, then her mouth opened and the two gently kissed. Cindy sucked her lover's tongue into her mouth and tasted the hot chocolate. She pulled away and gently licked the brown mustache that decorated Lindy's upper lip. Lindy's fingernails raked her face.

"Ow! Damn, Lindy! You need to trim those fingernails!" Cindy exclaimed.

"I know. I tied, but it wa' too har'," she whined.

"Get me the scissors," Cindy said.

Lindy dug around in her makeup tray, and found the nail scissors and file. Cindy got the garbage can from the bathroom and squatted down on the floor next to the bed. She took Lindy's left hand, and tried to manipulate the small scissors around the small nail.

"This is too hard. Hold on," she said, and got to her feet.

She climbed up into the bed and wrapped her legs around Lindy's waist. She reached over Lindy's shoulders and grabbed the left hand again. From her position behind Lindy, she was able to pretend that she was trimming her own nails and rapidly trimmed the left hand. She licked Lindy's bare shoulder, and took the right hand into hers. She made quick work of it, even though Lindy was rubbing her ample buttocks against her crotch. She groaned, it had been so long since they'd been able to do more than kiss and gently masturbate each other to mild orgasms. She longed to have Lindy's long hair tickling her thighs as her small tongue and mouth licked and sucked at her hairless pussy. She hungered to taste Lindy's musky cunt, and to ram her fingers deep into her lover's wet pussy. But, Ms. Rene had said that they needed to wait a little while longer, until Lindy's body could take such concentrated tension. She dropped the scissors into the makeup tray and cupped Lindy's full breasts in her hands. The nipples were half erect, only an inch long. She kissed her lover's face, and ran her fingers gently up Lindy's thighs. Lindy leaned back into her, and she nuzzled her right ear as her fingers reached Lindy's damp pubic hair.

"Baby? I need to tell you something," Cindy whispered in her ear.

She felt Lindy's body tense up in anticipation.

"I know you don't like Jason, but..."

"I don'! He mae phun of me!" Lindy whined.

"I know, sweet heart, but he didn't know any better. Can't you forgive him for not knowing?" Cindy pleaded.

Lindy twisted in her lover's arms and glared into Cindy's pleading eyes.

"You phuck him, din't you?" she snapped.

Cindy had agreed to give Jason Reynolds, a new student at Asbury, a ride home. He was a good looking, tall boy, with sandy brown hair and pretty green eyes. He was also completely blind. Cindy had rankled at his smug attitude and smart mouth, as well as his obvious attempts to garner pity. But, alone in her truck, she got through his fašade, and saw the scared little boy inside. She felt the same tug at her heart that she'd felt whenever someone needed a little attention, a little love.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, she'd taken his ten inch uncircumcised cock into her mouth, and within seconds, was swallowing his come. His gentle touches and strokes had her coming before he even brought his lips to her hairless mound. When he plunged his large prick into her, she'd never felt so full before. They'd made love, slowly, sweetly.

"Lindy, I..."Cindy began.

Lindy lunged at her, small fists curled up. Tears streamed down her face. Cindy grabbed her lover's fists and they silently wrestled on the large bed.

"You goin' leab me!" Lindy hissed through her tears.

"Lindy! I'm not!" Cindy quietly protested.

"Pose he neez you more an me?" Lindy sobbed.

"Baby, I love you!" Cindy protested.

"An you won' nee me no more!" the tears were streaming down.

"I'll always need you! Please, Lindy! Stop it!" Cindy said, her own tears falling.

"An I ways nee you, Cinny," Lindy cried.

Cindy managed to pin Lindy to the bed, and gently kissed her teary face. Lindy stopped struggling and hugged Cindy tightly. Cindy kissed her deeply, her hands tugging the hem of the gown up.

"I lub you, Cinny," Lindy yawned. "Don' eber leab me, peas."

"I won't. Never," Cindy groaned as she parted Lindy's fleshy lips and felt the wetness.

She slept soundly. Lindy had fallen asleep, sitting up in her arms, and she'd contented herself with masturbation, and then cuddled up against Lindy's back. Jake Carter gently touched her shoulder, and she rolled over and smiled up at the man.

