Dox

I'm specializing in very long and very slow-burn tales. If you are expecting torrid

love scenes from page one, you will be disappointed.

This is about seduction more than sex, but it is about sex too.

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Dox

By Christina di Filippo

1- Mel

My name is Melissa, but everyone calls me Mel. Mel means honey in Portuguese, and people say the name fits me well. I wonder!

I am 26 years old and work as a physiotherapist in a large hospital in São Paulo. I specialize in pre- and post-surgery care such as mobility and physical therapy, cardio-respiratory therapy, and emotional and psychological support.

I was born right in the boondocks of Brazil, as the single daughter of a bank manager and a housewife. My mother was very religious and belonged to an evangelical church whose rules she obeyed strictly. The older she got, the stricter she became, to such an extent that one day my father -- whom I loved dearly -- left home. That was the key to an even stricter observance of her church's rules. I had to dress in church-approved clothes, have my hair done according to a church-approved style, and avoid contact with non-members. My life was planned so that I would marry a church member and become another victim of their religious system. I didn't fight with my mother; I just couldn't breathe. Any thought that deviated from the church rules was met with a barrage of scoldings and penances. In other words, my teenage years were pure hell.

A couple of weeks after I turned 18, my father died, leaving me a considerable amount plus the house where my mother and I lived. My mother started pestering me that I should make a substantial donation to the church. That's when I caught a bus, without warning anybody, without any luggage, apart from a change of underwear and my notebook, and came to São Paulo alone, to start a new life. As soon as I got to São Paulo, I called my mother and told her that I had left and had no intention of coming back so soon. Her reaction was not the reaction of a mother, but that of a church member that saw me renege on my obligations.

"Are you going to get married outside the church?"

"Marrying is the last of my preoccupations just now!"

"And when are you making your donation to the church?"

After a few seconds, "Never!"

"Your soul must have been enchanted by the devil. I will ask the bishop to call you."

"Bye, mom!"

One of my first tasks in São Paulo was to get a new phone number and cancel the old one. I had decided to burn the bridges behind me.

The second task was to open a bank account, transfer all my money, and find an investment adviser. I found that if I didn't overspend, I could live off the income from my inheritance without using up the principal.

I spent a few days trying to understand the city, without a single soul to orient me. I was able to rent a studio in a decent neighborhood and settle down.

I then went to look for information about university courses. In Brazil, some public universities do not charge tuition or fees and, for this reason, are very sought after. The ratio between candidates and openings in physiotherapy is 20:1 and in medicine 100:1. I signed up to take the physiotherapy test, which would happen in four months.

I used the four months to cram for the tests. I didn't go except for food. I took the test and after some nail-biting days, I learned that I ranked 28th out of 25 spots. Three more weeks of biting my nails, waiting for three people ahead of me to drop out. That ended up happening, and I was the last one in. It wasn't brilliant, but I was in!

Here I was, living alone, without debt or any major financial commitments. And without a church to dictate my life. One of the few remaining rules of my mother's that I still observed was that I didn't shave my private parts. I kept the area around my pussy short, using scissors, but I could not reach my ass area. On the one hand, I didn't have anyone for whom I should do more than I was already doing. On the other hand, getting somebody to do it for me was the path to damnation and hell. I shaved my legs up to my groins (which, by itself, would certainly get me a long stay in purgatory), and that was that.

I spent the time before classes started doing what normal teenagers do. I was discovering a new world! I went to the movies, to the mall, bought new clothes (different from my earlier ones) and so on. One day, I walked into a hair salon and got my hair cut very short, in a pixie style.

I made a few female friends in college, but nothing to write home about (pun intended). A few guys tried to get closer, but there was no exchange of pheromones. After a few clumsy kisses, and some rather rude caresses, I swore off men. Listening to my friends, I very quickly learned about masturbation. Believe me or not, this was new to me! I ended up finding out some porn sites that had a variety of videos, some of them about lesbian love. Every night I would watch them, alone in my room, catching up with many years lost.

