A Trip To The Doctors One

I didn't mean to say it that dramatically.

"I think my vagina's broken."

Layla spat out her iced coffee so violently, she almost baptized the sugar packets. She clutched her chest like I'd just told her I was secretly a lizard.

"Aliyah!" she gasped between coughs. "Jesus! You can't just-girl, what?"

I slumped in the booth, wishing the Earth would swallow me whole, or at least give me a distraction more exciting than the Sahara desert between my thighs.

"I'm serious," I muttered, stabbing at my croissant like it owed me wetness. "It's been weeks. Hell-months. I've tried everything. Lube, hydration, yoga. Even that weird breathing video you sent me that looked like a cult initiation and kegel exercises."

Layla was still wheezing, but now she was laughing too. "Okay, wait, I'm not laughing at you. It's just... the way you said it. Like your coochie needs therapy."

"I'm starting to think she does."

Because this wasn't just annoying anymore. This was starting to feel personal. Like my own body was holding out on me. Not just sexually, but emotionally. Like I'd lost access to a part of myself I used to be proud of.

I leaned back, sighing. "I haven't even been with anyone lately. I'm not saying I want a man in me right now, I just want to know my body could be ready for one. Or even just want one. But nothing. Not a drop. Not even a tingle."

Layla's teasing expression faded. She leaned in, her voice soft now. "That's actually serious. Have you seen a doctor?"

"Ugh, yes. He told me to drink more water and 'watch less crime documentaries before bed.' I was this close to throwing a pen at him."

Layla's lip curled. "Trash."

Then her eyes glinted. And that glint? Dangerous. Always meant trouble. Always meant something.

"I have a guy."

I squinted. "Layla."

"No, hear me out! He's a private gynecologist. Dr. Jay Lee. He's discreet. Professional. Smart as hell. And he looks like a Korean actor, I doubt you'll be needing any touching to get wet."

I blinked. "So, hot."

"So hot he could bring a nun out of celibacy."

"Layla."

"I'm serious!" she laughed. "He helped me once. You know... when I had that little 'reaction' to my ex's latex kink-"

I shuddered. "Please don't remind me."

"He never judged me once, just listened to me and asked the right questions. And girl, I'm telling you his fingers felt like heaven and it wasn't even sexual."

I tried to pretend I wasn't intrigued. But I was.

So what if I'd been betrayed by my own body lately? So what if I'd started Googling "vaginal drought home remedies" at 2 a.m.? Maybe I didn't need a spiritual cleanse or a tub of coconut oil. Maybe I just needed a different kind of specialist.

"What's the catch?" I asked slowly.

"He doesn't advertise, it is usually referrals and your first private consultation is off the books if you want."

That was... suspicious and hot, but mostly suspicious.

"Do you trust him?"

"With my coochie," Layla said solemnly.

Well. Damn.

"...Fine," I mumbled. "Set it up. But if I end up on some underground organs harvesting kink site-"

"I'll be the one filming."

After much thought, which was basically three days. I have in to curiosity and went to the clinic.

At least that's what i thought until I walked in, it didn't look anything like a clinic it looked more like a five star hotel lobby and a spa if that makes sense.

I sat stiffly on a velvet chair, heart thudding like I'd swallowed a marching band. I kept telling myself: This is a medical visit. You are an adult. Your vagina is not a national emergency.

Then the door opened.

And all that inner pep talk melted like butter under a blowtorch.

"Miss Aliyah Monroe?"

His voice makes me nearly turn into puddle as I sat there, it was smooth, low and wrapped me like a silk gown, never in a million years had Aliyah sounded so refined like a fucking invitation.

I looked up-and forgot what breathing was.

This man is fucking tall, roughly 6ft and holy fucking hell, he's not skinny. This man is a funky hunk, with broad shoulders and I'm certain a toned abs under that scrub. God, for a deserted coochie it sure was clenching so hard when our eyes met.

Oh no.

He smiled gently. "You can follow me in."

My legs worked. Somehow.

And as I stepped into his office, all I could think was, "This man is going to see my vagina before he even knows my favorite color."

And weirdly?

That didn't scare me.

That excited me.

His office smelled like sandalwood and something faintly sweet. Not like a hospital at all.

Dr. Jay gestured toward the sleek black leather chair across from his desk. I sat. Crossed and uncrossed my legs. My palms were suddenly clammy.

He sat down too, hands clasped, eyes fixed on mine-professional, focused... yet not cold.

"So," he began. "What brings you in today?"

His voice was like a velvet rope wrapping slowly around my spine.

I cleared my throat, determined to stay rational. "I've been experiencing, um... some persistent dryness. Down there."

His eyes didn't flicker. No judgment. No twitch of amusement.

"I see. Is this something recent or ongoing?"

I was very aware of how my thighs pressed together. "It's been a few months. I've tried hydration, diet changes, over-the-counter products. Nothing really helps."

