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.

"I, I mustn't touch my aching pussy because Sir will see to it soon."

"Very good girl." He found himself walking faster. "Clench that pussy for me, right now. Tell me how it feels."

"Oooh! Oh, God!" she exclaimed. "It feels so good."

"Does it help?" he asked. "Does that make the ache recede?"

"No," she responded with a definite whine of frustration in her voice. "That makes it worse."

"I see. This could be serious." Her house was coming into view. "Squeeze your thighs together. Tell me how that feels."

"Must I, Sir? Shouldn't I just wait for you?" she asked plaintively.

"Are you questioning my methods?"

"No," she responded quickly. "I'll do it, Sir. Now."

He heard her sharp intake of breath and gentle moan.The cadence of her breaths began to turn to shudders.

"That's it. Rub those soft little thighs together just a bit."

She whimpered quite distinctly.

"Good girl," he breathed.

"Yes..." she whispered in response.

"Tell me," he ordered gently. "Tell me how that little pussy is feeling. Look at it, little girl. Pull those panties away from your smooth little stomach and tell me what you see."

"It's so pink, Sir. And shiny. My little lips are so puffy." After a quick gasp she continued. "Oh! The cool air against it feels very, very nice."

"I'm guessing those little lips are hot to the touch. Do NOT touch them, little girl."

"Oh, no, Sir. I wouldn't dream of it," she whispered.

"Hands back behind you back. Now" he instructed.

"Oh, Sir," she began to plead but then caught herself. "Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. Now, you've been so good. Would you like a treat? Something to make you feel better?"

"Oh, yes, Sir," she chirped.

"You have been good, correct?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Say it, little girl."

"I have been very, very good for Sir. I would love a treat. Please, please Sir."

"I'm almost there, little girl. Are you excited?"

"Yes!"

"Are you ready for my exam? It will be long and thorough."

"Mmmh. Please..."

"Tell me, are you little nipples hard?"

"Yes, Sir"

"I want you to pinch them. Not yet, but when I tell you."

He heard the rustling of blankets as she moved her hands up from behind her back.

"Now, baby. Pinch them, hard."

He heard her gasp and groan. She moaned his name and her thanks.

"Harder," he said tensely. "Tug them up off your tight little body".

"It hurts, Sir," she moaned pitifully.

"Give them a twist. Like I would if I was there."

She yelped softly and he closed his eyes, losing his coordination mid-stride on her very block.

"Hands off your body."

He listened as her short little pants turned into shallow whimpers.

"How's that ache, little girl?"

Her only response was a series of coos and gasps, little bird sounds.

"On your stomach, now."

He heard her respond to his command. Her voice was still trapped in her body behind her lust and excitement.

"Press your face to the pillow and put the phone right in front of you." He gave her a moment to comply. "Good girl. Now, up onto your knees like a perfect little patient. Take those hands and move them down to your hips. Slide those little panties down just a few inches. That's it, just below your cheeks."

He heard her gasp for air and mumble.

"Yes, little girl?"

"I'm so tingly, Sir. I need you so badly," she cried.

"I know."

"Please hurry, Sir. My little pussy is so pink and swollen!"

"Is your toy there beside you on your nightstand? What do you have?"

Her little brow furrowed in consternation. Nevertheless she turned to her right and listed the things on the small wooden table: her vibrator, the lube, her hairbrush, a tube of her favorite lip balm and a book of poetry.

He growled, "One hand gripping the iron headboard. The left one. Tell me when you've done it."

"It's there, Sir. Holding tight," she answered.

"That right hand? Pick up that hairbrush. Move it between your legs."

Even through her heavy breathing she could faintly hear his footsteps pounding up the stairs.

"It's there, Sir. What now?" she mewled.

"Spank that little pussy with the flat of the paddle. It's been bad. Making you ache so. Give it a hard slap."

"Oh, noooo..." she pleaded.

"Don't you make me repeat myself, or you'll be sorry. And don't go easy on yourself or I'll know. You want to be a good girl for me, don't you?"

"Mmmph! Yes, yes, Sir," she whispered. "I'll do it."

"Kick those blankets down to the foot of the bed. Expose yourself to that room and in front of those windows."

"Yes..."

"On three you will slap that wet little gash for me. Why?"

"I, I... Because you're the Doctor and I'm a good girl. I do as I'm told and you know best."

"Excellent. One."

He heard her take a deep breath and hold it. He hit the top landing of her porch.

"Two."

He passed the window beside her front door and saw her there in bed with her face buried in the soft pillows. His cock surged. He put his hand on the knob and turned. He walked in just as her head snapped to meet his.

"Three."

Neighbors for a full block turned their heads as her sharp shriek tumbled out her open door and down onto the street. As he moved to close the door behind him a small smile crept across his face.

"Again," he said.

*****************

For MExclusive in reciprocity for the tiny trees and other gifts. As always, thanks for reading and let me know if you spot any typos.

December 2014