"Good morning, sweet heart," he smiled at her. "Miss Paula's got breakfast ready for you."

"Morning, Mr. Carter," she said, then clambered under the sheet.

She was nude underneath the sheet. Lindy still had her nightgown on, but Cindy had gotten warm, sleeping so close to such a warm body, she'd shrugged her own gown off. She shook Lindy gently, to wake her, but the girl didn't respond.

"The medication," Jake explained. "You could light a firecracker in her belly button, she wouldn't move."

With that, he left the room. Cindy waited until the door closed before climbing out of the bed. Lindy didn't move, her breathing slow and even. Cindy leaned over and gently kissed the small girl's cheek, and struggled into her panties, bra, jeans and sweatshirt. She grabbed her booksack and trotted up the steps.

"Cindy, we really appreciate you coming over last night," Paula started.

"Oh, it's all right," Cindy said, and wolfed down the pancakes.

"But, Dr. Mizelle says, it may be best to let Lindy try to work through these night fears on her own," Paula continued.

The fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Cindy looked at the woman.

"What? You don't want me to come over her anymore?" Cindy started to wail.

"No, no, that's not it at all, dear. Good God, no! We're so lucky to have you!" Paula protested. "But, honey, Lindy needs to learn to deal with some, not all, but some of this on her own."

"But, but..." Cindy sputtered.

"Honey, have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?" Paula asked gently.

"Yeah, I combed my hair this morning," Cindy said, puzzled.

"You look so tired, sweet heart. You need a good night's sleep, not staying up half the night baby sitting," Paula gently said. "Now, I've already called Mr. Ritter, but I need you to take a note to Miss Trahan, explaining that Lindy won't be in school again today."

"The medication really knocks her out, huh?" Cindy commiserated.

"Yeah. I'm thinking seriously of switching Doctors. This one doesn't seem to be helping a whole lot," Paula murmured.

Cindy wished she would. Lindy had told her about their sessions, and Cindy thought the man was an anal retentive son of a bitch that didn't like anyone having more sex than him. Plus that, the medication seemed to be hurting, not helping. She finished her pancakes, and got to her feet. She hugged the small woman tightly.

"It's Friday. Can I spend tonight here?" she begged.

"We'll see, dear," Paula murmured, and hated herself immediately. "Yes, Honey, come over."

Lindy was livid when she did finally wake up. Although drugged, her sleep had been filled with anxious thoughts, and she was upset to miss yet another day of school. She was surly and short tempered with her mother, who then called Dr. Mizelle's office, but the doctor wouldn't see her daughter on such short notice. She hung up on Dr. Mizelle's unsympathetic receptionist and looked through the telephone book. She found a name that she recognized, from a book show on Public Television, and called Dr. Susan Connely. Her receptionist didn't act harried or uninterested. She took down some pertinent information, then passed Paula right through to Dr. Connely.

Doctor/patient confidentiality was not Dr. Mizelle's strong suit, especially when the patient was younger than twenty one. He'd felt it prudent to inform Paula that her daughre was not only sexually active, or at least she had been prior to the shooting, but that the little trollop was sleeping with both sexes. Paula had not been as surprised, or as upset as Dr. Mizelle had hoped, she had suspected that Cindy and Lindy were more than good friends. Brian Jacobson, Lindy's scrawny red head boyfriend was such a sweet boy, she wasn't worried about him using her daughter, then breaking her heart. She hadn't put her little girl on the pill upon her thirteenth birthday as a joke; she knew about adolescent urges. Dr. Mizelle had tried to tell her the graphic details, about her daughter's oral skills, her sensitive large nipples, but Paula had cut him short.

"What she does, as long as she's not being foolish about it, is none of my business. She's not coming to see you about her promiscuity, she's coming to you because another girl tried to kill her, over a boy that Lindy's never slept with, and now she has fears and bad dreams," Paula firmly stated.