"Any pain during arousal or intercourse?"

My mouth went dry. "...There hasn't really been either. Not for a while."

He tilted his head slightly, studying me in a way that felt... undressing.

"Loss of libido?"

"I think it's more like my body stopped... cooperating. Mentally, I still want-"

I stopped. My tongue betrayed me.

He leaned forward. "You want...?"

My eyes met his.

God, what was happening?

He didn't blink. "Aliyah. You can say it. There's nothing shameful about desire. Especially when it's gone unfulfilled for a long time."

I swallowed hard. His voice had shifted-lower, and became. I wasn't imagining it.

"I want to feel... aroused again," I admitted, voice barely a whisper. "I want to feel like I'm not broken."

Dr. Jay stood and walked around the desk. Slowly. Controlled. Like a man who knew his power.

He crouched in front of me-not in a rush, not assuming anything. Just... near.

"I'm going to ask you something," he said softly. "And I want your honest answer."

I nodded.

"When was the last time someone touched you in a way that made you want to be wet?"

My breath hitched.

He was too close. And yet, not close enough.

"I... I don't remember," I whispered.

He reached out-slow, deliberate-and gently placed two fingers beneath my chin, tilting my face toward his.

"I'm going to help you remember," he murmured.

My heart thundered. "I thought this was a consultation."

"It is," he said calmly. "But healing doesn't always look clinical, sometimes it's about reconnecting with your body, with your craving or with what's yours."

I should've walked out.

I should've said something sassy and left with my legs tightly crossed and my dignity intact.

I whispered, "Then show me."

His lips barely brushed mine. Calm down Aliyah, this is just a test. A tease. But my body flared to life like it'd been waiting for this exact moment to wake up.

And when he kissed me for real-slow, hot, possessive-it was like I'd been set on fire from the inside out.

His hand slid to my thigh, parting it with agonizing patience. My pulse pounded between my legs like a warning bell-or maybe a countdown. His other hand cupped my jaw as he deepened the kiss, and I swear I melted under his touch.

Every part of me that had felt numb lit up with electricity.

And then, just as quickly, he pulled away.

His eyes were darker now. Less doctor, more predator.

"That," he murmured, brushing a thumb across my swollen bottom lip, "was just an exam of your response system."

I blinked. "...I think I passed?"

His smirk made my thighs clench.

"We're just getting started."

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 cookie."

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."

I stared at the elevators climbing like a countdown to my doom, or maybe orgasm.

My thighs pressed together on instinct, a very useless attempt at calming the throbbing of my pussy just from memory.

Fuck. I have become addicted to him.

No one had ever paid any attention to me that way, nobody. Not once.

And I know he's just doing his job but fuck, he does it so well.

I got the reception and the assistant that always greeted me sat there with that sly smile plastered on her face.

"Dr. Lee will see you now," she said sweetly, like there was something different about today's session.

I stepped into the room with my heart racing and my clit already pulsing just from being near him.

Dr. Jay turned from the counter, flipping through a chart calmly.

"Aliyah," he said, eyes dragging up my body. "Always the punctual patient."

"I wanted this to be over with," I lied through my teeth, I wanted anything but our relationship to be done with.

He smirked tsking. "You turn bright red when you lie, Ali."

Jay, circled around me, a really sick glint filled his eyes and if I thought whatever plan he had for me would make me beg in ways I didn't find prude.

"You must be wondering why I look more official today," he said, brushing hair back from my face like I was his and had always been his.

I nodded slowly.

"Well," he murmured, voice low and devastating, "today's visit is part of a formal response assessment. I've logged your previous symptoms, initial stimulation tolerance and now I want to test your stamina."

"S-stamina?"

He motioned to the padded chair, but there was something new beside it.

A mirror.

"You'll be watching this session," he said.

Fuck no, that'd be embarrassing.

"I want you to see how your body betrays your mind," he continued. "How arousal manifests in your breath, your muscles, your sounds. By the end of today..." He leaned down, lips barely brushing mine. "You will most likely be pleading for my cock.

"And if I don't?" I whispered, just to poke the bear.

His eyes darkened. "I know you will."

He guided me into the chair like I was made of glass and each touch made my skin tingle with nerves.

"Look at yourself," he said.

I glanced up and immediately wished I hadn't. I was exposed, my legs spread wide open by the wedge cushion, and my robe kept sliding off my shoulder, revealing my taut nipples.

"Tell me what you see," he ordered.

"I-I see myself."

His brow quirked. "That's disappointing. I see a desperate little patient filled with lust and whose pussy is staining my chair with her pussy juice before I even touch her."

I whimpered, from the exposure. I glanced up again. He was right, I could see it too.

My eyes were dilated, small and my mouth was slightly open. I look like a fucking slut.

His slut.

He snapped the gloves on, put my thigh further apart and slid between my legs, tapping the inside of my left thigh.

