Animal Magnetism, Part 2

This fictional account contains adult language and themes.  If such language
and themes offend you, please do not read further.  The persons and events
described in this work are purely fictional.  Any similarity to actual
persons or events is strictly coincidental.  Copyright 2001 by SSTORYMAN.
All rights reserved.  Permission is hereby granted to reproduce this story in
any form and for any purpose as long as this notice is reproduced and no
financial remuneration is received, directly or indirectly, by the person
reproducing it.

ANIMAL MAGNETISM

2.	The Second Session - Carolyn.

   "Dr. Richardson, Bill asked me to talk to you.  But really, there's no
need.  He just worries that I smoke too much.  But, shit!  I don't need to
see a psychiatrist for that, do I?"

   Sheryl smiled.  "Please call me Sheryl, Carolyn.  If you're not
uncomfortable with it, I prefer being less formal."  She paused.  "Perhaps
you misunderstood.  This isn't about your smoking.  I don't think Bill minds
it, and I think you're aware of that.  He fears he has an undue influence
over others, and you in particular.  Your smoking is evidence of that, in his
mind."

   The young woman laughed.  She was a pretty, petite blond with a pleasant
laugh.  "Yeah, he's told me that."  Carolyn paused.  "By the way, he also
said you're really cute."  Seeing the psychiatrist blush, she went on.  "I
hope you're not embarrassed, Sheryl.  But he's right.  You're a very
attractive woman.  You must be the best looking psychiatrist in town!  But
that's beside the point, isn't it?  Anyway, I'm glad my smoking's not the
problem.  So this is about Bill's concern over his so-called animal
magnetism?"

   "That's the term he's used.  Tell me about it."

   "Bill's a great salesman.  His boss says he never met anyone with Bill's
persuasive ability.  He's a god when it comes to selling.  As they say, he
could sell ice cubes to Eskimos."

   "I know he's quite a salesman, Carolyn.  We just bought a computer program
from him, and it's every bit as good as he said.  But here's the problem.
He's worried about his influence over the opinions of others in many areas.
Like you, for instance.  He's concerned that you started smoking because of
him and his influence.  Maybe it'd help if you told me about how you started.
That seems to be the focus of his concern.  He thinks it's a bit, shall we
say, unnatural."

   "Sure, Doctor.  I mean, Sheryl."  She smiled.  "A friend introduced me to
Bill a year ago.  I immediately liked him.  He's smooth, but genuinely
friendly.  He cares about people.  Women often say they want a sensitive man;
but they also want a man's man.  Well, Bill's both.  He's a listener and a
doer.  I liked him as soon as I met him.  I liked him a lot.  I still do."

   Dr. Richardson nodded.  "That seems to be a common reaction.  Having only
met Bill once, I can see how he'd impress you.  He's very dynamic and
personable; charming, really."

   "Yeah, he is.  So I went out with him, even though he smokes.  I never
dated smokers, and didn't want to.  But Bill was different.  He didn't hide
it or apologize.  He smoked two or three times during our first date.  It
wasn't obnoxious.  It was just who he was, and it didn't seem to bother him
that I told him I disapproved.  To be honest, I expected it to bother me, but
for some reason it didn't.  There was something about the way he enjoyed
smoking.  I can't explain it, Sheryl.  It sort of turned me on, to be honest.
Each time he lit up, he looked like he _really_ liked it.  It made me
curious!  I felt I had to try it.  So I did."

   "And that was on your second date?"

   Carolyn nodded.  "Yep.  Next time we went out, I asked for a cigarette.
God, he was shocked!  He thought I'd give him shit.  But that wasn't it at
all.  I wanted to see for myself what it was all about.  So I asked him to
teach me to smoke.  And he did."

   "So you didn't just start smoking?  You asked Bill to instruct you?"

   Carolyn nodded.  "Sure.  I'd never smoked, and you can't learn to smoke
all by yourself.  You need to be taught.  So I asked Bill to show me.  It
wasn't as hard, or as bad, as I thought."

