The Doctor's Treatment

He heard her moan louder than before now that his hot mouth smothered her sensitive vagina, his flexible tongue lapping at her free-flowing juices. He was really enjoying himself – letting out the frustration of avoiding intimate contact with the beautiful girl, the joy of making such an exquisite creature squirm and groan. And, after so many days of the complete nightmare he’d been through, the tangy flavour of this sweet girl was truly setting his senses alight.

Writhing and moaning as he lapped at her spice, he moved on from gently nibbling and sucking on her pussy lips and penetrating her vagina with his dextrous tongue. Now he set gently to against her swollen clitoris, teasing her little button with the tip of his tongue. Half his face seemed covered in her juices by now, while perspiration mottled his brow from the sheer heat and intensity of being between her thighs.

Soon, her whole body began to shiver and quake as his rhythm on her clit and occasional delving into her pussy became almost too much for her to handle. Her hands crawled over his head, and she pressed her body down on him, crushing her pussy against his mouth as the explosive orgasm welled up inside her. At last, she yelled her sweet last, high-pitched and raw in her satisfaction and before she finally released him from the pressure, allowing him to gently focus on her vagina, lapping up her final flood as she came in his mouth.

Some moments later, when she had caught her breath and given him a drink of water, she lay with him, her satisfied body snuggled up to him, an arm and a leg draped over him. And the words just slipped out, “I love you.”

She thought he’d be angry at her after that, she was a little horrified she’d said it. Perhaps he realised that she was still technically his patient, and what had just taken place was wrong. It hadn’t felt wrong. It had felt so very right.

But then he kissed her mouth tenderly. “I love you too, Hayley,” he said, and she had never been happier.

That night, she never slept better, and in the morning he told her it was the last day of his incarceration. She’d never been so excited. She held back from her usual flirtation that day, didn’t even try to explore her sexuality further with him – she wanted to wait until he was free, free to hold her in his arms. She wanted him to be completely unrestricted when he finally slid that glorious cock inside her.

She was tingling with sexual energy all day as she tidied the entire cabin – looking in every possible place for any trace of narcotics he might have hidden. Now that he was clean, she wanted to keep him that way. It had been far too much of a struggle to go through again, though for him she’d go through anything now.

At his behest, she’d hidden the car keys in the woods somewhere, so that they’d have a few weeks where he couldn’t even drive off to get more drugs if he wanted to. Just to make sure. They had provisions for a few weeks. They’ll be fine.

Then later, the very last place she had left to check was the desk in his study. It was his personal desk, so she felt a little guilty at looking through the drawers – but she had to be sure there were no drugs in there.

Looking through the various papers in there, she found a load of stuff about him: correspondence, reports, even the odd newspaper cutting. It revealed his status as a world expert on mental breakdowns, the causes, the treatment. A “genius”, one newspaper said, who had “come from the medical equivalent of nowhere to become a world authority in his field in just five years”. He was one impressive guy.

What would the newspapers say if they found out he’d slept with a patient? Hayley’s heart burned: there was, surely, no way the two of them could stay together. Not if he was going to go back out working as a doctor again. What if she lost him?

She sniffed up a tear and tried not to think about it. Christopher had told her that he loved her. That was all that was important right now.

No drugs anywhere – that was a good thing. Since she had never confronted him about it, he had probably felt safe stashing it all in that drawer under the bed – she felt pleased that she had taken no action before he had asked it of her.

One last drawer to check: the bottom drawer. Opening it, she felt a sudden sense of dread. Always the last place you look.

But there wasn’t any drugs there. There was something far more shocking.

“What the hell is this?” she almost screamed as she stormed back into his bedroom, a stack of photographs clutched in her hands

“Huh?” It was early evening now, a time when he usually woke from an afternoon nap. He was a little groggy, his eyes looking all around himself uncertainly, wondering for a moment where he was and what was going on.

“I found these photographs. What the hell are they?” she said, angry as she stood next to the bed, dropping photographs of smiling people onto him.

Family shots, mostly, Christopher growing up, graduating here there and everywhere, Doctor Mullen if you please. Then there were shots that he had to admit, she might find strange. Pictures of herself, smiling as happy as can be, a lot more colour in her skin, the spark of youthful innocence in her eyes. And often pictured next to a slightly less grey-haired Dr Mullen.

“And this one,” she said, holding up a large expensive-looking professional effort. Hayley pictured in a flowing white wedding dress, Christopher standing next to her in a smart morning suit, the happy couple smiling adoringly at each other.

“What the hell is this?” she said. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“No,” he said quietly, slightly mournfully. “It’s true. I was going to tell you – of course I was going to tell you. But I didn’t know if you were ready or not yet.”

