Shock Therapy, Part 6

This fictional account contains adult language and graphic sexual themes.  If
such language and themes offend you, please do not read further.  References
to InRealLife, InRealLifeExposed and its owner Adam are used with his
permission.  All other persons and events described in this work are purely
fictional.  Any similarity to actual persons or events is strictly
coincidental.  Copyright 2003 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.

SHOCK THERAPY

6.	Epilogue.

   The next morning John Larson marched into Dr. Thomas' office.  Sam Thomas
sat behind his desk.  "My assistant said you had to see me this morning.  Is
there a problem?"

   John carefully shut the door behind him.  "No, Doctor, there's no problem.
None at all.  I'm just here to pay off my debts."  He smiled and reached into
his coat pocket.  He removed his checkbook and a pen.  "Now remind me.
Exactly how much did we agree upon for all this?"

   Sam Thomas looked stricken.  "It was, uh, it was $25,000 even," he mumbled
nervously.  "God, I can't believe I did this for money!"

   John wrote a check and handed it across the table.  "But it _will_ take
care of all those gambling debts of yours, now won't it, Doctor?  And then
some?"

   Sam Thomas groaned.  "Yeah, and then some.  So I take it that it worked?"

   "Like a charm," John smirked with an evil grin.  "Last night Luanne
announced she never wants to quit smoking.  Congratulations, Doctor.
Addiction got to her sooner than I thought possible.  It was great, cooking up
this idea to get my naive wife to smoke.  She thought it'd shock me back to my
senses.  But nicotine shocked her instead, turned her into a smoker despite
herself.  Yeah, it worked great."  He stopped.  "But Luanne would never have
considered it unless she heard it from a distinguished psychologist like
yourself, Dr. Thomas!"

   Sam Thomas looked at the floor.  "I feel terrible about what I did.  It
totally violates the Hippocratic Oath," he said with a groan.  "So you think
poor Luanne's really hooked for good on cigarettes?"

   "Absolutely," John smugly replied.  "For good.  How apt.  Yeah, but best of
all she doesn't want out, either.  She loves being a smoker.  God, it's better
than I dared hope for.  I bet you never thought those web pictures of girls
smoking and screwing each other would seduce Luanne, now did you?"

   "I almost hoped it'd backfire on you, John.  If I didn't need the money I'd
never have cooperated.  But no, I thought the smoking porn was a mistake.  It
was a big gamble, you know."

   "Not that big.  I knew all about Luanne's secret torrid lesbian affair in
college.  Private investigators turn up all kinds of useful shit if you pay
them well."  He laughed.  "Still, I agree it was a long shot.  But it was a
long shot that paid off big!"

   The door opened.  In walked Sheila, Luanne's little sister.

   "Ah, Sheila, I'm glad you could join us this morning on such short notice."
He reached for his checkbook again.  "And how much did I agree to give you for
cooperating with my plan?"

   Looking every bit as glum as Dr. Thomas the lovely blond let out a big
sigh.  "It was $20,000," she said without a hint of emotion.  "You promised me
twenty grand to sell my sister down the river and turn her into a smoker."

   "God, you really do hate being poor, don't you, Sheila?"  John laughed and
gave her a check.  "Now you can get some new wheels.  You can replace that
ugly Civic.  Twenty grand plus a decent trade in will get you a very nice new
car, won't it?"

   Dr. Thomas interrupted.  "Sheila, I have to ask.  Why do this to your
sister?  I had gambling debts to pay."  He looked down shamefully.  "I have an
addiction I can't control and mine's not smoking.  It's gambling.  I had to
make payments or I was going to lose everything.  My wife doesn't know of my
gambling debts."  He looked at her helplessly.  "I couldn't let her find out.
I just couldn't.  But you.  Why on earth did you do it to Luanne?"

   Sheila secured the check inside her purse.  "Money," she said with a placid
smile.  "I need a new car.  John approached me with his plan to get Luanne to
smoke.  I didn't want to help.  I'm trying to quit smoking.  Luanne knew but I
convinced her she was mistaken.  I can play the actress, too.  I totally
convinced Luanne I love to smoke."  She shrugged.  "The ironic thing is I
still want to quit.  And I just might, John," she added with a suddenly
menacing tone.  "Won't Luanne think it's weird after I told her how great it
is and encouraged her to stick with it?"

   "You'll never quit, Sheila," John laughed.  "If you do I'll tell Luanne
about us."

   Dr. Thomas gasped.  "About you?  Then you mean ??"