Even so, it was sometimes hard to look Cindy in the eyes, even though the blue eyes had not changed, except to glow with more love and devotion. It was sometimes hard to look into her little girl's large dark pools, that innocent little girl, and not feel a flash of anger. About what, she wasn't sure. But, the good doctor wasn't making much headway with Lindy.

Doctor Mizelle was very upset when Doctor Connely called him and requested Belinda Carter's files. He rankled at any patient leaving his care, and was embittered toward Dr. Susan Connnely; she believed that the patient was their own best doctor. The fact that the blonde doctor, thirty years his junior, had already had three books published, and was hailed as a very effective natural healer, and was now taking away a patient of his angered him even more.

"Fine. I'll send them right over," he muttered.

"I'll send my secretary over to pick up the file. The whole file," she reminded him.

She smiled in satisfaction as she heard the connection abruptly terminated. She knew Dr. Mizelle's reputation from two former patients and from a few run-ins. His biggest hangup was sex, and he was loath to part with that pertinent information. She didn't like the pompous ass; he took too long to delve into the patient's psyche, transferring his own frustration onto them, but felt himself superior to them. For herself, she felt it was best to get down to the patient's level, not stand over them in mock superiority. She wondered how many patients he would get, if they knew about his fetish for wearing women's undergarments. She'd seen the outline of a bra under his too tight dress shirts at more than one conference, and had even told him, before he stood to lecture a gathering, not to remove his snug jacket, the black would be very visible underneath the white shirt. He'd kept tugging at the too small jacket, but kept it on for his lengthy, and rambling lecture.

She hoped she'd be able to help the girl. She'd of course seen the sensational coverage the media had given the tragic shooting at a local high school, and followed the stories of her lingering close to death, then her recovery. She'd gone to her church and put a one hundred dollar bill into the Children's Fund, in gratitude to God for sparing the lovely little girl, at least for a little while longer. She'd been so pleased to talk to Paula Carter about seeing the girl, and ground her teeth when Mizelle's name was brought up.

"And, money's no object," Paula insisted. "The girl's father had to pay us..."

"Ma'am, I don't care about money," Susan said. "I have plenty enough. We'll start you off on our fifty dollar rate, how's that?"

"Fifty? But, Dr. Mizelle's fee is one hundred and ten!" Mrs. Carter had exclaimed.

"Yes, well, I'd rather see the patient, not the patient's wallet," Susan muttered. "Not everyone can afford Dr. Mizelle's fees, but everyone needs a little help every now and then."

Sarah brought the girl's charts in, and Susan read it avidly over her tena fish sandwich. The Catholic Church may have decreed that it was now okay to eat meat on Fridays, but she still stuck to the old principles. She almost choked when she read the prescription Dr. Mizelle had given the girl. She was only four foot ten, at one hundred and three pounds, but the prescription was large enough for a six foot tall, two hundred pound man.

"Son of a bitch's lucky the girl didn't slip back into a coma," she snarled.

She bristled at his notes that mocked or ridiculed the girl's speech impediment. She smiled at his copious notes on the girl's sexuality. So, the girl's bisexual, big deal. She suspected that, beside being a closet cross dresser, that Mizelle was suppressing his own homosexuality, the fact that this girl was able to act out on her impulses, and be happy with it must have really burned him.

She smiled warmly at the small girl's frightened face. She was beautiful, all that dark hair and those dark eyes on such a pale face. She admired the girl's phenomenal figure, the large breasts, the tiny waist, the full hips. For her part, Lindy looked at the warm brown eyes in the square face, and felt reassured. Susan Connely was a tall woman, five foot nine, and one hundred and thirty pounds. Her breasts were a medium sized, her waist was a little thick, her hips weren't much wider than her waist, but she was an attractive woman in her early thirties.

They sat down, not with Lindy across the room and the doctor hidden behind a desk, but with their knees almost touching, face to face. Susan smiled broadly when she saw that Lindy's feet didn't reach the ground.

"It's hard being small sometimes, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah," Lindy admitted and smiled.

"Lindy is a nickname for Belinda, right?" Susan went on.