When I was in the third year of college, the church was able to track me down in São Paulo with the news that my mother had died. I flew back for the burial, out of some undeserved respect for her. After the service, the bishop came to me and asked if I didn't want to donate the house to the church. I said, "You wish!"

"It would make a nice tribute to your mother."

"She doesn't deserve any tribute."

I donated the contents of the house to the Salvation Army and hired a local real estate agent to arrange for its sale. I was cutting my last link to a very unhappy part of my life.

2- Dox

Maria Eudoxia Correia e Castro Guimaraens. I had never seen such a beautiful name. It exuded nobility, as did its owner. You would expect that such an upper-class gal, with such a name, would be a person who looked down on people who didn't come from the same background as her. You could not be more wrong.

Though Maria Eudoxia is among the rarest names I know, everybody called her Dox. When she became an MD, she became Doc Dox, a joke she accepted with a smile.

Dox is one of the most elegant women I have ever met. Scratch that. The most elegant. She is not very tall, probably 5'9" or 5'10" in flats, lean, with, I guess, B or C-cup breasts and a perfect posture, always standing straight. She had a permanent smile on her lips. If she didn't have that name, Mel would be the adequate name for her. She is sweet, with a musical voice and the ability to give full attention. Despite all that, at 34 she is still single.

She attended medical school and graduated as the top student in her class. After that, she specialized in surgery on the female reproductive system. At her age, she was already one of the leading specialists in her field.

3- Mel + Dox

I met Dox at the hospital where we both worked. I was a trainee physiotherapist, and she was already becoming a well-known name in her profession. The French use an expression for love at first sight - coup de foudre - that means being hit by lightning. That is what I felt when I first met her.

A physiotherapist helps to prepare the patient for surgery and, most importantly, helps him or her to recover the respiratory or movement abilities after surgery. In the case of surgery on the female reproductive system, learning to control peeing is oftentimes a major issue. That involves not only muscle control but also psychological support. No one accepts peeing their pants calmly.

For some unexplained reason, Dox liked my work and took me under her wing. She gave me a lot of work and a lot of feedback. She was sweet, and patient, but very demanding. I learned a lot with her, and she encouraged me to train to become an ICU physio.

Our contact was mainly professional, but sometimes we happened to have lunch at the same time, and she always invited me to sit with her. We could not be any more different. I was a loner hillbilly, and she was a social star, speaking many languages and traveling around the world at various conferences. She never used that to show off; on the contrary, she nudged me to study, publish, and learn languages.

It took me quite a while to be capable of writing my first paper, which was part of the requirement to become a full ICU physio. Dox revised it umpteen times and made lots of suggestions. She didn't write it for me, she just pushed me in the right direction. After I passed all the tests, she arranged for its publication, which made me very proud. When it was published, she threw a nice party in a restaurant near the hospital. She just couldn't invite everybody because ICUs are non-stop businesses.

She raised a toast, "To Mel, for her first of many articles!"

I replied, "To Doc Dox, the hardest, strictest, but the sweetest mentor one could wish for!"

I won't say we became close friends, but even though she was a 33-year-old reputed doctor, and I was a 25-year-old physio at the beginning of my career, we developed a camaraderie. I was deeply in love with her, but never crossed the line. She never showed that she understood my feelings towards her.

One day, we were having lunch, and she asked me out of the blue how old my mother was when she died.

"I was 22, so she was 44, I think."

"What of?"

"I knew very little about that period of her life. By then, we were estranged. At her funeral, the people at the church mentioned she had ovarian cancer, but there was nothing I could do, so I didn't explore the subject."

She thought for a moment and asked, "Have you discussed that with your gyno? Who is she? Or he?"

I felt embarrassed, and replied, "Well, I don't have one."

"Which doctor oversees your gynecological exams?"

I felt even more embarrassed, and replied, "Well, I don't have one, either."

She straightened up and leaned against her chair, "What? I can't believe you, Mel. You are a health professional!" She held my hand and said, "I don't want to alarm you, but you belong to a risk group if your mother's cause of death at such a young age was indeed ovarian cancer."

