Lilly could feel the familiar pressure begin to rise as the doctor manipulated her sensitive flesh. She wanted him to stop, she wanted her husband. But soon, as his finger became wet with her juices and began sliding over and over that little button, her body betrayed her. Now all she wanted was more. She wanted him to press harder, rub faster. She cried out and bucked her hips as his finger continued to tease her engorged bud. ‘Please!’ she gasped. ‘PLEASE!’ she pleaded, her limbs taut against the restraints. And the doctor did rub a little harder then, a little faster. The pressure mounted as Lilly panted and thrust when suddenly the doctor removed his hand.
‘Lillianne, I know your illness makes this difficult for you, but for your therapy to be successful I need you to try and remain calm while I set the pace. I need to concentrate and bring the paroxysm on slowly or this will not be effective.’
‘O-of course, doctor, I’m sorry,’ Lilly whispered shakily. Her bound body twitching, her heart pounding, Lilly lay helpless while the doctor recommenced. Choking back her cries, she tried her best to control her reactions while his fingers stroked her increasingly sensitive flesh. Slowly. Ever so slowly.