THE PERFECT ORGASM

THE PERFECT ORGASM

Boff is a big man, six foot two inches, two hundred and twenty pounds. He is bald, wears thick-lensed, horn-rimmed, glasses. His piercing eyes are hazel, but almost no one has 
ever seen him without his glasses. He wears them when he showers and takes them off only to sleep. His nose is straight, his lips full; his mustache and beard not always trimmed. His clothes are rumpled, usually looking like he slept in them. Occasionally, he has.

Professor Brugelbagel was the world's leading expert on emotional and sexual problems. Boff Brugelbagel: medical doctor, psychiatrist, sexologist

He is full of energy, only still when he is in a therapy session. His concentration is total; he is tolerant and understanding, with his patients, staff and students. He speaks to them gently and firmly, creating an atmosphere of intimacy. Unintended. But there.

He is the professor of Psychiatry and Sexology at the best medical school and hospital in the United States. He has the world's greatest collection of sex material: The biggest library, the most paintings, photographs, movies, sculptures, videotapes, and instruments used in all kinds of human sexual functioning. Normal and abnormal. In the basement of his home. He livesalone in a small, one-story house in the suburbs; his office is in the attic, his living accomodations on the ground floor. There is a small apartment for his live-in housekeeper. He has trouble keeping his housekeepers though he pays them twice the going rate. He hardly talks to them. Some of them were were frightened because of his work with emotional and sexual problems. He fired several if he thought they were too curious about his basement collection. He treats a few patients privately and reluctantly goes to the bank when the cash and checks in his wall safe overflow. He writes articles for medical journals and he writes books. The only time he stops working is to eat or sleep.

He was adopted as a very young baby by a childless couple who were strict, religious, and negatively aggressive about any kind of sex. He taught himself to read when he was five years old. As he got older he began to read about love, intimacy, sex. Secretly. He looked for books about the mind, how it works, how and why people become sick, how they are cured.
He never told his adopted parents about his interest in the mind, love, intimacy and sex. They were always telling him to stay away from dirty things like that. When he was a teenager he 
made a mistake. His parents allowed him to go to a movie they thought was safe. It wasn't.

There were some heavy sex scenes in it. Boff came home very excited, sexually stimulated, and confused. He told his parents how he felt. His step-mother told her husband to beat him. 
He did.

He had a lonely childhood and adolescence with isolated experiences of intimacy: He had a friend for a year, when he was twelve years old; then the friend moved away. He had 
several teachers who loved him. In his shy way, he reciprocated. Only a little.

His step-mother showed him warmth and caring, on special occasions. On freezing, stormy, dark winter mornings, before he went to school, she made him a treat: boiling hot cocoa made 
entirely with milk. Then she streaked instant coffee across the foamy top. She filled the cup, brimmingly, served it was a smile. A small one.

 

He was fanatic about being educated and his need to help people with emotional and sexual problems.

Sexual experiences? He had none. He learned everything he knew about sex from books, courses and research.

He is absent-minded about personal things but totally organized in his work. He lives to work. He has no social life, no friends, no hobbies. He works a minimum of twelve hours a day at the hospital.

The only source of personal satisfaction in his life is helping his patients overcome their psychiatric and sexual problems. In the terminating session, the extremely sensitive 
ones might notice the shadow of a smile,hear a tiny hum.

He is twenty nine years old when we first meet him, a professional success and a social failure. Then Babygirl showed up and she shook him to the down to the depths of his 
unconscious. He lost her, for thirteen years. Then he found her again.

Who is she?

This is her story.

And his.

The request for a psychiatric consultation came from the pediatrician on duty and the professor's assistant took the call. "Listen, you must come down to the emergency room right away. There is a newborn baby girl who has a sexual problem." When the psychiatrist didn't respond immediately, hecontinued, saying, "She is physically normal. But I noticed that it touched its genitals and then it became quiet for a few seconds. Could 
it be masturbation or am I dreaming?"

The psychiatrist knew that all babies have sexually sensitive areas which include their genitals, anus, mouth, earlobes. He said, "I'll have to see for myself."He examined the baby and then observed it for half an hour and didn't notice anything unusual. He was beginning to think 
the doctor had imagined something when one of the baby's random movements brought her hand to her genitals. She became very quiet and had a peaceful look on her face for a number of seconds. Now he wondered if it was an orgasm.

"This is a case for Professor Brugelbagel." He called and told him about the baby.

"Hold everything. I'll be right down." The professor was excited. If what he thought was true then the baby girl would be the youngest infant reported who had masturbated. To orgasm.

He had reported a case of a three month old male baby who had been able to bring himself to orgasm, without an ejaculation, of course. It was normal for all babies to touch themselves and 
to enjoy it. It was part of the self-discovery of normal growth and development.

On the emergency ward the pediatrician told him that the baby girl was found on the steps of the hospital early that morning, wrapped in newspapers, in a shoe box. He led the 
professor into the examining room and from the moment Boff saw the baby girl he became breathless. And confused.

He felt a strange excitement and enthusiasm which he hadn't felt in years. Then something very upsetting happened. The baby girl moved her hand to her genital area and the pediatrician 
moved it away. She began to cry. Boff reacted without thinking, shouting at the baby doctor, "Leave her alone. She's normal." 
The shocked look on the pediatrician's face brought the professor back to his senses. He apologized and asked him to leave the examining room. He did.

She was lying on the examining table, making some small movements of her arms and legs. Her eye were open; she was staring in the direction of the ceiling light. When he moved 
closer to her she looked in his direction. He stopped.

He would call her Babygirl until they found out who she was. Standing next to her he was feeling serene. She lay quietly, looking in his direction. He moved a little and she followed him. With her eyes.

From time to time during the examination he hummed quietly, nodding his head rhythmically. He rubbed his hands together in a gesture of satisfaction and his body swayed slightly.

During his examination Babygirl made occasional, small, brief sounds. He had the strange feeling that they were communicating with each other. Intimately.

He moved away from her, out of her sight, and waited. After a minute her hand went down to her vagina. He moved into her field of vision. She stopped the touching. Curious.

