A Cure for Melancholia

"Oh that wouldn't be polite dear," Dr. Livingston said.

"Don't you dare fucking open that goddamn door!" Cindy shouted, losing all pretense of being a proper lady. Anyone seeing her there on the floor, all spread out like some sort of slut, leaking on the floor like a faucet, would lose all respect for her.

Dr. Livingston ignored her and opened the door anyway.

"Can I help you?" Dr. Livingston said.

"Yes," the older woman said, sticking her long curious nose in the door to look around. "I just wanted to be sure you got here okay. That my directions were sufficient."

"They were perfect," Dr. Livingston said. "Next door to the right, just like you said."

The woman was making it hard, Mrs. Smith thought. Playing it close to the vest. She'd seen the case. Electronic. Marvel. Magnetic. Whatever it was, she deserved it. Not the young stuck up housewife that lived here.

"I couldn't help but notice your case," Mrs. Smith said. "After you left I couldn't help but wonder why you didn't stop at my house? Whatever you are selling here...it's only fair that I have my chance as well."

"Selling?" Dr. Livingston wondered. Perhaps she should try selling her device for all that people asked about it. However, it was doubtful they'd be able to buy such an expensive device. "You misunderstand. I'm a doctor, not a saleswoman. I'm here to treat Mrs. Johnson.

"Treat her?" Mrs. Smith asked, perking up at the thought of learning some new gossip. "Whatever does the poor dear have?"

"I shouldn't say this," Dr. Livingston whispered. "But she has melancholia."

"Melancholia?" Mrs. Smith asked. "Oh dear. Is it terminal?"


Could this be a new customer, Dr. Livingston wandered opened the door and ushered the woman in. "Would you like to come in for some tea? Then I could tell you all about it."

Poor Cindy Johnson. Leaking. Dripping. Tingling. Blushing furiously there on the floor. Helpless. Hearing the exchange at the door and her stomach filling with dread at the though. Finally taking matters into her own hands. "Mrs. Smith..." Cindy shouted from the den. "I'm indisposed at the moment. Please come back later."

Mrs. Smith hesitated momentarily. She wanted to come in now more than ever, but she didn't want to make the mistress of the house mad.

"Pay her no mind," Dr. Livingston said. "It's the melancholia talking."

"Don't you dare come in here," Cindy shouted. But she heard the two sets of steps echoing on against her polished wood floor. Damn! Double damn! "I mean it. I do. The den...the den is off limits to you....

bitch!!"

Cindy didn't even struggle at her bonds anymore. She knew it was useless. She hung her head in shame. That bitch didn't listen. What else could go wrong? Now, she'd be the talk of the block thanks to that gossiping old witch. Oh God. Spread as she was. Sweating. Leaking.

But then, she began to have hope once again when she heard Dr. Livingston stop Mrs. Smith in the doorway.

"Are you squeamish at all Mrs. Smith?" Dr. Livingston asked. "Because I must warn you that I'm treating Mrs. Johnson at this very moment. Do you consider yourself intellectual? Because some people find science a bit daunting."

"I consider myself a worldly woman.." Mrs. Smith said. "And I took care of my poor Harold before he passed away."

"Then come," Dr. Livingston said. "Let's go make a pot of tea and chat while Cindy finishes her treatment."


Mrs. Smith's curiosity was aroused, she wasn't sure what she expected to find, but what she didn't expect was a nude woman on her hands and knees, tied, spread, and with some sort of cord running out of her sex.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, her hand automatically going to her mouth.

"Don't stare dear," Dr. Livingston said. "You are embarrassing the poor thing. Let me put this bowl in place so she doesn't make a mess on her expensive rug. Now about that pot of tea..."

The two older women went to the kitchen and put a pot of water to boil, while Cindy kept her head lowered in shame. God, her neighbor had seen her dripping on her floor. Could it get any worse?

Back in the kitchen.

"What did you say she had?" Mrs. Smith asked.

"Melancholia."

"The treatment looks dreadful," Mrs. Smith said. "Is it painful?"

"The treatment itself feels rather good I'm told," Dr. Livingston said. "But you must understand the patient isn't of her right mind. She's prone to suffer from outbursts of temper, delusions, and spontaneous fits. Even suicide and death.

"I always knew there was something wrong with her," Mrs. Smith said.

And while the water began to boil in the kitchen, Cindy Johnson was coming to a boil in the den. She felt all tingly inside. So warm. So hot. Her loins were all aflame. Good God, it felt like she was going to go out of control. To have one of these fits the doctor spoke of. Was this a new symptom of her melancholia?

