Linda, the gothic, highly-experienced doctor.

No wonder she had killer legs.

The lakefront stretched on forever, a line of pure white sand. Its distant horizon was clean blue water as far as Sasha’s highly-attuned feline eyes could see. There wasn’t any reason not to just call it ‘the ocean’; by map, this inland sea was one of the largest on the planet.

Settlements on the opposite bank, including larger human cities and dark elf enclaves, traded by boat with Lilisburgh. Both sides, having worked out fishing rights in the time before antiquity, sent their boats out each day to gather a sensible portion of sheltered crayfish and hearty salmon.

As well as more exotic varieties of fish said to be enchanted or cursed.

Little collections of sails flapped in the breeze, which unlike the ocean, didn’t carry forth the overwhelming aroma of salt. The same freshwater out there flowed first through the irrigated channels of the Captain’s farmstead, and would soon be nurturing a bumper crop of crops.

The doctor hadn’t been kidding about the walk, but physical activity would always come easier to this boy than thinking.

At the end of his relaxing lakeside stroll, he found a cottage perched atop a gentle slope. The dirt road was enough to support an automobile, as proven by the attached garage. A novel sight, but one necessary for such detached country living. People in town, or proximate to it like Sasha and the Captain, could get away without one of the gas-guzzling steel deathtraps.

The outlying farmers, fishermen, and recluses clearly couldn’t.

The other vehicle prominently displayed in its own hangar, with far more consideration, was just as essential for those types. Out near the water at the foot of the hill was a little boat in a little open boathouse. As if to broadcast ownership before the registration numbers painted in water-resistant hues came into view, the craft was a jet black dagger bobbing deceptively peaceful from gentle mediterranean currents.

Lacking any conception of the right time to come over and breed, except that this was after lunch, and thus past the extremely light hours that the Black **** kept at the village’s only medical facility, Sasha was glad to see both vehicles in place.

The house itself had once been painted white, but time and weather and neglect all took a bite. It wasn’t a ruin in any sense; it just needed painting, much like the Captain’s own homely home. Otherwise, it was a solid, two-story dwelling with many windows looking out towards the water, enjoying the commanding view.

An excellent spot for a local command post or watchtower.

The tiled roof came to a point slanted towards the sea, and a similarly-slanted smokestack billowed out concerning-colored smoke. From what villagers said, it did so at all hours, day or night, and odd lights were often seen in the house. More than one ghost story was spawned by kids coming out here, and getting spooked off.

Quite deliberately, as the doctor attempted to preserve her isolated privacy.

Sasha climbed the steepening grade of the footpath, and wound up at her porch, reaching up with gloved automail hand to gently depress the doorbell.

Ding dong, bing bong.

Ding dong, bing bong.

Ding dong, bing-

A second-floor window flew open.

“I know it’s you out there, Sokolov! Give me a moment!”

Sasha did as requested, waiting one moment for Doctor Pelletier’s arrival. When that moment passed, and she hadn’t yet reached the door by dint of basic physics, he pressed again.

“I’m sorry, I forgot they scoop out your brains when you join the army! Stop ringing, or you’ll see what happens when you piss off the only doctor in fifty miles!”

Sasha stopped.

He then waited patiently, admiring the porch and front door, which were wood, but coated in more fresh-looking paint. It may have not just been aesthetics, either; much like the red bottom of boats, it could help the building stand up better against weathering and wear. He wasn’t much for architecture or the description thereof, but this place had the kind of homely charm he didn’t expect from, well.

Such an intense and modern lady.

Who threw open the door without warning, revealing Linda Pelletier in the flesh.

Quite a lot of flesh, and scarce little to cover it all up.

Beneath her labcoat, the only thing concealing her shapely, finely-aged mature curves were a set of lacy black lingerie and a garter belt attached to straining thigh-highs.

And her usual choker wrapped securely around a thin, delicate neck.

Her skin was so deathly pale, she looked like a ghost below the neck. Clearly, she didn’t get much exposure like this; her face had color, though. The healthy red glow of a blush, which along with prominent, hard nipples poking through that thin bra, betrayed her excitement.

She was short of breath, heaving chest rising and falling before Sasha’s hungry eyes. The contrast between professional veneer, and the eroticism barely concealed, was more powerful than if she’d just come out stark naked.

She might as well have been below, for the way that outfit kept her ‘modesty’. Cutouts in the lacy bra ran down in vertical strips like somebody had taken a knife to the thing, and only her nipples were truly covered. She didn’t have the same enormous, absurd heaving bust of the Mayor or Silvia, merely ones fit to overflow the hand. Which, on Autumn, passed for a ‘modest size’.

This doctor with icy hair and demeanor made what she had really work. Her back curved and arched, slinking even while standing still. There was still plenty to take hold of, above and below, and a thin waist just called out to be grabbed and held securely.

Her legs went on forever, just as he recalled. Long, strong, visibly toned, and framed and presented impeccably by that fancy underwear. Along with the kind of wide hips she’d be needing to take part in this program, making it clear, along with her flat stomach, that she was ready to have kids, didn’t have any yet… and that she needed that to change.

“Good afternoon, doctor-”

Sasha’s standard-issue greeting was interrupted as the Black **** produced a bottle of assorted colors of pills, tilted back, and poured them into her open mouth past black lipstick-painted lips. Then, she brought him in, on a ****-fueled kiss.

That **** more than a few of the strange tablets right down his throat!

Highly-honed instincts kicked in, and his adrenaline spiked.

Before her eyes were open, he had to her pinned to the wall of her own house’s entranceway with overwhelming speed and power. She couldn’t squirm either arm out of his grip, as they were held overhead by a single hand. She was fixed by his burning red gaze, and pinned by sheer male strength that was quickly turning into arousal.

“What did you-”

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Sasha. If I say ‘stop’, or ‘no’, or anything like that, do not listen. I will never forgive you if you actually stop. Oh, and I hope you drank a lot of water. I should have put that in my letter.”