He called in a male medical student and asked him to examine Babygirl. As he did she became excited and her hand went down to her genitals. Her legs moved, her hips moved, and she shuddered. He thought: "She had an orgasm, by God."

He sent the student out of the room. He would follow her progress, do research, write articles, even a book. He would present her case at world conferences. He began to happily hum 
and Babygirl looked in his direction. He stopped humming. She whimpered.

He called in a nurse and told her to put Babygirl back in her crib. She did and the baby cried. The professor thought: "She is sexually stimulated by males. Not me, though. Could it 
be that she has an aversion to females?" He had a nurse's aide pick up Babygirl and the reaction was the same as the one to the nurse. He asked a male doctor to pick 
up the baby and she lay quietly in his arms.

Before he left the emergency room he told the pediatrician to have her transferred to the children's ward. He emphasized that she be allowed to touch herself or masturbate as much as she wanted to. He left Babygirl. Humming.

She grew and developed normally, day by day, week by week. And from time to time she explored herself, touched herself, 
masturbated. To orgasm.

Summaries of her activities were reported to the professor. Besides, he visited her every day, alone, for a few minutes. They were both quiet during those times. Except when he hummed 
and she made little sounds. She never touched herself.

He had never touched her again. He had no need to. She was getting excellent treatment from the staff of the pediatrics department At the end of his visit they communicated directly: 
visual contact. His head nodding, he swayed, rubbed his hands, hummed. She made her sounds. Intimacy.

More days. Weeks. Some months. Babygirl continued to grow and develop normally, still touching herself. Especially in the presence of males. She was not so happy with females. Except with older, motherly women.

Babygirl was most irritable and unmanageable when the hospital social worker came near her. This woman was very fair and correct in behavior. But she was very rigid, very religious. 
She had two children of her own, but she was not the motherly type.

She was indifferent to Babygirl's rejection of her, but not to her open sexuality. That turned her off. Still, she was very dedicated about finding adopting parents for Babygirl.She tried
very hard to place her but was unsuccessful. Months went by. 

Boff was happy with his relationship to Babygirl and satisfied with the way his research was going. He was spending a half an hour with her every day, observing her scientifically, 
and relating to her. Personally. These half hours became the best part of his day,every day. 
Seven days a week.

He spoke to her in a voice that was rhythmic, quiet, slow, caressing. From time to time he would hum and she responded with sounds of her own. He never touched her, but stood close enough so that she could see him clearly. When he was in her room she stopped all sexual activities. Once he was called out in middle of his visit to answer a phone call. She cried. The moment he came back in she stopped crying.

Always,at the end of his visit, he would stand next to her,nod his head rhythmically, sway a little, rub his hands togethergently. And hum. After she made her sound he would shake his 
head as if to clear away some confusion. He was once again the professional. Then he left her. 
Satisfied.

The longer she stayed on the ward the more of a celebrity she became. Staff came from every department to see Babygirl. A few of them were sexually conflicted, disturbed and perverted. 
One or two tried to touch her. They were quickly caught and thrown off the ward, fired from the hospital. Because of the increasingly heavy traffic of the curiosity-seekers and sick ones, it was clear that Babygirl must leave the hospital. Two choices: adoption or Orphan Asylum.

The social worker had friends, an extremely religious, middle-aged, childless couple. She told them about Babygirl and they pressured their friend to let them adopt Babygirl. The 
social worker suggested this couple to the professor without telling him about their religious fanatacism. He agreed that they could be foster parents but not adoptive ones.

Who was this couple? They married at a late age, both virgins, dedicated religionists. After they married the husband tried to have sex with his wife but he was impotent and she had 
vaginissmus. For more than a year they tried to have sex and failed Theygave up trying, becoming even more fanatic anti-sexists. They believed that fun sex was the instrument of the devil and from the moment they heard about Babygirl from the social worker they had their calling. Save her.

The professor interviewed them that afternoon because he was going overseas to an international convention the following day. He was making his first major report on Babygirl. The couple were pleasant, polite, cooperative. They agreed to all of his conditions. The social worker was to have the right to visit Babygirl whenever she wanted. They were to keep records. Dr. Brugelbagel was to visit Babygirl every day and he was to have a half hour alone with her. The foster parents were to leave the house when he came. They agreed. They signed all the forms with great respect. They smiled and nodded. To God.

Catastrophe. For Boff and Babygirl. The social worker had done a terrible, unethical thing. She brought Babygirl and her file to the foster parents. After she left he happy couple she was mugged, beaten and murdered. Babygirl's file was casually thrown into a garbage pail. There 
was no other record of her new family and address. All was lost.

For the foster parents it was a gift. They read about the murder in the newspaper and saw it breifly on a local TV news program. They cut all communications with the hospital, God- 
blessed because they had Babygirl all to themselves. The professor was notified of this tragedy and he returned home immediately. He was a wild man. For the first time in his 
life he was aggressively destructive. He threw things, broke things. Cursed. Insulted. Finally, he controlled himself. The police were called in. They searched for Babygirl. The professor searched for her. Thestaff of the ward went out to search for her. Nothing.

Boff was sad. He missed Babygirl, the intimate sessions with her, the research. But he recovered, looking and acting as he always had. On the outside. Within, he felt a vital part of 
him was lost. In it's place was emptiness.

Babygirl? She was finally living in a house - but not a home. She was cared for: food, clothing and shelter. These basic needs were satisfied. But no intimacy. And her sex needs? 
It was the mother who had the responsibility to stop Babygirl from touching herself. She was tough, fanatic. She tied Babygirl's hands but then Babygirl would rub her legs togther. So she tied her legs apart, and her hands to the sides. Babygirl screamed for hours until she almost drove the father crazy. But not the mother.

The father felt a strong, secret, sexual attraction to Babygirl. He was frightened by this feeling at first, but then he began to enjoy it. He fought with his wife about her cruel treatment of the baby. He freed her from her restraints and his wife went crazy with rage, beating him. But he refused to break under her wild attack. The father sent the mother out of the house, for fresh air. She left. From the moment his wife closed the door he went into a trance-like state. He went to the sleeping Babygirl, stood over her, looking down. She slept, peacefully. He was aroused, erect. He went to the toilet. He masturbated, he orgasmed. First time in his life.