When the two older women returned to the den, Cindy's control had faded even further. Her back was drenched in sweat. She had gone down to her elbows. Her legs were now spread wider than they were tied. Her hips pumped rhythmically, trying to find purchase on the vibrating probe secured firmly in her sex. There was no sound except the droning hum of the vibrator, a young housewife heavy breathing, and the steady drip drip as her secretions dropped into the bowl beneath her.

And her mind screamed she should be embarrassed. She should be mortified. Yet her body was in firm control of her facilities now. The women's presence and her own helpless state made the lightning in her loins dance all the more.

The doctor brought two chairs in from the dining table, placing one between Cindy's legs and another near her head. The two older women sat down, with the naked housewife tied there between them.

"She sounds like a pig..." Mrs. Smith said, after taking a dignified sip of her tea. "Grunting and sqeaking...."

"The poor dear can't help it, it's the melancholia that has her." Dr. Livingston said. "Would you mind turning the dial there...yes...the first one. Could you turn it up to four please?"

Mrs. Wilson bent down until she was near the case. A knob? Oh there it was. She could smell the young housewife's sweat. Her arousal. She could feel her hot breath on her cheek. She could hear the whispered, oh God..oh dear God no.....as she turned the knob clockwise to four.

"Oh no...ah...ah...ah..." Cindy breathed. The sensations in her sex were magnified. She felt a welling up inside her body. As if something were going to explode. "Dr....I ....feel...as if ..I'm ab out to have...some sort of....seizure...."


"Fight it," Dr. Livingston urged. "Fight it." But instead of helping the housewife with the battle she was fighting against her body, the doctor Unhooked the probe from the strap and began to pump it in and out. Working her with it.

"It must be dreadfully painful?" Mrs. Smith said, her voice growing breathy.

"I wouldn't know," Dr. Livingston said. "But she certainly is making a fuss over it, isn't she?"

Every muscle Cindy owned tensed up, yet that didn't stop the feeling of warmth that flowed through her tender loins. Then pleasure like she'd never known hit her like a ton of bricks.

"Ughh..." Cindy grunted. Her hips pumped, her body doing it of its own volition at first, but later the young housewife gave in and worked herself on the vibrating probe. Fucking it in a manner she'd never even done for her own husband - more animal than timid shy newlywed. Working. Arching her slim flexible back. Going back onto her haunches. No amount of shame or humiliation could make her stop. "Yes..yes..yes..." she grunted.

Dr. Livingston watched the young woman give herself to the pleasure. Watched the probe moving in and out the girl's wet pink lips. Watched, enthralled and amazed as the girl came...no gushed in such volume and quantity. And something in her just clicked. Oh she had suspected from the moment she'd met her. She was attracted to this small slim pixie of a housewife. She knew that it was unnatural. She knew that it could bring her complications. And yet she was just as helpless as Cindy to stop the things that were happening.

That she was making happen.

"Mrs. Smith," Dr. Livingston said. "I regret I didn't bring a nurse with me today to assist me. I thought this would be a routing house call...I never suspected to find the poor dear in such dire circumstance. I hate to ask you this...but would you mind helping?"

"What must I do?" asked Mrs. Smith.

"Nothing much," Dr. Livingston said. "Just continue what I'm doing. I must give her a tonic now."

Mrs. Smith got up from her chair and moved next to the doctor. Watching what she was doing. It looked easy enough.

"Is that all?" she asked taking the handle of the probe. "Just pump it in and out?"

"That's it," Dr. Livingston said, amazed that the neighbor was consenting so easily. "You want to try to drain all the infection from her melancholia gland. See how much she's already released?"

"Disgusting...filthy...." Mrs. Smith said. "To think I thought she was a proper woman...respectable...considering who she married...but she's...she's like some sort of slug...."

And though the harsh words filled her with shame....Cindy was helpless to stop her body from reacting to the pleasure that held her so firmly- so tightly in its grip.

While the older woman pumped, Dr. Livingston moved around to the front of the hapless newlywed. She removed the bottle from her case. The bottle that contained her own secretions from the day before. She knew what she was doing was wrong. So very wrong. But she couldn't stop, even as she unstoppered the bottle filled the teaspoon up with the viscous creamy liquid.

"Open up dearie," Dr. Livingston said. "It's time for your medicine."

"God, she stinks," Mrs. Smith said. "She smells like a disgusting fish."

Cindy's cheeks burned in shame. God, she just wanted this horribly embarrassing experience to be over with. She opened her mouth and accepted the spoon. It wasn't what she the strong burning taste she expected. It was thicker. More inert. Musty.

