I hadn't told Layla anything, at least not yet. My mind was still actively reeling from the tension of my previous visit, and even though my wetness didn't last it was an opening.
I sat across from her in our favorite coffee shop, staring into my iced caramel macchiato like it was gonna give me answers.
"Girl, why are you blushing like that?" Layla asked, sipping her drink and narrowing her eyes at me suspiciously. "You look like you've been doing something pretty inappropriate."
My fingers tightened around the cup.
"You remember that gynecologist you told me about? Dr. Jay Lee?"
She perked up immediately. "Yeah? How can I forget the amazing hunk who helped me."
I stared at her.
"What? Look, all I'm doing is appreciating God's amazing craftsmanship. I know how less tensed i felt when his fingers dipped into my irritated coohie."
I groaned, but the heat rising in my cheeks made her gasp.
"Oh my God. Aliyah. You went! How did it go"
"Great," I said quickly, heart racing. "He asked me a couple of questions about my sex life and I expected a bunch of medications but…"
Layla leaned in like we were discussing war crimes.
"But what?"
I hesitated, biting my lip. "He offered a practical exam to be done."
Layla blinked. "Okay? That's like normal."
"Not really. Like…" I looked around, then whispered, "He kissed me and it made me wet. Like, actually really wet."
She choked on her drink.
"YOU'RE TELLING ME THIS MAN DID WHAT MODERN MEDICINE COULDN'T?!"
"Shh!"
"No, babe. You don't just casually drop a 'he got me wet' and expect me to whisper. I'm gonna need graphs. Diagrams. Did he—"
"It wasn't clinical!" I hissed. "Or it started clinical. But then… the way he touched me, how he looked at me… like he wanted me to come right there on his chair then he finally kissed me and I could feel my panties get soaked."
Layla went silent for a second, eyes wide. Then, slowly, a smug grin spread across her face.
"So when's the next appointment?"
"I'm not sure going back there is proper," I said automatically.
She raised a brow. "Oh, please. That man unlocked your hidden hydration and probably some long-lost kinks. You're going back. You're just stalling so you don't seem desperate."
I stared at my drink. My thighs pressed together under the table.
"I already scheduled the follow-up but I don't know, Lay."
Layla shrieked. "I KNEW IT!"
"I didn't mean to!" I groaned, covering my face. "I just… I couldn't stop thinking about his voice. His hands. He said he has a treatment plan, Layla. A plan. What does that even mean?!"
Layla leaned in like she was about to read me a bedtime story. "It means you're about to be his favorite patient. And honestly? I support it. You deserve good orgasms and great customer service."
I laughed despite myself.
"You're the worst."
"I'm the best. Now go let Dr. Orgasm ruin you with his clinical excellence."
I shook my head but deep down? She was right.
The idea of being touched by a total stranger didn't seem appealing to me, that's a Layla thing. I was more reserved, more quiet and timid. I couldn't seduce a doctor or convince him to fuck me.
But fuck, the was my chance at normalcy, to become a functioning woman, and maybe have the chance to be fucked by he hottest capable doctor.
I tapped it.
Confirmation screen popped up: "Are you sure you want to confirm your appointment with Dr. Jay Lee?"
God. Even his name made my thighs clench.
I stared at the screen for a full thirty seconds before my thumb betrayed me and hit Yes.
Two days later, same clinic, same room, heart thumping like I'd swallowed a bass drum. My thighs clenched with anticipation, remembering everything his hands—his mouth—had done. The fact that it was technically medical made it worse. Or better. I couldn't tell anymore.
When the door opened, and he walked in wearing that crisp white coat and unreadable expression, my breath stuttered.
"Aliyah," he said, like my name tasted good. "You kept your follow-up. I'm impressed."
I gave a nervous laugh. "You said I needed a treatment plan."
His lips twitched. "That I did."
He stepped closer, and just like that, the air between us snapped tight again. Every cell in my body screamed.
"This plan," he began, circling me like a wolf circling dinner, "is an intensive one-on-one session with no distractions. Just you, me… and your neglected pleasure pathways."
Pleasure pathways? I almost choked.
"What exactly does that involve?" I asked, pretending like my voice wasn't shaking.
His smile was slow, scary and fucking seductive.
"Let's call it a reconditioning."
I was already wet.
He led me to a padded chair—not the usual exam table. This one reclined, leather, with wrist rests and adjustable leg supports. Oh.
"Take your gown off."
I hesitated, but then—off it went. This time, I didn't bother pretending it was medical. My body was already humming, craving the feel of his hands again. His praise. His control.
He didn't put on gloves this time.
"This isn't a diagnosis exam," he murmured, dragging his hands over my bare shoulders as I sat. "I will be training your body how to respond, beg and plead."