I tried to reply, but could not find anything sensible to say. She looked at her phone and said, "Tomorrow at 4:30 you will come to my office, and I will examine you!." Just like that, it was a command, not an invitation. I was very embarrassed and agreed to go.

4- Dox becomes my doctor

The following day, I got to her office at 4:30 sharp. She wasn't there but sent me a message, "Finishing up a procedure. Will be 20 minutes late." Doctors' minutes must be longer than 60 seconds because she arrived at 5:15.

She started by taking my personal medical history.

She asked about my present illnesses, complaints, and disorders. I replied none to all of them. Then the usual questions, whether I smoked, gained, or lost weight and exercised to which I replied no for all three.

She looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, "A physiotherapist that doesn't exercise?"

"Well, I walk to and from work whenever it isn't raining and get a lot of exercise with my patients."

Then she asked about diseases in my family. I couldn't reply to that question, which led to a long conversation about my personal history and my relationship with my mother. I became emotional because that is not an easy subject for me, and I never discuss it with anyone. She let me tell my story without interrupting. I must have cried a river because I used up all the tissues in the box she offered me. She, as usual, was smiling and friendly the whole time.

"Have you never sought help from a professional? A psychologist, an analyst?"

"According to Mom, the church is the only psychologist one may ever need. Talk to your pastor, she would say."

"Mel, I understand now how your teen years must have been difficult. I understand the sort of load that has been crammed into your brain. I understand how difficult it must have been to escape from your mum and her church, and how brave it was that you did. It is a new life now, and I am here to help you in any way I can to un-cram all that load."

She stood up and said, "Let us start with your physical health first. Strip naked, please." She then weighed and measured me. "Now hop up here." She tapped to the gynecological chair, where she took my blood pressure.

I was very nervous because nobody had ever seen me naked since I was a toddler. Removing my clothes was difficult, especially if you consider that all I wanted was to be naked with her. I climbed onto the chair with my knees together. She looked at me surprised.

"You don't believe in shaving, do you?"

I blushed and said, "It's one of the few remnants of my mother's rules."

She asked me to recline to examine my breasts. She showed me how to self-examine them and what I should be looking for. She squeezed my nipples looking for secretions, and although it was a medical procedure, the sensation of her hands on them was highly erotic. I started to get wet.

She then, very gently, placed my legs on the stirrups. At 25, it was the first time anyone looked at my pussy, and Dox was exactly the one I wanted to do it. She pulled a stool and sat between my legs and very gently examined the external part of my pussy. She pushed the hood of my clit, and it jumped out. While she was very professional, I was full of erotic thoughts. I was getting wetter by the second. She then opened my labia and looked into my vagina. I am sure I was very wet by then. She couldn't miss it.

"Are you a virgin, Mel?"

"Yes," I said, blushing as if I had done something wrong.

She then got a speculum, pulled a strong examination lamp, and opened my vagina, looking inside. She collected a smear and explained, "That will go to the lab."

Following that, she lubricated one finger of her glove and said, "I will insert my finger in your rectum. It may be a little uncomfortable, but it will be quick." She then did it as told, and I felt a pleasurable sensation. I never thought that having a finger up my asshole would give me pleasure, but I think I squeezed her finger and moaned.

All in all, the exam was simple, but it got me very excited. She must have seen and smelled my pussy, but didn't say anything.

She requested a couple of blood and urine tests and said, "That's all for now. When you get the lab results, let me know so we can schedule your follow-up appointment."

One week later I returned, and she told me everything was OK. "You must find a gynecologist and repeat the tests next year. If you don't know any, I can recommend a couple that work here at the hospital."

"Why not you?"

"Firstly, because I am a surgeon and not a gynecologist. Secondly, because you are a dear friend of mine. I doubt it, but that may affect my judgment. Why run the risk?"

5- Dox becomes my friend

After my appointment with Dox, her relationship with me changed somewhat. Instead of talking about the weather or hospital politics, for instance, she became much more interested in me. In a way, she admired the fact that I had been able to leave my past behind and come to São Paulo by myself at such a young age.