   "But I suspect you didn't like it immediately, did you?  It usually takes
time to develop a satisfactory tolerance for tobacco, and a need for
nicotine."

   She thought.  "No, at first I didn't like smoking, to be honest.  But I
_wanted_ to.  You see, watching Bill smoke impressed me so much.  He clearly
loved it, and that made me want to love it, too.  So I smoked a couple of
cigarettes with him that first night.  Right then I knew for sure that I
wanted to keep smoking from then on."

   "And why was that?  Why did you want to continue smoking if you didn't
enjoy it?"

   Carolyn smiled.  "You silly thing!  It was because I knew that very soon
I'd learn to like it just fine.  And I did," she added proudly, as if her
answer should have been self-evident.

   "So what happened next?"

   "Well, the next morning I bought myself a pack.  Bill was smoking Marlboro
Lights 100's back then, so that's what I bought.  I was working second shift
at the ER.  I had time to kill before work.  I smoked three or four times
that morning.  Each time I lit up I felt closer to Bill, like I was sharing
the smoking experience with him.  I wanted to be close to him.  Being a
smoker made me part of something he did, something he liked."

   "So you smoke because it makes you feel connected with Bill?"

   Carolyn laughed.  "That's why I started, but it's not why I smoke now.
See, I soon found out just why Bill likes to smoke so much.  It's great.
Smoking makes me feel so good, Sheryl.  If you don't smoke, you can't
possibly understand.  Smoking soothes and refreshes me.  I found out Bill was
onto something.  And _that's_ why I smoke.  It's really great!"

   "Bill says you smoke more than a pack a day.  Did that happen right away?"

   "Uh-huh," she nodded.  "Almost at once.  I'd discovered a glorious secret,
one that'd been hidden from me too long.  Smoking was just so cool.  I loved
it.  I loved smoking with Bill, of course, but I also just loved it, period.
I wanted to smoke as much as I possible.  I smoked alone at my apartment, I
smoked in my car, and I smoked whenever I went out someplace.  I didn't care
what people thought.  I loved to smoke, and that was enough.  It still is."

   "But what about the health issues, Carolyn?  You're a nurse.  You know the
long-term health risks associated with smoking."

   The pretty blond laughed defiantly.  "Yeah, and you know what?  I don't
care.  I'm serious, I don't.  In school that shit seemed important.  But when
I experienced the pleasure of smoking cigarettes, I didn't care.  I didn't
give a shit.  I know I'm risking my health smoking so much, but it doesn't
matter.  I'm a smoker, Sheryl.  Once you learn to love it, like I do, all
that health shit fades into the background.  Oh, sure, I wish it was
different.  I wish it wasn't bad for me.  But there's nothing I can about
that.  I smoke now.  That's all there is to it.  I'm a smoker."

   Sheryl rubbed her chin.  "Yes, I see.  So you don't think there's anything
to Bill's concern about his undue influence over your decision?"

   "God, no," Carolyn giggled.  "I love Bill.  I'd do anything for him.  We
have an unusual relationship, Sheryl.  Really unusual.  He's changed me lots
of ways.  I owe him a lot.  But the fact that he opened my eyes to a lot of
things doesn't mean there's anything weird happening."

   "You've changed in other ways besides smoking?"

   The blond nodded vigorously.  "He turned me on to some things I never
thought I'd be interested in.  Like sports.  I never liked baseball till I
met Bill.  I thought it was boring.  But he's a baseball fan, and spending
time with him, I learned to love the game.  His favorite team's the Yankees.
Now first thing every morning I check the sports page, just to see how the
Yankees did the night before.  I've become a big fan."

   "Anything else?"

   "Well, I'm not sure I want to tell you everything.  Is it important?"

   Sheryl smiled as she wrote some notes on her pad.  "I'm trying to get a
handle on the concerns Bill expressed.  I hope that by talking with you I can
reassure him that your relationship is perfectly normal."