Though her insides protested, she swallowed obediently.

"Please doctor," Cindy whispered, oblivious to the thick strand of the viscous liquid dangling from her lip. She felt herself losing control again. Oh God, not like this...

"Can you at least....I beg you....at least get rid of her..."

The poor newlywed had hoped to resist a bit more. She had figured she had a few more minutes at least. Yet, Mrs. Smith seemed to anticipate the young newlywed's weakness. She pressed the probe home. Working the makeshift vibrator against her in all the right places. Working her over with it.

"Oh God....oh God...." Cindy moaned in despair as she was overcome by pleasure once again.

"Oh here it comes doctor, here it comes again. I did it." Mrs. Smith said with satisfaction as the housewife gushed again and again. "I had thought it would be like juicing a fruit doctor...but it's more like....more like milking a cow. And quite easy once you have the hang of it."

Dr. Livingston fed the girl two more spoonfuls of her own nectar. As she did so, she realized what she most wanted was to give it to her directly from the source. She was determined to. Yet, she wondered if Mrs. Smith would consent to doing such a thing. She must proceed with caution.

"How much of the infection has she passed Mrs. Smith?" Dr. Livingston asked.

Mrs. Smith looked into the bowl and hazarded a guess. "An eighth of a cup or so doctor. She's made quite a mess of it. A cow would be less messy..."

"So much?" Dr. Smith asked with incredulity, yet she had already figured it to be a lot. "I'm afraid the girl is in real danger. I fear I didn't bring enough tonic. I see no other way to save the girl unless a terrible sacrifice is made."

"A sacrifice" Mrs. Smith asked. "Of what sort? I think I've done as much as any neighbor could be asked. My hands are ruined..and God she's disgusting..."

"I must give her a transfusion." Dr. Livingston reached beneath her dress and pulled down her underwear. "Straight from the source. There's no time to waste." Dr. Livingston removed a pillow from the sofa and reclined on it in front of the poor newlywed. Spreading her thick legs wide.

"This may be too much for you, Mrs. Smith," Dr. Livingston said to Mrs. Smith. "You may leave if you feel squeamish."

Mrs. Smith licked her lips hungrily in response. Her eyes eager to witness this final degradation of her snotty neighbor. "Oh no Doctor, I'll stay till till the very end. No matter the hardship."

But the young housewife had already endured quite enough.

"No!" she exclaimed. She spit on her expensive rug, God...what had she had in her mouth already? What had she swallowed? Was this the medicine? Was this the source? She felt as if she were going to gag.

"Hurry girl," Dr. Livingston urged, bringing her hairy pussy closer to the dismay of the young newlywed. "Hurry..."

"Go to hell!" Cindy spat.

Smack! Pain blossomed on Cindy's ivory bottom. A red hand print was left in its wake.

"That's no way to speak to your betters girl," Mrs. Smith warned. "Now apologize." And she delivered a blow. Then another. And another.

Cindy thought she'd be able to easily resist the pain. At least till her husband returned. But Lord, the woman had a heavy hand. She tried to resist. God how she tried. Then her chin began to tremble. Tears began to fall hopelessly down to the rug below.

"I'm...sorry...doctor..." she whined.

"Good girl," Mrs. Smith said, ceasing to spank the housewife's bottom, and returning to pumping her with the vibrating probe. "Now you get to work girl. It's time for your medicine."

Pleasure felt so much better than the pain. Cindy wished she were stronger. Yet, she couldn't help but doubt. What if she had melancholia? What if she were in real danger? If so, she'd be risking her life by resisting. She wormed her nose into the doctors curly hair. Found the slit beneath. Formed her mouth into a small 'O' and placed it to the opening and sucked.

"That's a good girl," Dr. Livingston said. "But not like that. It would be all day. First, the medicine must be coaxed. With your lips...kiss it there and there...gently..gently....oh that's nice....now use your tongue. Up and down my slit. Wonderful. Just like that. Make sure to go all the way up. See how it opens for you...like a pink flower."

Cindy looked down. She could see what Dr. Livingston meant, the woman's sex had opened like a pink flower. But Gods...to lick a woman there. Though it was part of her treatment...it still felt....

....degrading....

"Don't just stare at it all day. Keep going. That's a girl. Ahhhh...lick the petals of my flower. And like the top...just there. Oh so gently. Now look. Do you see how my pearl has swollen?"

Cindy nodded her head in response.

"Now you may suckle at the mouth of the flower, you've coaxed some medicine..."