"You know the rules, do not touch me, do not plead, no orgasms until I allow it. What happens if you break them?"

I nodded, breath shallow. "I lose the privilege of being here."

"Good girl."

His fingers traced around my clit, not on it very slowly. My hips twitched trying to get his fingers to at least graze my clit.

"I said watch."

I forced my eyes to the mirror, if I ever thought my reflection was slutty it was way worse. My makeup was smudged and runny.

Then one finger slid inside. Then two. Curling, teasing-but never hard enough. Never deep enough.

"You're so wet it's leaking onto the cushion," he murmured. "Is that embarrassment I see?"

I bit my lip, hips grinding down.

"Don't." He pulled back. "I'm not here to make you come yet. Your body is getting used to being stimulated, let's see how much more you can deal with."

It was unbearable, my clit throbbed intensely as I clenched around nothing.

"Jay, please-"

He stood, towering over me with a cold demeanor. "Are you breaking the rule?"

I trembled. "Yes. I don't care. Please. Please, I want it. I need you. Inside me."

His eyes sharpened. "Say it properly."

I stared at my reflection. I looked needy, flushed and dripping.

"I want you to fuck me," I whispered. "Please, Dr. Lee. I need your cock. I want it deep. I know I said no fucking but if this is going to be my last session, I need to feel your cock inside of me, please."

He quickly tore off his gloves and undid his belt, I watched with a watery mouth as his cock sprung free.

Whoever said Asian men has small dicks were fucking liars, the cock facing me right now was about 8inches long and had girth as well.

I had never taken anything more than 5 inches before, how could I take this?

"Finally," he muttered, rubbing the tip of his cock on my pussy.

There was no way his cock would fit inside me, "I- I don't think you will fit."

"With the way your pussy is trying to pull me in, I am certain it will fit, Aliyah."

He yanked me to the edge and thrust into me-one brutal, glorious motion. I cried out, loud, raw.

"Fuck you're so fuckinh tight keep your eyes on the mirror," he growled against my ear.

I did as I was ordered, my eyes turned to the mirror and I could barely keep it open.

I looked gone as jay's longs stroke plunged deep inside me, my mouth hung open as silent gasps escaped me.

Fuck. I can't handle this anymore, Jay pounded deeper, grunting with every stroke.

"I wanted to be deep inside you from the moment you walked into my office," he gritted into my neck. "You love this don't you, you love how my cock slams into you."

"Yess," I gasped. "Fuck, yes."

"For a dry pussy, it keeps pulling me in like a cock hungry monster."

Jay pulled my head to him, kissing me as his cock drilled my hole.

"Nobody is allowed to fuck you, nobody but me. Understood?"

He slammed harder. My nails dug into the chair. His hand wrapped around my throat-just enough to make me dizzy.

I could feel my orgasm building inside me, Jay did too because he didn't stop. He kept pounding, hitting my g-spot.

"Cum on my cock Aliyah," He grunted, his hands still wrapped around my throat.

And like a fucking obedient patient, I came hard but jay didn't stop.

He kept fucking me senseless until I was close to passing out.

I shadow cast around the room and I thought I was imagining things until my eyes darted to the mirror and I saw a reflection.

The receptionist? What was she doing here in a white coat?

She stood in the corner like she'd been watching him fuck me the whole time.

My breath caught.

"W-what-"

"Relax," Jay said, voice calm like this was normal. Like I wasn't naked and trembling and filled with him. "Maureen is here for formal data collection."

She stepped closer, calmly like this was fucking normal. Her gloved fingers flexed once before she moved beside me.

"Continue," she said, unbothered, clipboard in hand. "Patient's orgasm lasted approximately twelve seconds. Breathing is erratic. Muscle spasms still present."

Jay continued, this time his speed reduced but he thrusts deeper.

"She will assist in assessing stimulation tolerance," he said.

Her fingers brushed my nipple, pinching it slightly before rolling it.

Fucking hell.

I couldn't pay attention to one thing. Jay's cock deep in my pussy or Maureen's finger teasing my nipple while her other hand played with my clit.

It was too much.

"I can't do this," I breathed out.

"Clitoral sensitivity increased," she noted. "Dilated pupils. She's close again."

"No," Jay snapped. "Not yet, you're not coming yet."

Her other finger on my clit didn't stop, she pinched it slightly and massaged it slowly, making me drip more on Hay's cock.

I didn't think it was ever possible to be this wet while being fucked.

I sobbed, unable to hold on anymore

"I-I can't-"

"You can," Maureen said flatly. "And you will."

Jay growled in approval. "That's it, Aliyah. Be a good girl for me, Aliyah."

I writhed, the pleasure too much for me to bear. I needed to come, I can't hold it in anymore.

"Cum for me, cum on my cock," Jay ordered.

Maureen's motion on my clit increased and Jay's strokes increased.

I didn't hold back, I came harder than I ever had, longer and I didn't want to end.