He became hysterical, crying, wailing, begging his God for forgiveness. He was forgive and felt cleansed. He promised himself he would confess his sin to his wife. He didn't. He 
promised he would never be alone with Babygirl when she was sleeping. He broke his promise. He became aroused, erect. He had his toilet orgasm.

Time passed, Babygirl grew, the mother struggled with her sexuality. From time to time the father satisfied his needs. Babygirl was learning how to survive. Painfully. When her 
parents were not around during the day then she was able to satisfy her needs. With pleasure.

The years passed. The more the mother punished and prayed over Babygirl the more fanatic the girl became. Religion versus sex. Sex versus religion. The mother and child in a vicious 
cycle which increasingly frustrated the mother, the father and child in a vicious cycle which was slowly driving the father crazy. Finally, relief and release.

The mother caught the father aroused and erect, standing over Babygirl's bed. He panicked and ran out of the house. The mother began to beat the sleeping girl. And praying. She beat her some more and prayed some more. She wanted her to die.

When she was exhausted she came out of her trance. She took the bleeding, badly hurt girl to the hospital emergency room. She told the examining doctor that the child had fallen out of 
bed and the doctor almost laughed. But he had no time. He had to save the child. The mother ran out of the hospital, out of Babygirl's life. Forever.

Babygirl's condition was critical, but she survived. Again, she had no identity. Six years old when she was transferred to a home for abandoned children. An orphan asylum.

*

She had recovered physically. Emotionally and psychologically, she was a cripple. She would talk and make no sense. Or she would become withdrawn and retreat into a corner 
and hum quietly, becoming violent with anyone who came close to her.When she was not having these crazy episodes she was seductive to the male children and male staff. The children 
called her "crazy," "prostitute," "sick." So did the female staff. Some of them regularily beat her, especially when they caught her masturbating. Babygirl was stubborn and fought back 
until she was beaten into exhaustion.

Her behavior became more and more peculiar as the years passed. She laughed without reason, she seemed to be listening to voices when no one spoke to her. When everyone was serious she 
would laugh. When everyone was having fun she would suddenly be frightened. Her unprovoked rage reactions were only controlled when the staff locked her in the lightless broom closet under the stairs. 
When she was ten years old she was beautiful of face and body, and she moved with grace and style. And crazy. One day she got her first period. She panicked, thinking she was going to 
die, and escaped from the asylum. She was gone four days. When she returned she was dirty, incoherent. And no longer a virgin.

From that time on she would have sudden attacks of anxiety, acting as if her life was being threatened. She would throw up her arms to protect herself against the imaginary threat to her 
life. Whimpering, she would try to run out of the asylum. She was stopped by the staff, and then she would fall to the floor, lying still and holding her genitals in both hands. Her body 
was as stiff as a board. Then she relaxed, began to hum, and masturbated herself into tranquility. When they let her. If they didn't, she wound up hysterical and wild in the lightless broom closet. Then she calmed down enough to masturbate herself into tranquility.

From this period on she began to sneak out of the institution and when she was found it was always in the company of males, adults or teenagers. She had sex. When she would be 
returned to the home she would become aggressive, destructive, violent, uncontrollable. Until she was locked up, in darkness. Then she she was able to relieve herself. And sleep.

When she was thirteen years old she was beaten senseless and raped by a new man on the staff. The following day, battered, bloody and semi-conscious, she was found in an alley near the 
asylum.

In the emergency room she recovered consciousness but she was completely crazy. The only understandable thing she said was her name. She was put in a straight jacket. When the consulting psychiatrist heard her name he felt a shock of recognition. He had read about her in Professor Brugelbagel's articles in psychiatric journals. He knew that she had disappeared. 
He called the professor who was so happy with the news that he was speechless. Then he hummed. Deep within, he felt that something had risen to life. After thirteen years.He rushed to the emergency room and seeing Babygirl he was shocked. She looked terrible: bloody. battered, bandaged. She was muttering incoherently, straining against the thick straps of her straight jacket. Without thinking he began to hum.

When she heard the humming she stopped muttering. He stopped humming and came closer to her. She became crazy again. He told everyone to get out of the room. They did, quickly. 
Boff and Babygirl were alone. Together. For the first time in 13 years.

He released her from her restraints, and he spoke in a voice that was rhythmic, gentle, slow and caressing. From time to time he would hum briefly. Quietly. She had stopped talking crazy but it was still there. In her eyes.

He told her who he was and what their relationship had been until she disappeared. Then he said that he was having her transferred to his psychiatric ward. She stared at him. Then 
she hummed. A tiny bit. The circle was closed.

*

Five years. For the next five years Boff and Babygirl would be together almost every day, for one hour, seven days a week. He was committed to curing her, if it was the last thing he did.
During for the first year she talked and acted crazymost of the time. She had periodic, unpredictable violent attacks in which she would be destructive and uncontrollable. These attacks would start by her sudden screaming, for no apparent reason, and she would cover her head with her arms as if protecting herself from some terrible threat.

She was often in a state of sexual excitation, either masturbating or trying to seduce any male near her. She resisted any female who tried to treat her. Except the chief nurse.

The nurse was middle-aged, average in height, solidly built with a full bosom. Her face was pleasant, her brown hair copper- highlighted. Her eyes were dark brown, her smooth skin tanned all year round. She loved going to the beach. She had an aura of the good mother though she had never married, never had any children. All the patients on the ward loved her, because she was honest, dependable, competent, warm 
and loving. An earth-mother.

Babygirl was treated with tranquillizers, in pill form, or by injection.She only took her medicine from the male staff and the nurse. The medications slowed her down, made her drowsy, her hands shook, her face mask-like. She drooled from the mouth, and her speech was slurred. She still spoke nonsense. When she would be especially violent, uncontrollable or her her sexual acting out was too threatening to others, she would be put in a padded cell. The psychiatric broom closet.