"Well, in a way. See, my best fend's name is Cinny, and I'm Linny. See? Cinny an Linny," Lindy told her.

"Tell me, what's the first thing you feel about when you think of being Lindy," she said. "Rather than being Belinda."

"I, I, I feel lubbed," Lindy blushed, a pretty pink in the pale white face and throat.

And that horse's ass wanted this girl to deny her feeling loved?

"Cinny called me that, Linny, the first time, the first time, uh, we, you know, we mae lub," Lindy blushed a deeper pink.

The girl said, "made love," not "fucked," or "had sex." That must have really gripped Dr. Mizelle's short and curlies.

"Then, is it all right if I call you Lindy?" she asked. "Or, is that a special name?"

The lips tried hard to form the words. "No, call me Linny. Ebee body ess does."

She smiled. "But, it is a special name, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I tink it speshul," Lindy nodded.

Through the lisping and spittle laden thick speech of Lindy's, Susan listened to the girl's tale of transformation from unloved child to Cindy's kindness through the rigorous diet and exercise to the first night in Cindy's arms. From that first night of feeling another's love for her, she was reborn Lindy, and had embraced the identity of being a loved and lovable girl, and had no desire to ever be the painful Belinda ever again.

And Mizelle labeled this as avoidance of her true identity.

"An den I gah chot, an I most died," Lindy was loudly protesting, her little hands flailing about, her lips dripping with spittle from the exertion of trying to speak rapidly. "And I din't do nofing!"

"And, when that happened, did you feel like Belinda again?" Susan gently asked her.

The little girl's large eyes went even larger.

"Yeah! Dat's it! I wa Belinna all ober again!" she said, and started to sob piteously. "An I wa all lone an nobody lubbed me no more!"

Susan was a professional, but she felt like there were times that professionalism had to be sacrificed for the good of the patient. She pulled the sobbing girl into her matronly lap and held the young girl tightly.

"Sh! Sh! It's over now! You're still Lindy, loved Lindy loved Lindy," she crooned over and over into the child's right ear.

The girl might be sixteen, a few weeks short of seventeen, but in so many ways, Lindy would always be that unhappy fat little girl that had starved and stuffed herself for a friend.

"I wa show scared inna hopital," Lindy sobbed. "Cinny wa my Anal."

Susan had to think for a moment before she could translate 'Anal' into 'Angel.' She bit back the smile, the girl didn't need to have her speech laughed at.

"And, you're an Angel, too," she murmured. "A sweet Angel of God, put here on earth to love and to be loved."

Lindy finally pulled away and looked into the warm, teary eyes. Susan reached the box of tissues and dabbed at Lindy's face. Lindy grabbed a tissue and clumsily dabbed at Susan's eyes. They smiled warmly at each other.

"I'm afraid our time is up," Susan said, sadly.

Lindy looked at the clock on the desk.

"It been up," she said with surprise.

"Yes, well, sometimes an hour isn't long enough, is it?" Susan smiled and set the girl down on the floor. "Before you go, I want you to take this prescription, and have it filled. The next sleepless night, take one of these. One. And throw out that crap Dr. Mizelle gave you."

"You mean, Dokker Miz a bell?" Lindy smiled.

"Miz a... I like that. Doctor Miserable. Yes," Susan smiled.

She watched the girl stumble from her office. The step was not as halting as it had been an hour and twenty minutes ago. She caught a glimpse of a heart shaped face under thick blonde hair and pouting lips parted into a large smile. She wondered if that was the Angel Cindy. As the two left the waiting room, hand in hand, she knew that it had to be Cindy. She understood why the girl's love was so important to Lindy.

"But, you wouldn't let her have her Angel, would you, Dr. Miserable?" she muttered. "Arrogant son of a bitch."

