No, but at least she gets help

Vanessa collapsed forward onto her hands and knees, gasping for air. Her entire body was flushed pink with shame and arousal. Her breasts felt impossibly sensitive to the morning breeze. Her clit throbbed with every heartbeat. She felt utterly violated...by herself. Worse, she had just orgasmed in broad daylight, in the open, completely naked. What if someone had seen? What if someone had heard? She whimpered softly, trembling as she slowly climbed to her feet. She had to get out of here. She had to get help. She had to find clothes... anything to cover herself... before she lost control again.

The trail leading away from the lake was narrow and winding, forcing her to brush against ferns and low-hanging branches. Each accidental contact sent electric shocks of pleasure through her exposed skin. Her nipples hardened painfully against the rough texture of a fern frond. She gasped, stumbling sideways, her hand instinctively flying to her breast to soothe the sharp sting... only to moan louder as her own fingers sent fresh waves of arousal crashing through her. She leaned heavily against a moss-covered tree trunk, biting her lip until it bled to stifle another cry. The moss felt cool and soft against her overheated skin, a small mercy amidst the torment. She **** herself to move, each step a battle against the relentless pull of the Lily's effect.

The path widened into a gravel service road, and Vanessa froze. The distant rumble of an engine grew louder.

A faded green pickup truck rounded the bend, kicking up dust. Behind the wheel sat an elderly man in a park ranger’s hat, his eyes widening as they landed on her. Vanessa’s breath hitched. Every instinct screamed to run, but her feet stayed rooted. Shame burned hotter than the Lily’s influence as his gaze traveled over her nakedness, lingering on her flushed skin and trembling thighs. She hugged herself, but her traitorous fingers dug into her own flesh, drawing a soft moan she couldn’t suppress.

The truck rolled to a stop beside her. The ranger didn’t get out. He leaned across the passenger seat, rolling down the window. His expression wasn’t leering or mocking, but held a weary, almost paternal resignation. "Morning," he said, his voice gravelly but calm. He didn’t avert his eyes entirely, but kept them fixed firmly on her face. "Let me guess," he sighed, a hint of dry humor in his tone, "you found the Eros Lily grove?"

"Yes, I did", Vanessa managed, still fighting with the sensation caused by her hands desperately trying to cover up her nipples.

The ranger nodded slowly. "Thought so. Saw the sign?" At her jerky nod, he sighed again. "Damn things spread faster than gossip. Should've roped off that whole section last week." He paused, taking in her trembling form. "You're not the first this month. Won't be the last either." His tone held no judgment, only tired practicality. "Get in the back. Got an emergency tarp."

As Vanessa climbed onto the back seat and wrapped herself in the tarp, he continued asking more questions. "Why are you running around naked? And how did you touch the lilies?"

Vanessa explained her situation: the creepy deliveryman, her escape to the woods, and her campsite being stripped bare. She left out the embarrassing details about her dreams and public orgasm. The ranger listened quietly, occasionally nodding.

"That's interesting," he finally said, shifting the truck into gear. "Usually people get 'tickly' hands and arms if you know what I mean." He gestured vaguely toward her tarp-covered lap. "First time I've heard anyone sleep buck naked in the grove." His weathered face grew serious. "That might be more serious."

Vanessa clutched the tarp tighter as the truck bounced along the gravel. "What do you mean?" Her voice trembled, partly from cold, mostly from dread.

"Sleeping skin-to-pollen?" The ranger glanced at her through the rear view mirror. "That's deep saturation. Five months might be optimistic." He turned onto a paved road, the sudden smoothness jarring. "We'll get you to the clinic. They'll give you suppressants. Won't stop the sensitivity, but they'll dull the... impulses."

Vanessa sagged with partial relief but also worried about the less than optimistic outlook, the coarse tarp scratching her hypersensitive skin. She gasped as the friction sent sparks dancing up her spine. "Th-thank you," she stammered, squeezing her thighs together. The pressure was exquisite ****. She pondered what "sensitivity without impulses" might entail.

The ranger drove in silence for a few minutes before speaking again. "Name's Hank," he offered gruffly. "And you?" Vanessa introduced herself softly, her voice catching as the truck hit a pothole, jostling her against the seat. The rough upholstery grazed her shoulder blade, and she whimpered, biting her lip hard. Hank glanced back, his expression softening slightly. "Hang tight. Clinic's just up ahead."