She wondered how I managed to leave my hometown of 40,000 people and come to São Paulo, with its 11.5 million, without ever having been here before. She wondered how I, who had spent my entire life caught between the ideas of the church and my mother's madness, managed to become independent all of a sudden. She wondered how good a student I must have been to qualify for a place in the state university on my first attempt.

"You are a brave girl, Mel."

"It's not bravery alone. You know the boiling frog story."

One day - a Friday - she asked me, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, I do. Why?"

"Tomorrow you will come with me."

"Where?"

"Surprise!"

On Saturday, she picked me up at home and took me to a waxing specialist. She introduced me to Lena, the specialist, and said, "Lena, this is the girl I talked to you about. She needs your services. Badly." Then, she turned to me and said, "Lena is the best. She will take you from the 19th to the 21st century in a couple of hours. I will pick you up at home tonight at 08:30." And then she left. So, for the second time in a couple of weeks, I was naked with my private parts exposed. Lena did the whole shebang, armpits, pussy, and ass, in addition to a few spare hairs on my breasts. All I could choose was the shape of the part above the pussy (I chose a small triangle). Pussy and ass were waxed off, positively not the best experience.

It was exciting that I was becoming a closer friend of Dox's. It was even more exciting to know that she thought about my pussy and helped me to "come to the 21st century." When I got home, I masturbated thinking of her.

Later in the day, I sent Dox a message asking what I should wear, and she answered, "Whatever you want. Jeans and a nice shirt, or even a nice t-shirt or a light dress will do." I ended up opting for the dress, just because I had one that I had never worn before.

She picked me up past 09:00. I think doctors haven't grasped the concept of punctuality.

Dox was gorgeous in a light dress with a short skirt that showed half of her thighs.

"You look beautiful! Where are we going? I will not be up to the competition."

"You do not look bad yourself. We are going to a party, and you will look amazing in that dress." was the only answer I managed to extract. Thank goodness the car was dark, and she didn't see me blush because of the compliment.

The party was in a large house on an enormous plot of land in an elegant neighborhood. It belonged to someone in her family, and the celebration was for the thirtieth birthday of a cousin of hers. She introduced us and they looked like sisters.

"This is Mel. The sweet girl I talked to you about." And then, "This is Angela, my beloved cousin who is turning 30 today, against my advice."

Her cousin welcomed me and said, "Oh, Mel, I've been so eager to meet you. Dox has been telling me nice things about you."

I thought, surprised, "Has Dox really been talking about me?"

Angela winked and pulled me into the middle of the party, introducing me to several handsome guys and stunning girls. I was offered drinks, which I prudently refused, and I was invited to dance, which I had never done before. Dox came out of nowhere and saved me, taking me to the dance floor and whispering a few basic rules, "Try to move your body in synch with the music. Don't worry about what people will think about your dancing prowess. They are all worried about what you think about theirs."

She then pulled me by the hand, and we started dancing together. After a few moments, I think I got the gist of it. That was when she disappeared and left me alone in the middle of the floor. Several guys and girls appeared in succession out of nowhere, danced with me (or was it just in front of me?), and disappeared again. Some of them invaded my personal space, which, in the beginning, was a bit frightening. But then I got used to it, and even liked it, especially when the girls did it. Dox then came back to rescue me, and we went to the bar (yes, there was a bar) and drank water.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"I wasn't prepared to have so many different things happening all at once. The church parties back at home were rather different.

"Haha, I bet they were."

Dox then pulled me back to the dance floor just as the DJ switched to slow music. She hugged me and started to dance, "Follow me." I tried my best, and we danced to a couple of songs. I felt I was in heaven. The aroma of her perfume, the warmth of her touch, the closeness of our bodies, and her nipples rubbing against mine... Oh my, I thought I was going to have an orgasm there and then.

Again, she disappeared suddenly and left me talking to Angela, her cousin. She asked, "Are you and Dox dating?"