A Woman in Despair

After returning home, I completely lost my appetite. My thoughts were a chaotic loop replaying the raw, primal image of the man in the cornfield.

I lay in bed with one shoulder bared. A fine sheen of sweat formed on my forehead as I pressed my legs together.

Though I was nearly 40 years old, I kept my body perfectly in shape, full and curved in all the right places. Looking down at my full chest, I couldn't help but arch my back.

Summer had arrived, and for some reason, my strange sickness grew worse than ever.

I had heard rumors of a new doctor, Rodrick Walker, in the village. So, after biting my lips and thinking about it, I finally made up my mind to seek treatment. I wouldn't be able to lead a normal life if this sickness continued to escalate.

Early the next morning, I got dressed and headed to the clinic.

When I arrived, I was surprised to find that Rodrick was a tall, young, and well-built man. He approached me with a polite smile and asked, "What seems to be the problem?"

I looked away as my face stiffened with awkward embarrassment. Such a private obsession was hard enough to admit, and saying it to a strong, young man made it worse.

He sensed my hesitation and discomfort and gently led me into the inner examination room. His gaze was warm and reassuring, which made me feel completely at ease.

"Don't worry," he said softly. "I'm a doctor, so you don't have to feel ashamed here."

I could feel my cheeks burn as I opened my mouth and stammered, "I-I have… a desperate addiction to intimacy."

A flicker of surprise crossed his face, followed by a faint blush on his cheeks.

"Let's start with a quick examination," he suggested.

I nodded and couldn't help but tighten my fingers around my dress as I lay on the wide exam table.

When cool air brushed against my legs, it hit me that when I had hastily left the house that morning, I had put on a thong.

Rodrick stepped closer and stopped by the bed. His eyes behind his gold-rimmed glasses were gentle and calm, which felt oddly reassuring.

As his clean, masculine scent washed over me, my body couldn't help but soften, and I instinctively closed my eyes.

He positioned my legs apart, which exposed the damp fabric underneath. I could feel him stiffen as he lowered the bunched palm-sized fabric to my thighs and stared at me, totally mesmerized.

The thought that he might be affected made my body respond all the more eagerly.

Standing between my legs, he picked up a speculum. "I'm going to start the examination now. Please relax and tell me to stop if you feel any discomfort."

Blushing furiously, I nodded.

He professionally pulled on surgical gloves and leaned in to inspect me. The touch of his cool, gloved fingers brushing against my tiny bud sent another wave of unbearable itch through me, while an accidental graze immediately made my body react.

Under his touch, every inch of my bud felt amplified. Deep down, I desperately wished he wouldn't be so gentle and cried for him to be a little rougher.

It felt like only moments had passed before Rodrick finished the examination. I looked at him nervously as I got dressed in my damp clothes.

When I lowered my head, I couldn't help but notice the prominent, unmistakable bulge in his pants.

He adjusted his glasses and gave me a serious look. "The examination confirms that it is indeed a severe addiction. I suggest that you come here daily for release therapy until we see improvement."

I hesitated, but the thought of living with this hunger and sickness forever made me agree at once.

That evening, before returning to the clinic for my first official appointment, I tried to soothe the ache at home.

As I lay back on the familiar exam table, I shyly stripped off my clothes. I could feel Rodrick's rough, slightly calloused fingers grazing my most sensitive areas.

My eyes had lost their clarity and blurred under a thin sheen of moisture.

"It's too much," I blurted. The words escaped me before I could stop them.

I could feel his long fingers sliding downward and gently slipping inside. The hollow ache inside me eased slightly as the emptiness was filled.

As a series of thrilling sensations washed over me, soft, involuntary moans escaped my lips in the quiet clinic.

Rodrick's rough fingers pressed on my tiny bud as he rasped, "Like this? Does it help, or—"

Before he could finish, he exerted deliberate force into his fingers and rubbed against the bud. The stimulation left me squirming and writhing against the bed, overwhelmed by the ache.

"Doctor… I don't think I can hold on."

After I cried out, he reached into a drawer and produced a cylindrical device, then showed it to me. "Even if you can't, you still have to endure a little longer. It'll only get harder if you can't even manage the first day."

I could only nod obediently. When the cold surface of the device pressed against me, a muffled gasp escaped my lips. The sensation filled me with utter satisfaction, and my body reacted instantly.

I shuddered all over and shed tears from feeling too overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensation.

Rodrick observed me for a moment, then nodded in approval. "You're taking it well. Next time, we can try something larger."

Feeling utterly uncomfortable, I gripped his fingers, and tears welled up in my eyes. "When will this end, doctor? It's too cold—I can't take it anymore."

Rodrick gently stroked my hair. Before I could react, he withdrew the device and leaned in, gently sticking out his tongue to lick my sensitive skin again and again…

The air seemed charged with a strange intimacy, wrapping tightly around us. I curled my toes as a wave of pure pleasure crashed through me.

Looking up at him with dazed eyes, I silently begged him to come closer and dive deeper into me…