Rene wasn't happy. Lindy's visit had been what she was waiting for, all day long, and she brought her lover with her. She knew that Lindy and Cindy were lovers, she'd walked into the hospital room and caught Cindy's mouth sucking one of Lindy's large nipples with Lindy's hand burrowed under Cindy's skirt. She'd quietly backed out of the room, then made a great deal of noise in returning. Lindy had been sitting up in bed, a pretty blush over her pale features, and Cindy had scurried into the bathroom. The smell of female arousal had been heavy, intoxicating in the air. And, the blonde bitch was sitting down, watching intently as Rene pushed Lindy through her routines. Her favorite time, the leg lifts, was spoiled because she couldn't freely run a hand along that shapely thigh as she helped lift it to the barre. Splits was better, she could watch the thin leotard's material crawl between those fantastic ass cheeks, and knew that the carmera would show plenty of pubic hair, and possibly hard nipples. She daringly slipped behind Lindy, doing her own splits, as she urged the girl on.

"That's it! Bend. At the waist," she praised.

The material of the leotard's crotch was firmly imbedded between those cheeks, and Rene itched to scrape her fingernails over the taut flesh. As the girl bent forward, Rene groaned. The position lifted the girl's pubic mound into view, the material pushed aside by the strain. Her pussy lips gaped open, and Rene could smell the musk and sweat of Lindy's exertions.

"And, hold it," she urged.

She hoped her voice had not belied her excitement. But, if it had, neither Lindy or Cindy showed any reaction to it. Lindy counted out loud to five, then slowly came back up and raised her arms above her head, palms together. The camera captured her half erect nipples. She bent forward again and tried to touch her palms to the floor. The material stretched and strained, and Rene had to restrain herself from reaching down and cupping the pubic mound that was exposed to her anxious eyes. Three more floor touches, and Lindy slowly got to her feet. She saw her exposed crotch in the mirror and blushed a delightful pink as she pulled the twisted material straight. A few trots on the treadmill pulled the material taut again, and Rene was rewarded with a few more glimpses of the girl's fleshy buttocks. As Lindy wobbled toward the changing room, Cindy approached Rene.

"Can I, uh, ask you, um, a personal question?" she murmured.

Rene was afraid the girl had seen her furtive glances, seen the arousal in her eyes, her hard nipples. Surely the girl couldn't have smelled her damp cunt from where she sat?

"What?" she barked.

"Can we, uh, can we, me and Lindy, can we make love yet? We've been waiting so long now," the pretty blonde blushed.

Rene relaxed and burst into relieved laughter.

"I tell you what, if she can muster the strength after today's session, you two have fun," she said, and walked to her office.

Lindy was happy to hear the report, and she clung close to Cindy on the trip home.

"We don't have to, I mean, if your feelings have changed," Cindy said as they pulled up in front of her house.

"Cinny, I lub you! I been waying for eber to mae lub to you!" Lindy protested, and kissed Cindy's cheek.

Cindy's heart sang when she heard Lindy's words. They went into her house. Cathy Potter wasn't home, probably wouldn't be home for the whole weekend; she and Sam loved to go to Sam's cabin on Baylor Lake. Lindy looked at the steep flight of stairs and braced herself.

"Let me help you," Cindy said, and hoisted her lover into her arms.

Although only five foot five, and one hundred and twelve pounds, Cindy was very athletic, and easily picked up the smaller girl. They kissed deeply, and Cindy hurtled up the steps toward her bedroom.

"I all sweaty," Lindy complained.

"Smell good to me," Cindy said and pulled her shirt off.

"Dinks," Lindy complained. "You want to take a shower first?" Cindy asked.

"Wif you?" Lindy asked.

"You want to?" Cindy asked.

"Yeah!" Lindy said, and wobbled toward the bathroom.

The hot water flowed over their bodies, and they lovingly soaped each other. They rinsed off, and Cindy slowly, luxuriously dried Lindy's body, then dried her own. When she came into the bedroom, Lindy was stretched out on the bed, ready. Cindy smiled happily, and climbed into bed.

