Once upon a time in a building just on the far side of the square there worked a tiny girl with a very wet pussy and an equally filthy mind. She worked very hard and was beloved by all the nerds but she ached for something else, something more, something bigger.
One afternoon as she toiled away at her desk she got a message from her Doctor.
"You seem to be feverish. I want you to go home immediately, get undressed, get into bed and wait for me. Leave your panties on."
"Oh," she exclaimed, her heart rate surging suddenly. "Now, Doctor? Leave work in the middle of the day?"
"Yes, little girl. Don't you feel achy?"
"Yes, Sir. I do, quite suddenly."
"Then go home now," he ordered. "Do exactly as I've instructed. I'll be by to check on you soon."
"Yes, Sir," she whispered. "Thank you."
"What are you thanking me for, little girl?"
She stumbled over her words and was blushing as she typed her response.
"For taking such good care of me. You always know what I need."
"Good girl," he replied.
She made her excuses to her supervisor. She didn't know what had come over her, but she suddenly felt so out of sorts. Distracted. Agitated. No, she didn't think it was serious. She just needed some time in bed. Yes, she had someone who would come by to take care of her. One co-worker even offered to drive her home, but she declined
Instead she bundled up against the winter cold and made her way out into the world. A small smile played across her wet little lips the whole walk home. On her way up the three flights to her apartment her pocket buzzed. She checked her phone to find a text from the Doctor.
"Are you home?"
"Almost," she responded.
"Don't dawdle," he chided. "I expect you in bed any minute."
"Oh, yes Sir," she said out loud and then stopped to type the words.
She entered the apartment and greeted the cat. He was asleep on the bed and perplexed by her being home so early.
"I had to come straight home," she mused out loud to him. "I'm feeling very poorly and the Doctor is going to come and give me what I need."
She hung up her coat and laid her boots by the door to dry. She carefully washed her face and the rest of her body. She brushed her teeth and straightened up the odds and ends on her night stand. She left a small bottle of lube there as well as her favorite toy, unsure of what, if any, instruments the Doctor would require. She silently undressed and folded her clothes carefully on the trunk beside her bed. She slid into bed with a breathy little sigh and pulled the heavy blankets in around her tightly. As she settled deeply into the warm bedclothes her mind was drawn out the window immediately beside her. Snow was falling and swirling around in gentle waves. She absently ran her fingertips along her stomach. It felt so nice. Soothing.
Her hands moved to her breasts and she squeezed her nipples, tugging gently. Her small moan startled her as her eyes dipped closed.
"Oh, I mustn't!" she chided. "Doctor's orders."
Right on cue her cell phone began to chirp. The Doctor was calling. He didn't wait for her greeting before he started to speak.
"How are you feeling? Are you in bed?"
"Yes, Sir" she said. "I feel alright. I'll be better once you arrive."
"Describe your symptoms," he instructed.
"I, um, well..."
"Tell me what you feel, little girl."
She could hear the noises of the city all around him. He was making his way towards her. The thought made her pulse race.
"My heart, it's beating very fast, Sir."
She strained to hear the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, but could make out none.
"Go on," he said brusquely.
"It's getting more difficult to catch my breath."
"I see," he said. "What you describe sounds uncomfortable for you. Are you uncomfortable?"
"My body feels so tight, Sir. Everything is tense and my stomach is in knots."
"Tell me little girl," he asked. "Where does it ache?"
"Ache?" she asked shyly. He could sense her blush even across the phone line.
"Don't be coy," he said. "Tell me where you ache."
"I'm not sure..." she stuttered.
"Your throat?" he asked. "Does your throat ache?"
"No, Sir."
"What about your chest? Does it ache there?"
He caught her soft whimper.
"No..." she muttered.
"No?" he asked raising his voice. "No, what?" Realization dawning, he asked, "Where are your hands, young lady?"
He heard the telltale rustling of blankets as she struggled to regain her composure.
"Answer me."
"I'm, I'm sorry, Sir. " she pleaded. "I just get so overwhelmed sometimes. Your voice does things to me. I know you're close."
"Put me on speakerphone, little girl."
She did as he instructed.
"Now, hands behind your back until I arrive. Understand?"
She didn't answer immediately. He was losing his patience.
"Hands behind your back. Now," he spat.
"Yes, Sir." she said. "I'm sorry."
"Answer my question, please."
"You question?"
She heard his sigh.
"About my chest," she quickly remembered. "No, my chest doesn't ache, Sir."
"You said your stomach is in knots though?"
"Yes, Sir. Butterflies."
"So then, where does it ache, little girl?"
He could hear the blankets rustling as she squirmed instead of answering the question.
In a small voice, she finally whispered, "Lower. Lower, Sir."
"Lower," he chuckled. "It hurts lower? Like in your feet or legs?"
"No Sir," she continued in barely a whisper. ""It's, it's my..."
"Speak."
"My pussy, Sir!" she rushed. "I ache there. It's unbearable."
"Are you in pain, little girl?" he asked slowly.
The ambient noise around him had settled. He was off the main road and on one of the side streets closer to her house.
"Are you in pain, little girl?"
"Oh, mmm, pain, Sir?" He could almost hear her chewing on her bottom lip. "No Sir, not pain exactly."
"Interesting," he said. "Describe it to me."
"It feels so wet. It aches so sweetly," she sighed. "May I touch it, Sir?"
"Absolutely not," he said. "I am the doctor and I will see to you. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir," she responded albeit a tad dejectedly.
"Say it," He ordered.