“Tell me what?”

“You’re my wife.”

She sat by the edge of the pier, her toes dipping in the cold water, her eyes red from rubbing at the tears. But she wasn’t crying now. She was just thinking. She was confused. She didn’t know anything about her past – why should she be surprised now that it was becoming clear?

She felt so conflicted: she loved him, oh how she loved him, and part of her felt such unbelievable rapture to find out that he was her husband. But where had he been for the last – what had it been, four years? Five years? She didn’t know how long she’d been locked up in that prison Almeda, but it had been long enough. Why had he left her there?

If he was her husband, why had he left her to rot in there? Then came to retrieve her to be his nurse when he got into trouble.

And what had happened to put her in Almeda in the first place? What had driven her to have such a complete mental breakdown? What if she found out again, and it put her back into that horrible cloudy-minded state she’d been in for so many months?

They’d take her away from him for sure.

Hayley sat there for a long while, watching as the sun went down, thinking, pondering, seeking a decision. Was it Christopher’s fault? Was she strong enough to hear the truth? Did he still love her? What was the dark secret in their past that he’d kept from her all this time?

Dr Christopher Mullen lay awake, and he too was thinking. He felt weak, though a little better now, but still weak. He knew she’d react badly to hearing the truth. She was confused now, it was made more difficult because he’d given in to the urges and consented to some brief intimacy with her. Told her that he loved her.

Just what he wanted to avoid.

But what could he have done? He did love her, and he had felt pain to hide it from her. Now he had driven her away.

Where had she gone? Had she left him? Left him here to rot? It wasn’t like she could get anywhere from here, unless she braved the car. Could she remember how to drive?

Perhaps he should have told her the truth the day they had got here, laid it all on the table. But then how would she have felt, this doctor she hardly knew telling her they were married. How awkward would she have felt, and what if she didn’t believe him?

He lay there for a long, long while. Thinking, soul-searching, wondering if he had lost her for good now, screwed it up right and proper. If she came back and asked him, would he tell her everything? Yes, he would tell her everything. He would get her to unlock his handcuffs first, but he would tell her. He couldn’t not. Not now. But get her to unlock him first, in case she snapped again.

If she came back.

He drifted off again, a light sleep full of dreams. Bad dreams. Dreams of the past, memories of problems gone by, each one enough to spear him in the heart.

Then, finally, the door opened again and there she was. So beautiful, even when upset. His heart was wrenched by her unhappiness, though, the red around her eyes, the darkness in her expression. He would do anything to bring back that smiling girl who had danced under the sun those warm days before he had come off the juice.

“I want to know,” she said simply. “I want to know everything.”

He nodded silently for a moment.

“Let me out of these handcuffs,” he said. “Please. And I’ll tell you.”

She paused, and he wondered if she would do as he asked.

Then she found the key on the dresser opposite the bed, and leaned over him to carry out his request. The smell of her clean hair as she stooped over him. Oh, his pretty angel, what troubles she had been through.

“There,” she said. “Now I suppose it’s all up to you.”

He sat up, stretching muscles that had been underused for so long, swinging his legs down off the mattress onto the floor.

“Come here, my Hayley,” he said gently, pleading with her. “Please sit with me. I don’t know how to make this any easier for you.”

She looked at him for a moment, almost hatred in her eyes, fearing the worst. It caused him real pain, seeing her that way. But then, after another pause, she did as she was asked. She sat down with him, allowed him to take her head in his hands and kiss her mouth briefly.

“We were married in a beautiful church in West Virginia,” he said. “You made me the happiest man on Earth.”

“What happened to us?” she asked, wanting to cut to the chase. Wanting the bad news first. “What happened to me?”

He took a deep breath. She could see that it was difficult for him, and in that respect she felt for him, too. But she needed to know. He spoke. “We weren’t married too long before you were pregnant,” he said.

Pregnant? This was all startling to her.

“It was all going to be so perfect: I had just finished my first-year residency at Morgan, you were just starting out as a young nurse, we were looking round houses – it was going to be so wonderful.”

“And then…” she prompted.

“And then our baby was born blue,” he said starkly. There was no way he could cushion her from the fact. There it was.

A tear trickled from her cheek. “Go on,” she said, remaining strong. He was so proud of her.

Another deep breath. It wasn’t easy. He said, “Our lives crashed all around us. When you heard our baby was dead, it was like someone switched a light out in your brain. You were taken away from me – what could I do? What did I know about psychology? I was an ER resident – give me an arm, I could sink a drip into it. But anything more complicated than that, and it was a turf to Psych.”