   "I'm not sure our relationship is normal, whatever that means.  Bill's
very attractive.  Women proposition him all the time.  Sometimes he says yes.
We've been together a year, but we have an open relationship.  I'm okay with
that.  He sleeps with other women.  So what?  Girls give him their phone
numbers without him asking.  I can't stop that from happening, and I don't
want to.  So we both see other people."

   "That _is_ unusual.  Does it bother you that he sleeps with other women?"

   "No.  In fact, maybe I shouldn't say this, but here's another way Bill
changed me.  Until we started dating I was never attracted to women.  But now
every once in awhile he mentions that a particular girl looks really sexy.
Whenever he does that, I always look.  You know what?  He's right.  Bill's
attracted to other women, and so I am."

   "You mean you've become an active bi-sexual?"  Carolyn nodded, so Sheryl
asked her a second question.  "But you'd never been bi-sexual before?"

   "Never.  But hanging around with Bill, I began to see things differently.
I find myself lusting after beautiful girls.  Bill fucks around, and I do,
too.  I've had some one-night stands with other girls this last year.  It's
been highly enjoyable, Sheryl, to tell you the truth."

   "And what is it about another woman that attracts you?"

   "Oh, everything," she said with a shameless grin.  "I like her smile, her
body, everything about her, I guess.  I especially love girls with big tits
and nice, tight firm asses."  She sighed.  "I guess I love the same things in
other women that Bill does.  I hope that doesn't sound too weird."

   Sheryl smiled.  "Well, Carolyn, in this business, nothing's weird.
Nothing's right or wrong.  It's only a matter of what meets your needs,
personally and sexually."

   "Okay, then I guess I've turned into quite a loose woman," she laughed.
"I find other women sexually attractive, exciting.  Bill _is_ responsible for
that, but I'm not sad or upset about it.  In fact, I've never been happier
than I am right now."

   "Let's get back to smoking.  You don't feel any conflict over it?  Tell me
about what happened to your parents."

   Carolyn laughed.  "Bill's such a salesman!  A few weekends ago we spent
two days with my folks.  I figured we were in for some serious shit about
smoking.  But Bill's so polished and smooth.  He explained to Mom and Dad why
he likes to smoke, and why I do, now that I'm a smoker, too.  Before long,
Mom and Dad just had to try it.  Mom called last night.  They're both still
smoking.  They're glad Bill opened their eyes.  They love to smoke, like Bill
and me."

   "And you don't think that's weird?  Just a little?"

   "Oh, yeah, sure, it's weird.  No doubt.  But you have to know Bill.  As I
said, he could sell ice cubes to Eskimos.  Once he enlightened my folks
exactly why we like to smoke, they wanted to try it, too.  And once they did
that, nicotine did the rest!"

   "And your roommate?  I understand she now smokes, too?"

   Carolyn nodded.  "Uh-huh.  At first Trish was furious that I was smoking.
She threatened to move out.  I asked Bill to talk to her, and he did.  The
next day Trish decides she wants to learn to smoke, too.  We both smoke all
the time now.  Trish loves it."

   Sheryl scratched her head.  "Carolyn, this is unusual.  I must admit, I
understand how Bill can sell computers or magazine subscriptions.  But
smoking?  I've never seen anything like it."

   The blond fidgeted in her seat and then took a deep breath.  "Sheryl, I
hate to change the subject, but could I smoke?  All this talk about smoking
is making me desperate for a cigarette.  Can I have just one?  A quick one?
Please?"

   Sheryl made a face.  "The building's non-smoking," she muttered.  "But
you're my last appointment today, so I guess it wouldn't hurt anything.
Yeah, sure, why not?"

   The truth was, Sheryl was mystified by Carolyn's story.  She'd never seen
a case in which one person so completely dominated and influenced another.
Carolyn seemed totally under Bill's control.  Amazingly, she didn't seem to
realize it.  Perhaps, she thought, it'd help to observe her smoke.  So she
smiled graciously.  "Yes, go ahead and smoke if you like."