   John put his arm around Sheila.  "I fuck my wife's sister, Sam.  I like
pretty girls who smoke.  Sheila, like her older sibling, loves the finer
things in life, the things only money can buy.  I have _lots_ of money," he
laughed, giving Sheila a peck on the cheek.  She turned her head in disgust.
"Trouble is, Sheila loves money but she doesn't have any.  Worse, she can't
manage the money she does have.  I knew that pretty little Sheila would do
anything, even get her sister hooked on cigarettes for me, if the price was
right."  He kissed her and again she tried to wriggle out of his embrace.
"Sheila will do anything I ask as long as I pay her right.  Isn't that so,
dear?"

   "Fuck you," the pretty blond spat back.  "Fuck you!"

   "Yeah, well, that can be arranged," John laughed.  "So you see, Dr. Thomas,
you violated your fuckin' Hippocratic Oath.  You gave a patient advice you
never should've given.  That guarantees you'll never tell a soul what happened
between you and Luanne.  As for Sheila, she's been a very good girl."  He
patted her on the ass.  "She gets twenty grand and a guarantee that if she
cooperates I'll continue taking care of her financially when she needs help.
Meanwhile I got my dream, a wife who loves to smoke.  Even better she lusts
after other girls who smoke like she does."  He swaggered toward Dr. Thomas'
desk.  "And won't Luanne be surprised when I come home unexpectedly on
Thursday morning and find her in bed with our housekeeper Maria?"

   "But you promised you wouldn't bust Luanne when I told you, John!"

   "Don't worry, Sheila.  I did promise.  I won't bust her.  No, I intend to
join them.  After all, how can I stay away knowing Luanne and Maria enjoy
smoky sex every Monday and Thursday morning?"  He laughed evilly.  "I hoped to
get my wife hooked on cigarettes.  The shock therapy worked perfectly to
accomplish that.  But getting Luanne to share my fetish and fall into bed with
another pretty smoking girl was more than I dared dream.  Now I've got that
too.  So I intend to get Luanne and Maria to let me in."  He smiled at Sheila.
"You quoted Luanne as saying that Maria's a shameless slut.  Wasn't that it?"

   Sheila glumly nodded.

   "A shameless slut won't mind if I join them," John laughed.  "So that's
exactly what I intend to do.  I heard to an old Beatles CD the other day.  The
song's called 'Money.'  One line goes like this.  'Money don't get everything
it's true, but what it does get I can use.'"  He shook his head.  "As an
incentive to you both to keep quiet I'll send you another check for $1,000
every three months.  That will pay for you to keep buying cigarettes, Sheila.
I don't want you to quit.  And you, Dr. Thomas, it'll provide a little tax
free cushion in case your gambling habit gets out of hand again."

   John kissed Sheila on the cheek and turned to go.

   Sheila glared.  "And that's it?  Just like that you're going to go back to
Luanne?"

   "No, actually, that's _not_ it.  There's one more check I need to write.
One more player should be recognized for his part in my scheme and rewarded.
But after I write that check, yes, I intend to go home tonight to fuck my
lovely new smoking wife all over again!"

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   Adam trudged to the post office box to pick up the day's mail.  The
afternoon weather was beautiful in northeastern Ohio.  The sun shone bright.
He leafed through the envelopes, put them under his arm and walked back to his
car.

   Inside the house Adam unhurriedly opened each one.  Mail orders were good
today, he mused.  Lots of people seem to want the videos this time of year.

   From the envelope in his hand a check fell to the floor.  He picked it up
and glanced at it.  Suddenly he stopped.  "Holy shit," he mumbled.  "What the
??"

   He opened the enclosed handwritten note.  The engraved stationary said
Larson Real Estate Developers.  He read:

Dear Adam:

Thanks for all the enjoyment I get from your sites.  I have memberships in
both IRL Archive and IRL Exposed.  My lovely wife recently discovered IRL
Exposed and she loves it.  Luanne enjoys it just as much as, and probably more
than, me.  Please use this check for $10,000 to cover the cost of sending us
copies of every IRL Exposed video and enrolling both of us in lifetime
memberships on both sites.  If you need anything more to facilitate this,
please let me know.

Sincerely, John Larson.

   Adam gasped.  Ten fuckin' grand?  He was shocked.  He shook his head.  He
always knew his customers were crazy.  But he looked at the check again and
sighed.  God, if this is legit ?.  Hell, there were days he'd sell the whole
damn business for ten grand!

   A smile began to cover Adam's face.  He'd wait till the check cleared but
if it did he intended to write Mr. Larson a personal thank you letter and
invite him to the Cleveland area along with his wife to sit in on a video
shoot.  After all, he laughed to himself, if this guy has that kind of money
to throw around then I'd be delighted to make both Mr. Larson and his wife
preferred IRL customers for life!

THE END

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