The first year the professor tried a wide variety of tranquillizers but no one medication or combination of several did more than temporarily slow down her overactive behavior. 
He met with her for an hour's therapy session every day. From the moment she entered his office all her violent, destructive behavior and sexual acting out would stop. She still spoke gibberish, occasionally hummed, and many of her movements were uncoordinated. She would often get up from her chair and wander aimlessly around the office. From time to time she would stop her restless behavior, stand over him, staring directly into his eyes. He would take off his glasses, look her in the eyes and look away. And polish his glasses.

After she sat down, he would carefully get out of his seat and walk slowly around the room. Then he would begin to speak quietly, gently, caressingly, rhythmically. Occasionally, he 
would hum. When he did this Babygirl would relax, sit in her chair. It was as if both of them were in a trance.

*

By the beginning of the second year she had stopped talking nonsense, no longer walked around the office restlessly. But she had stopped talking completely, in the office and on the 
ward. She sat in her chair staring straight ahead, unseeing, no longer confronting him. Boff began to talk spontaneously, about her, about the therapy. From time to time he would pause, hum a bit, pause again, and then continue from where he left off. When the session was over, he was once again the professional. He would shake his head, move his body a little, get out ofhis chair and come close to Babygirl. Not too close. But closer. Then he would look into her unseeing eyes for a moment and move away. Hewould nod his head, sway, rub his hands together slowly. Then he would hum. A little. Babygirl responded with a soft sound, from deep within her throat. Then the doctor opened the door and Babygirl left.

There was a gradual elimination of her violent, crazy behavior during the second year. Sex disappeared. But she would become very fearful when she had to leave the locked ward. She only left it with the chief nurse.

The professor was satisfied with her progress though she was still not talking. For the first time in his career he felt that he needed something more than just his determination, knowledge 
and experience if he was to succeed with Babygirl. He found what he was looking for. The chief nurse. When Babygirl was with the chief nurse she was quiet. She loved listening to her talk about going to the beach. The older woman talked about these vital elements of life, 
and the teenager listened carefully, sometimes nodding her head.This relationship inspired the doctor's insight: the return to the womb. The ultimate intimacy.

Babygirl would have Jacuzzi baths of warm water while her friend talked to her about the beach. The nurse agreed to doit, and Babygirl nodded assent. He arrangedwith thephysiotherapy department to have the pool available with no one around. The 
nurse gave her a bathing suit and helped her put it on. She had never worn one before. 
Babygirl looked great, looked confused, but cooperated.

The three of them went to the empty physiotherapy department where the Jacuzzi waited for them: full, bubbling, warm. They were excited by the experience. Babygirl was happy to be with the two most important people in her life. Until the nurse told her to take off the bathrobe and climb into the pool. She panicked. She looked at Boff, looked away. She looked at the nurse with a wild look in her eyes. The nurse understood immediately. She looked at Boff, looked at the door. He nodded and went outside, leaving the door partially open. Babygirl took off her robe and easily immersed herself into warm pool. She felt safe. Satisfied. She closed her eyes, smiled, opened them and looked at her friend. She talked.

"Yes." 
The professor heard. He came back into the room, hoping to have a session with her. She jumped out of the pool into the waiting arms of her friend. Boff fled. The older woman helped the younger one to get back into the warm, healing waters. Then she spoke to her in a quiet, caressing voice. About her beach. Babygirl lay back in the tub, totally relaxed, with a small smile on her face. For one hour there was peace, harmony and perfect communications even though Babygirl didn't say a word. At the end of the hour she came out of the pool, dried herself, put on her bathrobe.

She said, "I'm ready to go back."

From then on, she spoke normally with everyone. Except the professor. Only he talked in the sessions. They met every day, six times a week. Once a week she had the Jacuzzi intimacy sessions with her friend.

A few months later Boff impulsively tried to come into room while Babygirl was in the tub. 
She screamed. Boff ran.

The professor was happy with this positive addition to his paitent's therapy. But he was jealous. This was the first time that he felt anything negative about his chief nurse. They worked together for years and were an excellent professional team. She had great respect for her boss and knew her limitations. Now he had to get used to accepting his own limitation. 
Once he had analyzed this situation he stopped being jealous of the chief nurse. They needed each other in order to succeed.

*

She was fifteen years old and beginning her third year of treatment. In her private sessions she didn't talk, though she had eye contact with him. He hardly looked at her, and stayed 
seated for the entire hour. Then there was a breakthrough.Babygirl came to the session in a new dress that the nurse gave her. She wore no makeup, didn't comb her hair, did nothing 
to look or act more feminine. But the new dress triggered something in Boff. Unconsciously.
He looked at her and looked away. With a faraway look in his eyes, he began to speak about his personal life, for the first time. Ever.

He told her how he had become an orphan, the religious, strict family that adopted him. He talked about his discovery of sex at a very young age and his adopted parent's punitive 
attitude about it. He talked on and on, never once looking at Babygirl.

She began to speak to him, quietly. He was so intent on sharing that he was not conscious that Babygirl had begun to speak. She was happy and relaxed and her body moved a little. Gracefully. She smiled and he smiled back, still unaware of the intimate transformation in their relationship. Suddenly, at the end of the session, he had a thought which awakened him from his positive altered state of awareness.

"Here I am, a fourty four year old man, being intimate with a fifteen year old girl. And it feels good!" He shook his head from side to side, clearing it. He became painfully aware of his scientific responsibilities. And of his conscience.

Babygirl understood what was happening to Boff. She simply said "Yes", smiled again at him and left the room. It was only after she was gone did he realize the significance of her beginning to speak. She was making progress. He would succeed. In spite of his powerful doubts about his intimate behavior with Babygirl he was compelled to do the same thing the next day, and the day after. He could not control his compulsion to tell her the truth about his personal life, past and present. She was understanding, supportive, without saying much.

It was around this time that Babygirl decided to stop the water treatment. The doctor agreed. The nurse was sorry. She loved the hour of intimacy once a week. But they continued to 
meet informally on the ward. She talked about her beloved beach and Babygirl began to talk about things which were important for her. Like wanting to improve her appearance. Her older friend helped her. Very much. The chief nurse kept Boff informed of Babygirl's progress. The professor felt a growing sense of excitement, though he 
didn't know why. Then one day Babygirl came to the session looking very attractive.