   In a second the petite blond took a long, cork tipped cigarette from her
purse and put it in between her lips.  She got out a tiny, expensive-looking,
gold monogrammed lighter and clicked it.  The flame hit the cigarette's tip.
She hollowed her cheeks and sucked long and hard on the burning cylinder,
pulling a great deal of smoke into her lungs in a mighty whoosh.

   "Oh God," she moaned blissfully.  She held the smoke inside before
releasing a thick cloud of it through her lips and nostrils.  "Oh yeah!
Thanks a bunch!  That's _much_ better!"

   Sheryl watched closely.  Carolyn was addicted to nicotine.  No one smoked
that way unless they were hooked!

   Carolyn opened her purse again.  She took out a small spherical object and
smiled at Sheryl.  "It's a little portable ashtray," she grinned.  "I carry
it with me in case I'm someplace where they don't have one."  She flipped it
open and tapped an ash into the container.

   Sheryl was fascinated.  "Tell me again how much you smoke, Carolyn?"

   "Over a pack a day," she shrugged.  "I smoke even more on days I don't
have to work.  But it's easy to smoke around the ER.  If we're not busy, I
can sneak outside for a smoke."

   She put the cigarette in her lips again and dragged powerfully.  She
deeply inhaled the smoke.  "I honestly don't know why Bill insisted I see you
about this," she went on, slowly ejecting it from her nostrils and mouth
again.

   Carolyn looked at Sheryl as she exhaled.  The psychiatrist had shifted the
pen in her hand.  She'd changed to holding it between her middle and index
fingers.  Her thumb rested on the cap.  She smiled.  "God, Sheryl, you're
holding your pen just like a cigarette.  Do you smoke, too?  Or did you once
smoke, somewhere in the past?"

   The psychiatrist blushed.  "Of course not," she blustered, returning her
pen to a writing posture.  "Let's not get off topic.  Why do think it's odd
that Bill wanted you to talk to me?"

   "Because he loves having me smoke," she sighed.  "He's told me.  It turns
him on."

   "You mean sexually?"

   "Yeah, sure," the blond girl laughed, as smoke spewed from her lips and
nose.  "We smoke while we have sex.  It's really fun, Sheryl.  You should try
it!"

   She ignored the last statement.  "So, Bill has a smoking fetish?"

   "A what?"

   "A smoking fetish.  A fetish is something inanimate that becomes
associated in a person's mind with sexual arousal.  Some men have a 'thing'
for women's clothes, or women's shoes, or big breasts, or long hair.  A
smoking fetish is a sexual attraction to women smoking."

   "Yeah, that's it," Carolyn laughed.  "Maybe it's from his mom smoking when
he was a kid.  I don't know.  But he loves it when I smoke.  It turns him on
like crazy.  He likes it so much that he doesn't sleep with girls who don't
smoke.  He's told me.  Frankly, Sheryl, neither do I."

   She frowned again, so Carolyn explained.

   "Smoking's sexy.  I love to smoke, but I really like other girls who
smoke.  It turns me on.  I love seeing a beautiful, girl-next-door type pull
out a 100 millimeter cigarette and light up.  God, it gets me _so_ hot."  She
paused and blushed.  "I hope you don't think that's too weird."

   "Carolyn, when it comes to sex, nothing's really right or wrong.  As a
psychiatrist, I simply try to help people understand the motivations behind
their actions, and assist them to deal with problems they perceive.  Your
actions may or may not be consistent with maintaining your long-term
happiness.  But you have to decide that.  I can't do it for you."

   She nodded.  "I understand.  Okay, well, here it is, Sheryl.  I love to
smoke, and I love having sex, with men or women, it doesn't matter which, as
long as they're smokers.  I love Bill, and I especially love fucking him.
I've changed since I've known him, but everything that's changed is for the
better.  I'm very happy."  She paused.  "That's it.  That's my story."