Beg? Plead?
Before I could question it, he tilted the chair back and spread my thighs apart with deliberate slowness.
"I'm going to show you what real stimulation feels like, Aliyah. Again. And again. Until that dryness is nothing but a memory."
He pulled out something from a drawer. A slim silver wand.
Medical equipment? I doubted it.
"This will help with circulation. Increased blood flow means heightened sensitivity."
I was already shaking, and he hadn't even touched me yet.
The wand brushed between my folds. It was cool at first, then buzzing softly. My back arched, legs trembling as he pressed it right against my clit. The moan I let out felt like it cracked open the room.
"Good girl," he breathed.
The second those words left his mouth, my coochie clenched but Jay didn't stop. My legs began to shake from how good the wand felt on my clit.
I never felt his way when I used a vibrator on myself, heck I was still drier than Sahara.
''Doctor Jay, that feels so good''
"I haven't started the real treatment yet, Aliyah." he whispered, leaning in, lips brushing my ear. "This is just an assessment. Now the real tretment begins."
Then he slid to his knees.
And when his mouth replaced the wand—hot, skilled, devastating—I realized exactly what this plan entailed
Total. Submission.
His mouth on me was everything and too much, clinical precision wrapped in carnal greed.
I gasped, back arching against the chair as his tongue moved like he had my body mapped out already.
His tongue swirled around my coochie, every flick on my clit sent white-hoy pleasure crashing inside me and all I could do was grip the armrests and hold on.
"Dr. Lee—" My voice was strained.
His hands gripped my thighs tighter. "You don't speak unless I ask you to, Aliyah."
My stomach flipped. A moan escaped before I could trap it.
"You're here to learn," he said, mouth still working me like a man on a mission. "To be patient. Receptive. Obedient."
God, why did that word make my brain freeze? Why did it feel so darn hot?
The wand was nothing compared to his mouth, everything he did made me squirm under him. His hot breath fanned against my skin and tried to close my legs reflexively from the sensitivity of my skin but his grip stopped me cold.
"Don't fight it," he murmured. "You taste so good and I want you to savor this, to feel so overstimulated that your body never forgets this moment.''
He went back to feasting, while I thrashed underneath him. I tried to pull away from him but he bit my clit keeping in place as he stuck his tongue deep into m coochie, holy fuck. I sobbed out a moan as he lapped my coochie juice like a fucking dog.
Finally, he pulled back. His mouth was wet, his eyes feral.
"You're responsive," he said, as if he hadn't just blown my soul out through my toes. "Good. That'll make the next phase easier."
I blinked at him. "There's a next phase?"
He gave a wolfish smile. "I told you. This is intensive care."
Then he stripped off his coat. His button-down. His belt.
Holy. Shit.
I was right, this man wasn't just sculpted—he was handcrafted and ripped out of a fantasy novel to please me and this lease was starving not for food but me.
"I need to test your endurance," he said, voice a low rumble. "Can your body take more? Can you come again? And again? Until your nerves can't tell the difference between pain and pleasure?"
My thighs clenched. I was soaked.
He unzipped his pants. My brain went static.
"No penetration," I whispered, trying to sound sane, I was anything but that . "This was supposed to be non-invasive—"
He leaned down, breath ghosting over my lips.
"Then I'll make do with my hands. My mouth. Every part of me but the one you want most. Until you're begging me to break your rule."
I whimpered.
His fingers slipped back between my legs—two this time, slow and merciless. He curled them just right, hitting that spot that made me sob.
"God, you're perfect," he muttered. "So reactive. So damn tight."
I was losing it, every coherent thought was long gone.
He pulled me close, his fingers still pumping inside me, his other hand wrapped around my throat, choking me and I could barely leave my eyes open.
"You're mine in this room, Aliyah. Mine to treat. Mine to train/"
I nodded wildly, drunk on the high of it all, I could only focus on the rhythm of his fingers in my pussy and God I wanted more. Something bigger. I wanted his cock filling all of my holes.
His thumb rubbed against my sensitive clit as his index and middle finger kept digging inside me, I could feel another orgasm and Dr. Lee placed his mouth on my pussy while fucking me senseless with those fingers.
I thrashed around, ''Dr. Lee please, it's too much. I ca- Oh- Fu-''
He didn't stop, not even after my juices spilled out of me, he drank it all up like it was the only thing he needed.
He let me go after eating to his fill and he pulled his fingers out and gently lifted my chin.
"You are beautiful, Aliyah but fuck look more beautiful after you've come for me." he said.
I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak.
"See you next session." he whispered. "Keep in mind that it will be more intense than this."