The tear was trickling down his cheek now, and it was Hayley that felt pity for Christopher. Her anger against him was slipping away now. Now that she knew the truth. The pain of losing a child was stronger in him than her now: for her, it was almost as though it had happened to another woman. Her mind had shut down to protect itself – one of the funny things about human biology. But Christopher had been through it all.

She pulled him close, hugged him.

“They took you away from me,” he said, mopping his tears, willing himself to go on with the story, to set it all out in the open. “I lost my baby and the love of my life in one awful day. They diagnosed various disorders and had you committed. And there I was, some low-life resident.”

“Was that why…”

“The drugs?” he nodded. “First, morphine, codeine, whatever I could get my hands on – not difficult in that hospital. Later, I moved on to heroin to dull the pain. It never did. They kept you from me, gave you all these pills, turned you into a zombie.”

“You saw me?”

“Of course I did. I was there as often as they’d let me. But there was no way I could get you out of there. Not unless I was some kind of…”

“…World authority on mental breakdowns,” she finished for him, the information on the newspaper cuttings she had also found in his desk drawer coming back to her now. “You changed fields, didn’t you?”

“I had to,” he said quietly.

“You became an expert in psychology – world famous Dr Mullen.” Her voice was filled with awe, so amazed at the lengths he had gone to free her from Almeda. Which all evidence now pointed to success in that particular respect.

“I had to change my name, too – had some help from a friendly official whose life I once saved – just so the folks in Almeda wouldn’t know who I was.”

She kissed him, long and tenderly. Though she pained at hearing what had happened to her, the love that she now felt for this man beside her transcended everything.

“I was still worried they’d recognise me – even with the new name and reputation. But then you escaped anyway,” he smiled and kissed her again. “My clever girl. You gave those fascists the slip, and I could just walk into that hospital and take you out, without even going near Almeda.”

“I guess it was a sign I was getting better,” she said. “After all that time, they trusted me to take my pills – but then I hid them under my tongue and spat them out when they weren’t looking.”

“Genius,” he said, kissing her again, so sweet, breathing in her clean scent.

“So where are we now?” she asked him. “Husband and wife, huh?”

“That’s right,” he said. “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you,” she kissed him. “But first we need to get you into the shower.”

It was so great to be out of the handcuffs – in a way he understood how Hayley had felt when he had sprung her from her confinement. It was great to get off that damn bed, to stretch his legs, his muscles, and great to step into the shower and let the hot water course over his body.

“Hey, move over, big boy.”

It was Hayley, his exquisite Hayley, stepping into the shower beside him without a thread on. Such a stunning creature, his elfin queen. She reached up to kiss him as her hands trailed over his body, his own finding her curves, holding her sweet breasts for the first time in too long.

“I can’t believe I’ve got such a hot husband,” she smiled as her fingers closed around his hardening penis.

“I’m all yours,” he said, “to do with whatever you like.”

“Mmm…” she purred as he coaxed her breasts, gently crushing her stiff pink nipples in his fingers and thumbs. “How long have I got?” she asked.

“How long do you need?” he asked her.

“Hmm…” she said, “I think this long is just what I need.” And she sank onto his cock, filling her tight pussy with his hardness. It was the most perfect feeling either had ever experienced, the most wonderful collision of male and female.

Later, they moved to the bedroom, the kitchen, the living room, and the great out doors exploring each other, caressing each other, kissing each other until they had to stop for breath. He was free now, free to hold her, to run his fingers through her silky hair, to tear off her clothes, to ravish her completely. She could dress up for him – wearing her clothes, who no-one had chosen but her, she now knew – putting on special lacy items to give him added thrill.

Then he could, of course, tear them off her again. They went swimming together in the lake, they went walking in the hills, they came home to a burning log fire where Christopher could cook for her and she would be the dessert. Perhaps even with whipped cream on top.

She was the most beautiful girl in the world for him, and he was the most handsome man she knew. She could wake up and take his soon-hardening cock into her mouth in the morning if she wanted. And he could sidle up to her as she sat by the fire in the evening, to nestle his head between her thighs and breathe in the enticing aroma of her arousal before nudging aside her panties to taste her nectar until she came profusely in his mouth.

She could present him with her shapely rear in the shower or straddle him as he sat in his big armchair in the study. And he could thrust inside her hot, tight vagina, filling her completely and stroking her every sensitive part until he came powerfully inside her.

With the money he had squirreled away as a world-famous shrink, they had the rest of their lives to do whatever they wanted, and all they wanted was to be in each other’s loving company. And it wasn’t long before they had the family they had both always wanted.