   "I want my patients to be comfortable with their choices and life
circumstances," Sheryl nodded.  "Of course, you're not my patient.  Bill is.
We're only trying to see if he's exercising any unusual or inappropriate
influence over you.  But you may want to think about whether your current
choices are in your long-term best interests."

   Carolyn shook her head.  "Fuck long-term best interests!  I do what I feel
like, things that make me happy.  And if you never smoked, and never tried
doing women, you can't possibly know whether I'm doing things in my best
interests.  Yes, Bill's influenced me.  I admit that.  But ultimately I make
my own decisions.  He did open my eyes to some things.  I now smoke.  I now
like sex with women.  And I like baseball.  The fact that Bill helped me
appreciate these things isn't weird, and it's not inappropriate.  Do you
agree?"

   Sheryl hesitated.  "If they're really your decisions, Carolyn, then I
guess I have to agree.  But how do you know they're your choices and not his
choices for you?"

   "If Bill left me, I'd keep doing everything I do now.  I don't smoke _for_
him, Sheryl.  I smoke _because_ of him.  There's a difference.  It's hard for
you to understand, since you don't smoke.  But I _like_ being a smoker.  It's
a huge hassle sometimes, but it's worth it."  She crushed her cigarette in
the covert ashtray, closed its lid, and stood up.  "I don't think there's
much more to accomplish," she announced.  "I hope you can help Bill feel
better about himself."

   "Sit down, Carolyn," Sheryl pleaded.  "I'm not judging you.  Don't
misunderstand me.  It's just interesting how your views changed on health,
sex and recreational activities while dating Bill.  But you're right.  The
fact that you changed doesn't mean it's wrong.  Bill's very persuasive.  You
value his opinions.  If you're happy with your life, I guess I have nothing
to say."  She smiled.  "I mean that, Carolyn.  Please believe me."

   "Okay," the blond reluctantly agreed.  "I'm sorry I got mad.  I just don't
want anyone judging me for how I live.  It's none of their - or your - damn
business."

   "No, it's not.  But you're wrong to say there's nothing left to talk
about.  If you don't mind, I want to see if there are other reasons, some
things in your background and your parents' history, that might be the real
root causes of the shifts that have occurred in your feelings about smoking
during this last year."

   "Yeah, sure, we can talk about that."

   "Fine.  Then, tell me.  Growing up, do you remember anyone, a close family
friend or relative, who was a smoker?  Someone you and your parents admired
who smoked?"

   Carolyn scrunched up her face and thought.  Finally, she nodded.  "Yeah,
there was.  It was my aunt, my mom's sister."

   Sheryl smiled triumphantly.  "I thought so.  Tell me about your aunt."

   "Aunt Cynthia was always the black sheep of Mom's family.  She's younger
than Mom by several years.  She was always kind of wild, I guess.  And she
smokes."

   "What kind of interaction did you have with Cynthia as you grew up?"

   "Cynthia was single while I was growing up.  She sang in several local
bands who played bars and clubs, that sort of thing.  I _did_ admire her.
She had an exciting life, more glamorous than ours, because she worked nights
and hung out with fascinating people all the time."

   "And did she smoke around you, at your house?"

   Carolyn nodded.  "Mom didn't approve, though.  Cynthia had to sit outside
on the screened porch to smoke.  But my sister and I always got along real
well with her.  Aunt Cynthia gave me my first pair of earrings when I was
thirteen.  I'll never forget that."

   "I see.  A couple more questions.  How did your mom feel about her sister?
Did she secretly envy her spontaneous lifestyle?  And what happened to her?
What's she doing now?"

   "Well, I'm not sure how my mom felt about Aunt Cynthia.  She seemed to
disapprove of her in some ways.  But I remember once when Mom and Dad were
fighting.  She said to us kids that she wished she was as free as Cynthia."
She shrugged.  "I don't know.  Do you think that's significant?"