She had a flush on her cheeks and a brightness in her eyes and she moved around in her chair much more than she ever did. She was crossing and uncrossing her legs, being careful to keep 
the new dress she was wearing from rising too high over her knees. Her hair was neatly combed and styled. A little. He became confused. Intimacy, he knew, liked and accepted. 
But this was something else. What?

Suddenly, he had the answer. He was having sexual feelings towards a woman. The first time in his adult life. To feel this way about a fifteen year old woman was not normal. His shouted thought was, "She's a teenager, for God's sake." Besides, he could not allow himself to have sexual feelings towards his patient because of his professional and scientific standards of ethical behavior. He forced himself to be very stiff and formal during the session. There was a hint of rejection in his behavior. Her reaction was immediate and very painful. She became withdrawn. Her eyes were narrowed, her brow furrowed and the flush was off her cheeks. She stopped moving in her chair and kept her face turned away from him.

From then on, the sessions were straight psychotherapy. They discussed her thoughts, emotions and behavior. Her past, her present, her plans for the future. He felt more sure of himself as a therapist.

*

And so it went, through the third year and into the fourth. Her behavior was normal by any standards. The chief nurse gave Babygirl more responsiblity for helping with ward chores: serving food, organizing the cleaning of the ward, helping to call patients toget their medication. Her relationship with the chief nurse deepened. The nurse was spending some of her free time with Babygirl. She tried to get her to go out of the hospital, to walk around the 
neighborhood, but she was too anxious to try it.

Babygirl was grooming herself better, getting help and advice from some of the other women on the ward. The clothes she wore were always clean and pressed and supplied by the chief 
nurse. Babygirl had good taste and the colors she wore always matched. She refused to wear any makeup or any kind of ornaments which would have enhanced her natural beauty and well-shaped body.

Yet she was a woman. No doubt about that.

When sex was discussed on the ward she would freeze up. A coldness and toughness would come over her. The subject was immediately dropped. All the patients were examined periodically by the ward doctors, but not Babygirl. She allowed no man to touch her. She would only agree to being examined by a female doctor. For internal examinations she insisted that the chief nurse be present. She was.

The nurse began to share personal details about her background with her young friend. She was almost married once but her boyfriend had gone to war and never came back. She never 
knew if he had been killed or decided to break off with her. She had lived with several men but never found one she wanted to marry, nor did she want to have a baby. When she was 
almost fourty years old she decided to get pregnant without telling the father of the child.

It was a difficult pregnancy because she was nauseous and vomited most of the time. In the last few months she had high blood pressure and kidney complications. She stopped feeling the movements of the baby in the ninth month. She lost it. Ever since, she avoided intimate relations with everyone. Until Babygirl.

*
By the end of her fourth year of treatment Babygirl had found a home on the ward. The nurse and doctor were family to her. Her main problem was her inability to leave the ward without 
one of them being with her. The professor was a perfectionist. He wanted her to be 
completely cured so that he could finish the book he waswriting. There were two unresolved problems: Her anxiety about leaving the ward, and her sexuality in the past. He wanted her to 
understand the psychological significance of her sexual behavior for the first fourteen years of her life.

In the daily session was having increasing difficulties in controlling his rising sexual and emotional feelings. As the months went by he became convinced that he was losing the battle.
More and more often he recalled the intimate moments shared together, which climaxed when she came to the session with the new dress. She had looked so much like a woman and this had aroused him. Sexually.

Intimacy and sex were a double threat that he was unable to supress or repress. One day at the end of the fourth year he simply gave up. He hadn't slept well the night before, and that
morning he had forgotten to have breakfast. Babygirl was very uncooperative. He had raised the subject of sex and she had become angry, telling him, "Get off my back." Then she literally turned her back on him. He became confused, and desperate, and began to argue with 
her. She ignored him, sulking. Finally, in despair and in a barely audible voice he told her how much he had done for her, how he had saved her life.

She didn't respond but turned around and faced him, sitting up in her chair, crossing her legs brushing her hair back from her forehead. Speaking with more confidence he began to tell her how important she was for him, not just professionally, but as a person. She was the first one he had ever been close to and he felt that he was beginning to lose her. His voice cracked.

Babygirl hummed. It was not a loud sound but Boff heard it as the thunder which comes before the lightning. He jumped up from his chair, swinging his arms around wildly. In making this violent movement he knocked his glasses off his face. He froze. He could not see without them. He groped frantically, knocking things off his desktop. He went down on his knees, 
searching around on the floor. He found nothing. Standing up shakily, he looked around. Blindly.

Babygirl came to him. She bent down and picked up his glasses. She said, "I have what you are looking for." She gave him the glasses and their hands touched, the first intimate, physical contact.

He said, "Thank you for giving me what I needed."

From that moment on she was free of all inhibitions and she talked freely about her past sex life. She spoke calmly about the traumas of her past, learning the effect it had on her thinking, 
emotions and behavior. She spoke of her sexual excesses, leaving nothing out. The crazy years. All described and detailed for her therapist. He sat quietly never taking his eyes off her face. He nodded his empathy, understanding and compassion. Sometimes he would make an 
interpretation. He made many notes, as he was still writing his book.

The struggle with his emotional responses continued to rage, and he made heroic efforts not to think about her as a woman.

He was losing the war. Babygirl? She understood the intimacy of her relationship with Boff.

That's all. No sex.

In her heart she was quiet, at peace with herself. She had become a mature adult. There were major transformations in her behavior. Her repulsion of males disappeared and she was able to be natural with them. She allowed male physicians to examine her, when it was necessary. But not internally.

She was the acknowledged leader of the patients, although she was the youngest of them all. She took on more responsibilities for the housekeeping chores and in helping the staff run the ward. She was seventeen years old and was elected to be the president of the patient's committee for ward management. Overcoming her fear of leaving the ward she began to explore the hospital. She ran personal errands for the patients such as buying things in the canteen, earning small change in payment. She used the money to buy candy bars, magazines for adolescents, a comb and mirror set.