They kissed each other, slowly, passionately. Cindy began the slow, laborious dance down Lindy's body, each nipple getting as much attention as her patience would let her give them, before moving down Lindy's slim belly, and lovingly kissing her navel. When both girls were panting in need, Cindy moved her hands and lips to the tops of Lindy's thighs. Loving nibbles and kisses, and Lindy's back was arching, thrusting her pelvis forward. Finally, Cindy parted the fleshy lips of Lindy's pussy, and swiped her tongue along the slit. With an ear shattering shriek, Lindy humped Cindy's face and orgasmed deeply. As soon as those shudders stopped, a new wave started as Cindy took her engorged clitoris into her mouth and grazed her teeth lightly on it. A third orgasm racked her body as Cindy shoved two fingers deep into her anal cavity.

"Bo bore, bo bore, Chinny, stah, you stah dat," Lindy was blathering nonsense by the time her fouth orgasm subsided.

She gripped Cindy's head and pulled her face from between her thighs. They looked into each other's eyes. Cindy's lips, cheeks, nose and chin were slick with Lindy's juices.

"No more, Cinny, you top that," Lindy begged.

Cindy laughed with genuine happiness and lay down on top of Lindy, their pubic mounds rubbing against each other, Cindy's hairless cunt against the thin strip of Lindy's dark curls. They kissed and rubbed against each other, until Lindy pushed Cindy onto her back, and lovingly sucked a deep pink nipple into her small mouth. Cindy's first orgasm rippled through her when Lindy touched her tongue to Cindy's navel. Her long dark hair had fallen across her exposed clitoris, and Cindy shuddered in delight. She'd waited so long to feel that long hair on her body. Then, it was here, Lindy's hair across her thighs, tiny mouth and tongue sucking and jabbing into her pussy. She twisted and thrashed in delight as one nonstop orgasm after another pummeled through her entire body. Finally, almost unconscious from delirium, Cindy urged Lindy to stop. They cuddled and talked nonsensical talk to each other.

Paula Carter smiled happily at the two girls as they ate ravenously. To her, when a child ate well, they were on their way to getting well. Lindy had told her that she really liked Dr. Connely, felt like she could talk to her, and did not want to see Dr. Mizelle again. This was more than fine with Paula, she still bristled at the way she was brushed off when she'd called that morning. She shook her head; why had she been so negative to Cindy this morning? The two girls obviously cared a great deal for each other. Because of that horse's ass, Mizelle. She sat down and listened to the excited chatter. She read the bottle of medication that the pharmacy had filled, then read the bottle of medication that Mizelle had prescribed. Connely's was at least half the dosage. She had a hunch that Mizelle had not taken into account the fact that Lindy was tiny; had just written out his generic dosage.

"The girl was nothing like his notes said. Sweet, loving, hurt," Susan was telling her colleague, Dr. Setter. "Not at all the angry, defensive spoiled brat he painted."

"And, this surprised you?" he smiled.

"Well, I at least expected a sketch, an idea of what to expect," she said. "Instead, I get this little angel in my office. I swear to God, I think he hurt her more than helped her."

"Want another one?" he asked, and waved the barmaid to their booth.

"Just one, then I have to run, aerobics tonight," she said.

"Dr. Connely?" the plump waitress asked. "You are Dr. Susan Connely, right?"

"Yes?" she smiled.

"I read your book, 'Loving In a Loving Way,' and I loved it! I couldn't put it down! I'd never realized how negative I'd been to my boyfriend!" the woman gushed.

"Oh, well, thank you! It is always so nice to hear that I've touched someone," Susan smiled.

"Would you autograph it for me? I've got it out in my car," the woman begged.

"Well, of course I will," Susan laughed as the woman ran off.

"And I want a vodka and tonic," Frank called after her, then mock glared at Susan. "I swear, Susan, I hate dating you celebrities."

"Well, if you'd read my book, 'Equal Unequal Equal,' you'd learn how to deal with it," she laughed.

'To Melissa-God has given us each a path to love and happiness. It is my sincere wish that you find no stones or pitfalls in your path. Thank you for reading my book. Susan Connely,' she wrote. The woman was enthralled and would have ignored Frank's order had Susan not placed it.

"You'd love this young lady I'm seeing right now. Lost her girlfriend to a marriage, got suicidal and wrapped her car around a tree. In front of her former girlfriend's house. Survived, still recuperating from that, and is now in love with her physical therapist," Frank said.