   "It very possibly might be," Sheryl smiled.  "And what became of Cynthia?"

   "She got married a few years ago and retired from singing in bars.  She
moved to Nashville.  We don't see her much now.  I heard she was going to
quit smoking, but I don't know if she did, or if she was able to.  She used
to smoke an awful lot!"

   "Tell me, Carolyn.  Was Cynthia promiscuous?  Specifically, was she
bi-sexual?"

   Carolyn blushed.  "God, I don't know," she giggled.  "I mean, it wasn't
something she talked about around us.  But yeah, I think she definitely slept
around.  Whether it included girls as well as guys, I can't even guess."

   Sheryl put her pen in her mouth and pondered the situation.  "Here's what
I think, Carolyn.  There's a perfectly logical explanation for your sudden
interest in smoking, and your mom's, too.  You both admired your aunt's
free-wheeling lifestyle.  Smoking was a symbol of her freedom.  Meeting Bill,
you were attracted to his smoking, though you didn't realize it.  It
symbolized your aunt's way of life.  It made everything seem more glamorous,
sexy.  You became sexually attracted to women who smoke because of your
admiration of your Aunt Cynthia.  Bill reinforced that latent feeling inside
you due to his own admitted fetish.  The glamour you admire is connected with
your aunt being a smoker.  In the same way, your mom at times resented her
family commitments, and secretly wished she, too, could be like her
rebellious sister.  When you began smoking, your mom joined you, largely
because it stood for a life she secretly admired but always felt she missed
out on."

   Carolyn nodded.  "That makes sense.  So do you mean that when I sleep with
another woman I'm really sleeping with my aunt?"

   Sheryl laughed.  "God, no.  It's not that direct.  The connection between
your aunt and your admiration for her merely makes the things she stood for
attractive to you.  That includes smoking, and your sexual attraction to
other women who smoke."

   "Wow!  So, you don't think Bill is really responsible for my love of
smoking, or for my new sexual interest in women?"

   "Yes, that's right," Sheryl confirmed.  "Psychiatry is a science.  Things
sometimes seem unexplainable, almost mystical, like the way in which Bill
triggered your suppressed interest, and your mom's, in smoking.  But at root,
there are psychological causes.  Bill's responsible in one sense; he
triggered it.  He set off inside you something you never knew was there, a
desire to be like your aunt.  But he has no more power than I do.  It's all
inside of you."

   "That's interesting.  Maybe you're right, Sheryl.  Maybe I do want to be
like Aunt Cynthia was.  I never thought about it before."

   "Of course you didn't.  That's my job, to help you see root causes of your
behavior.  Now, whether you want to do anything about changing that behavior,
it's up to you.  But oftentimes understanding the cause opens the door for
change."

   "But I don't want to change," Carolyn frowned.  "There may be something to
what you say.  But what about my dad?"

   "Simple.  Your dad was probably also surreptitiously fascinated by your
aunt's dissolute way of life.  Seeing you smoke made him realize you were
becoming like her.  Being in mid-life, he grew jealous, and he, too, wanted
to do something to lay claim to a chance to live a life that's different from
his boring, run-of-the-mill existence.  So, he smoked."

   "Sheryl, you're a genius.  It doesn't change my feelings, but you may be
right.  I admire Aunt Cynthia, and I wouldn't mind being more like her.  It's
interesting.  So, thanks a bunch!  And thanks for not judging me.  Bill's
right.  You're a great shrink!  And like I said, you're cute as a button,
too!"

   "You're welcome," she blushed.  "I'm glad to help.  Bill's right about
you, too,  You're delightful.  He raved about how pretty you are, and I must
say he was sure right!  Anyway, thanks for coming in.  What I've learned will
help me reassure Bill that he has nothing to fear or worry about.  He may
have some natural animal magnetism, as he calls it.  But it's certainly
nothing out of the ordinary.  As is usually the case, the real answer lies
elsewhere."

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