Cindy formed her lips into an "O" and sucked at the mouth of Dr. Livinston's sex. The older woman gave a low pitched moan and spread her legs wider. "Splendid...now coax some more medicine."

And thus Cindy learned to coax a woman's juice. It was hard work and made her tongue ache. It also left her face a mess of sticky nectar. The largest drops and thick strands, Dr. Livingston collected on her fingertip and fed to the young newlywed. Until finally she came and inundated the poor girl with a copious amount of womanly nectar.

By the time Dr. Livingston collected herself and stood up on her wobbly legs, Mrs. Smith was already hitching up her skirt and taking off her panties.

"I milked her quite a bit more," Mrs. Smith said. "Nearly a quarter cup. She must be quite sick. I fear we must both do our fair share."

"I don't think it fair to ask you to put yourself out in such a fashion," Dr. Livingston said.

"Oh it's no bother," Mrs. Smith said as she gave the young housewife a hard smack on her rump. Just wait till she told her friends about this. About what she had done to stuck up little Cindy Johnson. Her heart was racing she was so excited.

"You aren't going to give me any trouble are you girl?" Mrs. Smith asked.

"No.." Cindy muttered. She had lost track of the number of times her body had seized up in pleasure. Each seizure had taken its toll. Robbing the formerly outspoken woman of her spunk. Of her will to fight. Nearly a quarter cup of it filled the bowl between her slim legs, leaving her as meek and docile as a little lamb.

The portly woman took her place where Dr. Livingston had lain. Taking a bit more time to get the extra sixty pounds she carried situated on the pillow at her back.

"After all girl," Mrs. Smith said. "I'm doing this for your benefit."

Dr. Livingston looked between the older woman's legs. At the mass of damp dark hair. Her lips already open and dripping. Her clit swollen and engorged. 'No, you are not doing this for her benefit alone,' she thought to herself and smiled knowingly.

Cindy soon learned this was a different sort of cunt than the doctor's. Where the doctors curly hair was silky and fine, Mrs. Smith's was thick and coarse. The musky odor of her neighbor was almost overwhelming compared to the hint of roses from the doctor. The cunt itself was swollen like a ripe peach. With the doctor, she had to coax and coddle it with her lips and tongue, with her neighbor she just held on for the ride. She did her best to catch her breath while the woman ground against her lips, her tongue, her nose and face. Till at last Mrs. Smith began to gasp and moan.

"Oh..oh...oh...oh!" Mrs. Smith's body tensed, her hips pumped, and at last she relaxed. Then she ordered the young housewife to lick up the secretions she missed.

Afterwards, Dr. Livingston asked Mrs. Smith, "The poor dear is going to need some looking after for the next few days. I'm afraid I can't pay you anything..."

"It's no problem," Mrs. Smith said, casting a hungry look down at the helpless and naked newlywed lying on the floor. "I'm a good Christian woman. I'll make sure she is well tended."

"Her infection should be drained daily," Dr. Livingston said. "I can't leave my device, but perhaps this will suffice." She handed the portly woman a medium sized phallic object. It was mean to be plugged in, but it would still work.

"No problem," Mrs. Smith casually inspected the well shaped metal device with casual disdain.

"And have her husband make another appointment for next week."

"I will."

"Perhaps we should see about untying her now." Dr. Livingston said.

"You go on ahead doctor," Mrs. Smith said. "I think have just a bit more medicine to give her."

Dr. Livingston watched Cindy's eyes widen in alarm. Help me, they begged.

"You are truly a saint Mrs. Smith," Dr. Livingston said. "If everyone had a neighbor like you, the world would be a much better place."

Dr. Livingston packed up her case while Mrs. Smith settled back on the cushions. This time she had stripped out of her dress. The doctor didn't find the portly woman's fleshy body and large pendulous breasts arousing at all. Ah, but when she looked at the little red-haired newlywed, with her ivory flesh and perfect body, she could feel her pulse quicken. She shook her head lest she be tempted to taste the girl again.

"Be sure to keep track of the volume of her bad humours you are able to extract," Dr. Livingston said.

She wondered if the woman heard her. Mrs. Smith seemed too busy enjoying the young housewife.

"Get that tongue in there. Right up inside me. Oh! That's it. Just like that. Now, wiggle it around. Mmmmm....."

Dr. Livingston looked back. Watched as Cindy Johnson's took pleasure the way she wanted. Watched as she made Cindy's fine head of hair disappear between those thick thighs. Made her lick. Made her suck. Oblivious to the young newlywed's look of disgust.