Babygirl often passed the entrance doors and saw the steps leading down into the street. She tried to go through the doors but she couldn't. Her anxiety turned to panic. She stopped 
trying. She accepted this limitation, believing she would never be able to leave the hospital. She felt secure in her relationship to Boff, the chief nurse, the staff, and patients. And deeply satisfied.
*
Eighteen years old. She continued to see the doctor in daily sessions.Neither mentioned the experience of the lost and found glasses. The intimate touch.

Professor Brugelbagel continued to work with Babygirl on her fear of leaving the hospital. (But never on her fear of leaving him). Whenever he asked her to think about going out the big doors she would react with symptoms, as if she was doing it: palpitations, cold sweats, shortness of breath, weakness, shaking of her arms and legs, butterflies in her stomach, dizziness, nausea, a cloudy confusion in her head. And the irrational fear that some catastrophe would happen to her. The fact that she was safely seated in the secure space of 
the professor's office made no difference. He tried every technique he knew. Nothing worked. He gave her drugs to reduce or eliminate her neurotic reactions. Nothing worked. He was stuck. She wasn't.

Towards the end of her fifth year there was an excursion to the chief nurse's beach, a place Babygirl had often imagined. She decided to make a major effort to break free of her fears. 
She was hopingthat the intimacy and security of being with her "family" would help her overcome her anxiety. The time had come. She had packed her bag with a new bathing suit in it and when she came out of her room she was greeted by smiles. And spontaneous applause.

The patients and staff left the ward, Babygirl staying close to her friend. When they reached the big doors she was in the middle of the group. They went outside. The moment she was on the top step she became panicky. She fled back. Her friend hugged her, calmed her. They went back to the ward.

Babygirl was sad. Then she got lucky. Boff's housekeeper died. He was at work when he heard about her sudden death. He knew he would have trouble finding a replacement and he tried to put this thought out of his mind as he went into his session with Babygirl. He couldn't concentrate and there was a confusion in the session that neither of them had ever experienced before. Suddenly he became very sleepy. She asked if there was anything she could do and in response he took off his glasses and put them on the desk. He rubbed his eyes with his fists. 
He fell asleep. For the entire session. She sat quietly for the entire hour, content. When the hour was up Babygirl stretched her muscles and made a humming sound. Boff opened his eyes, put on his glasses, nodded to her, and then he said without thinking, "Would you like to come home and live with me?" Babygirl nodded her approval. He said, "I want you to be my housekeeper." Even though she didn't know what kind of job he was offering her, she agreed. 
Then they both began to laugh. With happiness. And relief.

He explained what happened to his housekeeper, and described the job to her. He asked her if she knew how to cook and she said she did though she had never cooked a meal in her life. He 
asked her if she knew how to shop, how to handle money and she said she did. She had done these things in the safe, limited environment of the hospital. The pay was excellent, the living conditions were morethan adequate and she could do whatever she wanted with her free time. 
He made a point of telling her of his library and sex collection in the cellar and that it was off limits for her. She replied confidently that sex doesn't interest her.

"There is one problem," she said. "I am too frightened to leave the hospital." Boff felt helpless and despairing. Babygirl had an insight. She said, "Maybe if you lend me a hand, I would be able to go out of the hospital." He said, "Okay. Let's do it together." He got up and 
walked briskly out of his office. She followed him, hurrying to keep up. By the time they got to the lobby she was beginning to breathe hard, from the effort, and from excitement.

He stood cooly, waiting by the front doors. She stood three steps from him. Stuck.
He moved towards her and reached out to take her arm. Then he froze, unable to touch her.
Babygirl was now cool and he was stuck. She reached out to him. She took him gently by the hand. But firmly. She led him outside and they made it all the way to the 
bottom. Free at last.He said, "You see? I knew we could do it."

*

Back on the ward,happier than she had ever been in her life she told her friend the nurse about her job. The chief nurse had witnessed what happened downstairs and was concerned. She asked herself, "Is it safe for her to live with a single man, twenty nine years older than she is? Her therapist?" The nurse was honest with Babygirl, told her about her doubts. Babygirl reassured her that she had no sexual feelings and trusted the doctor. She wanted to help him. The chief nurse said, "Let's bring it to the patients and staff, for their reaction." Babygirl agreed.

There was unanimous approval for her to leave the hospital to work for the professor. And live with him. Babygirl went to the professor's office, knocked and walked in without waiting. He knew by the smile on her face that there was good news. He smiled too. Then he became serious when he told her that he would have to consult with his colleagues and the hospital administration.He needed their approval that what he was proposing was morally and legally acceptable. Later that afternoon he called her to his office and told 
her that he got the okay. She almost hugged him.
He told her to meet him with her things in half an hour, by the big doors. She did. Boff showed up and did an unusual thing. With a clumsy half bow, and one arm outstretched in the direction of the door, he said: "You come first". And she did.

*
When she walked through the front door of Boff Brugelbagel's house she had the feeling that she had come home. She took over her duties and responsibilities as if she had been doing them all her life. She was a natural at cooking, cleaning, shopping, and handling money. She took driving lessons using Boff's car and passed the test. Easily. She called her friend occasionally, needing to hear her voice and to know that she was avaiable. She didn't make any new friends, didn't go to the movies and she had no hobbies. She was satisfied working for Boff and living in his home.

The professor never had a private secretary and Babygirl took on this job. It started with her letting the patients into the house. She was pleasant, agreeable, and they all liked her. She began to answer his office phone, to do his bookkeeping. He hated handling money and soon she was collecting his fees, writing receipts, taking the money to the bank for deposit.

As the months went by, Boff found himself smiling at her more often. She smiled back. Easily. The intimate contact, non- physical, increased. They never talked about the two touching incidents: the glasses, and by the big doors. Then there was another breakthrough. He asked her to make his morning cocoa. He told her how he likes it: made with milk, sugar and some instant coffee sprinkled across the brimming, foamy top. She made it right, the first time. And served it boiling hot. He said, "I see you know the way I like it." He smiled at her, takingoff his fogged glasses to wipe them. She nodded. With a tiny hum.

