The Embarrassing Treatment Plan

I was forced to move up and down, caught between discomfort and pleasure. I was incredibly anxious and impatient, but at the same time, I was so overstimulated that I couldn't pull myself away.

Vincent hauled me up a split second before he was about to come, kissing me as he soaked my skirt. Then he pressed me onto the examination table from earlier.

The door was still wide open, and what had just happened left me with lingering fear. "T-The door isn't closed. Someone might see us," I stammered.

His hand traced circles around my waist. My lower body tightened, and despite the lack of direct contact, I released a fresh wave of moisture.

Vincent said, "You really are slutty. Isn't it better if they see us? Don't you want to be watched?"

He turned me over, my clothes pressing tightly against my chest as the cold table rubbed against me. He didn't enter me, yet I found the sensation even more thrilling than if he had.

The hot, hard length of him felt like it was burning more intensely. His movements grew increasingly fierce, and he couldn't stop himself. He slapped my butt a few times, making me tense on instinct.

"S-Slow down," I pleaded.

The only response I got was him pounding against me even harder.

…

Although we didn't go all the way, I felt surprisingly satisfied. Thinking about how none of my ex-boyfriends could compare to Vincent, I wanted to delete every single one of their contacts immediately. They were all just useless losers.

I had already missed my dorm's curfew, so Vincent took me to his place, but he didn't stay there. Instead, he booked a room at a nearby hotel. Before leaving, he gave me the door code.

"I'll be messaging you over the next few days. If you want to cure your condition, do exactly as I say," he said.

He made it clear that everything he did was part of my treatment. I knew my intense craving wasn't normal, so I didn't have much of an issue with his special treatment. Regardless, I had enjoyed myself, so I nodded in agreement.

Perhaps it was because my innocent and gentle appearance made me seem docile that, after glancing at me for a moment, he pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Goodnight," he said.

I grew damp once again and quickly shut the door.

…

The next day, Riley called me first. Before I could scold her, she explained that Vincent might have a bad temper, but his medical skills were exceptional. "He doesn't take simple cases, that's why I described you that way," she said.

Riley and I grew up together, and she had never harmed me. Reflecting on this, I nodded. "His skills are indeed impressive. The last session was very effective."

I was so exhausted that I didn't even dream last night.

Just then, Vincent sent me a message, so I ended the call with Riley. He asked if I was awake.

I replied, "I'm going to wash up and then head back to campus in a bit."

Vincent asked, "What are you wearing today?"

I answered, "The same as yesterday. I didn't bring a change of clothes."

Vincent replied instantly. "I left some new clothes for you at the door. Put them on and send me a photo."

I opened the door and found a gift bag. It contained a full outfit, including brand-new underwear. I put them on, and they fit perfectly. But they were quite tight, a far cry from my usual loose dresses. Most importantly, there was no bra.

Vincent messaged, "The treatment has begun. The first step today is to go without a bra."

My nipples were prominent through the thin fabric, making me hesitate. As if sensing my thoughts, Vincent sent a photo. It showed a veiny hand covered in moisture. Just looking at what he held reminded me of the foreign sensation between my legs from the previous night.

I touched my collarbone without thinking and was about to move down when he sent another message. "Don't touch yourself."

I grew even more restless, but reminding myself that this was part of the treatment, I forced myself to endure it.

Even though the fabric was chiffon, I couldn't stop feeling self-conscious about my breasts. Whenever I bent over slightly or sat down in public, I felt as if everyone was staring at me.

At noon, Vincent sent a message. "Take off your underwear and send me a photo."

He also sent a nude photo of himself after a workout.

I rushed into the women's restroom, carefully took a photo of the soaked fabric, and sent it to him. "What if I can't wear it anymore?" I asked.

Vincent then sent a voice message. I held the speaker to my ear at the lowest volume. He spoke in a low voice. "Then don't wear it, sweetheart."

I became even wetter. His words felt like a whisper against my ear, impossible to forget.

Since I wasn't wearing underwear, I unconsciously walked with my legs pressed together. Whenever I felt any hint of dampness, I immediately went to the restroom to wipe myself clean. If I could sit, I wouldn't stand.

After a full day of torment, my focus had shifted from my chest to my lower body, and finally to Vincent, who said he’d come to pick me up.

I started waiting for class to end at 4:45 pm. Although only 15 minutes remained, it felt like an eternity. My mind kept replaying images of Vincent's thick member and powerful arms. I lost count of how many times I swallowed hard.

The second the bell rang, I hurried out of the classroom with the crowd.

As soon as I got into the car, Vincent openly stared at my chest. I instinctively tried to cover myself, but he said, "It looks good. Don't hide it."

I had no choice but to lower my hands. The seatbelt hugged my curves, making the outline of my chest even more obvious. I noticed Vincent's Adam's apple bob slightly.

After the car entered the underground parking lot, he turned and bit my lip. I reacted almost instantly.

He nipped at my chest with a grin as his hand slid lower. The space inside the car was cramped. He pulled me onto his lap and caressed every inch of me. "How does it feel now?"

I was so frantic that my eyes nearly welled up with tears as I fumbled with his clothes. "I-It's too much. I can't take it anymore. I want—"

Vincent grabbed my hips and thrust upward. I cried out immediately. My strained expression was reflected in the car window as the vehicle shook rhythmically.

Vincent took out something else. It wasn't as thick as him, but it was quite long. He turned it to the highest setting in front of me and slowly pressed it inside.

Suddenly, footsteps came from outside the car. "Don't be so rough. What if someone comes by?"

That voice sounded familiar. It was Riley!

Outside the window, Riley was held in a guy's arms. His hands were wandering, working her into a frenzy. He buried his head in her neck, and then they suddenly leaned against Vincent's car.

Vincent abruptly shoved it deep inside, nearly making me scream. "You're getting distracted by that? Am I not enough for you, you little slut?"