"Female therapist, right? Problem?" Susan asked.

"Thinks the therapist is in love with someone else. Some guy named Lindy. You know, like Lyndon B. Johnson, or Charles Lindberg," Frank shrugged. "She'll be fine, though. The therapist doesn't have any trees in front of her house."

"Oh, Frank, that's terrible!" Susan exclaimed, then burst into laughter when she saw the little boy glimmer in his eyes.

She felt pretty sure that the Lindy that the physical therapist was talking about was the same Lindy that she had seen that afternoon. When she and her colleagues discussed their cases among each other, they never used names, would rarely even use initials. 'He' and 'She' were as far as they usually went in discussing and swapping ideas.

"Medication?" she asked.

"None. The kid drinks gin and champagne by the fifth. Any meds would be counterproductive on top of all the drinking she claims she doesn't do," he said.

"Antabuse? Then mild sedatives?" she offered.

"Have to get her sober enough to remember to take the meds in the first place," he groused. "She's a lovely young woman, just needs to learn how to let go, without giving up on herself. I'm real tempted to tell her to make a try for the therapist, with the understanding that a rejection of her affection is not a rejection of her altogether."

"Well?" Susan asked, and thanked the waitress for the white wine spritzer.

"Healthy or not, it's still hard for me to tell a patient to go get laid," he said.

"Works for me," the waitress said.

"I think she's waiting for you to pay her, Frank," Susan laughed.

"You're the one with all the books, you pay," he smiled and handed the waitress a twenty dollar bill, refusing change.

Dr. Setter didn't have to tell Megan to go get laid. Rene had called her in that afternoon, for an additional 'session.' As soon as Lindy and Cindy had swayed out of her studio, she'd made the decision to settle for the statuesque blonde. Lindy may be a few weeks short of seventeen, the legal age of consent, but she would never fully be adult enough. She was too much a little girl inside. Rene decided that a bush in hand was worth more than a bush in her dreams. Megan wore her red nylon shorts and matching nylon crop top and white socks and tennis shoes. She sashayed into the studio and immediately began her leg lifts at the barre. Rene moaned inwardly when she realized that under those skimpy shorts, Megan wore no panties. Her white blonde muff was fully visible. She smiled playfully at Rene.

"Megan, I think your progress is coming along nicely. But, I feel a much more intense program would be of benefit to your overall health," Rene began, and stood behind Megan. "I think you need a good fuck."

Megan woke up the next morning, stiff and sore. Her pussy and rectum ached from Rene's rough treatment. Rene may look feminine and demure, but she was a real bitch in bed. Megan's former lover had been loving and gentle and giving and receiving with her. Rene was demanding and rough. She was grateful that Rene had small hands, her fists had jammed into her twat and ass repeatedly, despite her cries of pain. The tears and pleas seemed to spur Rene on. Her tongue actually felt raw from the hours of licking through all of Rene's bright red pubic hair. She would have loved to use her hands to push all the hair aside, tug on the heavy lips, but Rene had bound her hands securely to her thighs. Her nipples were surrounded by some nasty looking welts from Rene's gripping and mauling hands and cruel teeth. She shuddered in memory of the hours of agonizing torture fully flooded over her.

"Good morning, sleepy head," Rene murmured, then leaned over and bit down on Megan's lower lip.

"Good morning, Miss Rene," Megan groaned.

"Shouldn't drink so much, my dear," Rene admonished. "Dulls the senses, you know."

"Yes, Miss Rene," Megan demurred.

"Ready for some more fun?" Rene asked.

"Will you untie me first?" Megan pleaded.

"I will untie you when I'm damned good and ready, my little cunt," Rene said, and squatted over Megan's face. "Lick!" Paula watched as the two girls plaid in the backyard. Lindy was seated on the old swing that hung from the large pecan tree. Cindy was pushing her and the girls' laughter and shrieks came through the glass window. Gone was the anger and frustration of Lindy. In its place was the sweet loving child.


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