Whenever the professor flew off on one of his lecture trips or to chair a convention, she would make all his travel arrangements, hotel accomodations. She drove him to the airport 
and waited there until his plane was airborne. Then she returned home to her regular schedule of duties. He knew when to call, and always got her in.Babygirl never bothered the professor when he was seeing patients in his attic office. When he was writing she made sure that the house was very quiet. When he went down to the basement she was nevercurious to know what he was doing there. In the mornings she made sure that he was out of the house before she made up his bedroom.

He became more comfortable and trusting around her, opening the wall safe without bothering to hide the combination from her. She learned it. She saw that he kept a spare key to the steel basement door in there.

Early one morning Boff had an erotic dream for the first time in his life and awakened with a shout. And an erection. Babygirl was busy in the kitchen when she heard his cry and ran into his bedroom. Confused and anxious, he jumped out of bed as if escaping from a serious threat to his life and in doing so knocked his glasses off his night stand. In panic he groped for them, but they weren't there. Boff always slept naked so now he was standing helpless, at the side of his bed. Fully erect. Babygirl stood in the doorway for a moment, watching Boff groping helplessly. She said, "I know what you are looking for and I'll give you what you want."

She approached him,looking down. She felt some vague stirrings in her genital area. And liked it. But she knew what she had to do. She reached down - and picked up his glasses. She put them on for him and as she did so her hands touched the sides of his head and his cheeks. Both felt the racing thrill of contact. After a moment's hesitation he adjusted the glasses. Then he turned his back on her and put on his bathrobe. He thanked her, quietly. She accepted. With a smile. Then she went to the kitchen to prepare his morning cocoa.

After she left the room, the professor thought that his sex dream and erection were evidence that he was going through a major change in his life and he couldn't stop it. He would have 
to be extra careful to keep himself under control because he didn't want to lose Babygirl.

She understood that her sexual awakening was part of the healthy transformation that she was going through for a number of 
years. She also knew that she had to help Boff with what was happening to him but she didn't know how. Not yet.

Doctor Boff Brugelbagel,the scientist, was calm as he got dressed.He thought that it was important for him to rehabilitate himself but it was even more important to help Babygirl to 
achieve normal sexual functioning. He would have to be very careful and to go slowly. He was glad that on this day he was scheduled to fly to an international convention on Sexology. He 
had been invited to give the keynote speech inwhich he was to present Babygirl's case history to the international scientific world for the first time. Being away from home would give him some time to plan what he will do about the growing intimacy and sexuality. In them. Between them.

The professor was very happy when he came into the kitchen, greeted Babygirl with a big smile and a cheerful, "Good morning. I'm ready for a hot cup of you know what. Would you like to join me?" Babygirl replied with a happy smile of her own: "Yes, I would. But I don't like it as hot as you do." "You could have it any way you want," he answered. Babygirl and Boff sat together. Drank together. Talked together. As one. Intimately.

After breakfast she drove him to the airport, and waited for his plane to take off. Then she took off. She had a compelling need to get home to do it. She was not sure what, but she knew 
it had to be done. She arrived home in a state of increasing excitement, in a trance of special awareness. She went to the wall safe, dialled the code. It opened. She took the spare key to the cellar, went to the steel door. She opened it. At the bottom she stopped, looked around. She was not curious about the huge collection of sexualobjects. She was looking for something specific. She could not name this object but she knew she would recognize it when she saw it.

Suddenly, her gaze became fixed at the far end of the long room, into a dark corner, partially covered by spiderwebs. She went directly there, gently pushed aside the spiderwebs. Deep in 
the corner were some dusty books. She pulled out the leather-covered one.

The white book.

She felt a powerful surge of sexual pleasure, greater than she had ever felt before in her life. Her passion and excitement grew as she stroked the soft leather. There was nothing written on the cover. She opened the book and her breathing became more rapid, her heart beat faster. She felt a stronger pulse of sexual stimulation. Nothing was written on the first page. Nothing on the second, the third. As she turned from blank page to blank page she was accelerating into a sexual surge which could only end in a climax. She reached the last page, closed the book.

A perfect orgasm.

She felt deeply relaxed, clear-minded and very sure of herself. She knew that this unique experience was related to Boff but she didn't know how. But she had the inner peace and harmony which was vital for her being. A whole person.

She put the book back in it's place, careful not to disturb the dusty surroundings, and stepped out of the dark corner. She pushed the spiderwebs back to their previous place. Delicately. 
As she was going back up she was aware that she had broken one of the house rules but she had no guilt feelings.She had todo what she did. She locked the cellar door, put the key back in the wall safe and locked that too. Her only concern was that Boff would not suffer from what she did. She would never go to her white book unless she was absolutely sure that he was on a plane flying out of the city.

And so it was. Everytime the professor was safely on his way to a distant city or land, Babygirl would return to the white book. It was only when she was sure that he was gone did she feel 
compelled to go to her white book to page herself into having a perfect orgasm. Every time.

*

As the months went by, Babygirl noticed small but significant changes in her figure. She was more attractive and moved more gracefully. Her face combined serenity and sexuality. She accepted these changes as part of her maturity.She wore no makeup, hept her hair simple but stylish, wore modish but conservative clothing. Yet whenever she went out women would stare at her and some men signalled their interest in her. If any man dared come too close, she hardened. Her powerful assertiveness and the special look in her eyes warned them off. 
Wordlessly.

At home, things were different. Their non-verbal closeness and shared intimacies increased. Breakfast was more leisurely, lingering. She talked about running the house, he talked about 
his work. He came home from work earlier and they ate supper together. They sat over a cup of coffee. Intimately.

No matter how hard he tried to be conservative, his positive feelings about her increased. More and more, he was looking at the shape of her breasts, under her loose-fitting garments. He 
described her shapely behind to himself: "Cute." He was troubled by a stirring deep in his genitals, that he was unable to control. It had a life of its own. Down there.

Babygirl was actively contributing her share to the crescendo of their growing intimacies and sexuality. When he came home from work, earlier and earlier, she met him at the door with 
a quiet smile. She took his briefcase and their fingers touched. Somehow.

She began to make up his room from the moment he was out of bed and in his robe. Recently, they had bumped into each other when they tried to leave the room at the same time. It was very touching. He began polishing his glasses, frequently, when she was around. She saw what a good looking man he was. And distinguished. He was dressing with more care, matching colors, beginning to buy stylish clothes.

*

Bad. That was her feeling on this particular morning. It was cold, the skies were overcast and a steady rain was falling. There was a mist which greyed everything. A day for a catastrophe. 
The doctor was going overseas later that morning. She had had trouble sleeping, most of the night tossing and turning. The night had ended earlyin the morning when the professor had 
suddenly awakened from a nightmare, shouting, confused. She tried to come into his room but he had shouted her out. He dressed quickly and came into the kitchen. He went to her and and without thinking, put his hand on her shoulder, in a gesture of apology. "Don't worry about me," he said. "I'm thinking about cancelling my trip."

Her response was immediate and firm. "Absolutely not. No way. You're going. These people have been waiting for you for more than two years." He took off his glasses, polished them, humming quietly. Then he replaced them, and sighed. "Okay. I'll go."

She finished preparing his breakfast and sat down to keep him company while he ate. He ate without talking, looking at her from time to time. She looked more beautiful than ever. They 
drank their cocoa together. He had a second cup. 
Then they talked. And talked. Time passed quickly as they experienced a special warmth. And intimacy.

Suddenly, she became aware of the time. If they didn't hurry he would miss his plane. Babygirl ran out of the room and was soon back with his briefcase, travel documents, bags and raincoat, which she had prepared the night before. She drove them to the airport, very quickly and they just made it on time. Babygirl was very irritable and her feeling of impending catastrophe was increasing. He couldn't understand what was happening to her but he had no time to talk to her. He was rushed through the check-in procedure and then he ran to the departure gate. He suddenly stopped, turned, and waved. Sadly. But she was already gone.

She had an overwhelming need to get home. To the basement. To the white book. She was off and running towards home the moment he had turned towards the departure gate. She had no time to wait for his plane to be airborne. When she got to her illegaly parked car she saw a policeman writing a ticket and a towtruck hooking up. She burst into tears. She got the ticket but not the tow. And lost time.She drove home at such a high speed that she almost had an 
accident, twice. She thought she would go out of her mind if she didn't get home to satisfy her increasingly turbulent passion.

She began undressing the moment she stepped inside the front door. She shrugged off her coat and let it fall on the floor. She kicked off her shoes at the entrance to the living room as she rushed to the wall safe. She clumsily dialed the combination with one hand as she tore off her blouse with the other. She took out the key. On the way to the steel door she struggled out of her skirt. She fumbled the lock open, kicked the door violently and ran down the 
steps two at a time. She dropped her brassiere on the bottom step.

By the time she got to the dark corner and ripped aside the spiderwebs, she was naked. She lunged at the white book. She snatched it off the shelf, scattering books in all directions. She had it in her hands and she began a frenzied paging.

Trouble. For Boff and Babygirl. His plane had developed engine trouble while still on the runway. The pilot announced that there would be a six hour delay until the new departure. Boff was thrilled. He had time to get back home and see Babygirl. He had to see her, to tell her the truth. He knew that it would change both of their lives. Forever.

He rushed into the terminal but didn't see her. He called her to say that he was coming home. 
To her. No answer. She had to be home. She always was. That was their agreement. He got scared, sure that something terrible happened to her. He felt guilty because he left her. He took a taxi home, paying the driver double to get him there as quickly as possible. He rushed into the house, calling her name, and then stumbled and almost fell over her coat which was lying on the floor. Now he was sure that some calamity had occured.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw the cellar door open. In a trance of turmoil he ran down the cellar steps. When he reached bottom he looked around wildly and saw her in the dark 
corner. He ran to her and then pulled up sharply, as if he had run into an invisible glass wall.

She was naked, paging the white book. The power and depth of his passion propelled him to join her. Babygirl was ready to climax when he got to her. One of his 
hands touched her hand, the other grasped the white book. The nightmare began. They were struck by an unbearably painful, pulsing force, so punishing that it threw them onto their knees, then onto the floor. They were writhing in torture. Boff was throwing himself in all directions, trying to free himself of the unbearable pain. It was useless. She was 
suffering agonies but was able to cope with it. She had his life in her hands. Literally.

If she did not do something drastic in the next few seconds he would die. His screams and thrashing movements were getting weaker and weaker.She made an almost inhuman effort and wrenched free of his grip on her hand. Then she found the strength to rip the white book out of his other hand. The pulsing, torturing, punishing pain stopped. Immediately. She was free to place the book down on the floor. Gently. She looked at Boff, sprawled on the floor like a broken doll. His skin was pale grey and his head lay lifeless on the side, his broken glasses next to it. She had the frightening thought that he was not breathing. A chill shook her body.

She picked up his hand and held it in hers, warming it. She put it down gently and began to stroke his brow. She ran a finger delicately over his closed eyelids and then began humming. 
A lullaby. She kissed him lightly on the lips and felt a thrill. He moved. He took a deep breath, held it for a second, and then let it out slowly. He began to tremble. She raised the upper part of his body and cradled him in her arms, his head resting on her naked breasts. 
She continued to hum her lullaby. Quietly, peacefully. 
The color came back into his face and his breathing became regular. His eyelids fluttered and opened. He saw her. Babygirl lowered Boff onto the floor and picked up the white book and his broken glasses. She said softly, "Don't go away. I'll be right back." He nodded his agreement. She went to his bedroom where she took a spare pair of his glasses. She went toher room and put on a robe. Carrying the white book and his glasses, she went down to the cellar where she found Boff sitting up. Naked.

He had taken off his clothes and spread them out on the 
floor, in a makeshift bed. She said, "We have plenty of time for that. When we do it, 
we'll do it right." "You're the boss," he said. She helped him stand and put the robe on him. Then they hugged and rocked, kissed and caressed. And hummed a little. Together. In harmony. She said that it was time for them to go to bed. She asked, "What do you want to do with the white book?" He replied, "You're the boss." She threw it in the furnace.

They went to bed. Intimately. With sex. They made love.

The babygirl book was never published.

THE END