Commercial Break 3 - Experimental Treatment (Part 3)

Pixie had been so panicked about being exposed to the corridor like this that she had barely registered what Dr Shaw had said. Despite their professional titles, Dr Richards and Dr Shaw were married and both had been GPs at the village practise for as long as Pixie could remember. He had always seemed odd to her though, unlike the warm but scientific diligence of his wife, Dr Richards had always seemed to be a strange mix of dispassion and stern directness. He was in his early 60s but with a body that belied his age - his silver hair and lean frame honed from decades of marathon running.

The kneeling girl jumped with a muted peep of alarm when she heard the examination room door burst open again with another waft of air from the corridor.

“Okay, Pixianna I’m just bringing Dr Richards into the room now…” Dr Shaw announced simply.

“I... W-w-wait...!” The brunette gasped, whimpering as she scrambled frantically to cover her chest and remove her blindfold all at once.

In the maelstrom Pixie couldn’t bring her arms up in time and instead she jumped, yelping in immediate and panicked surprise when a cock impossibly, and without warning, thrust deep inside her pussy.

Pixie instinctively threw her hands down to her crotch instead, giving up on any attempt to protect her modesty as her tightly closed thighs clenched against nothing. She moaned, her lips hanging open and muffling a muted cry as her pussy tensed, her whole body shuddering on the cock. It withdrew and then thrust frantically back inside her, its speed increasing until it was feral and animalistic. It made it difficult for Pixie to remember to breathe - the immediacy and intensity of the fucking caused the girl to squeal, panicked, lifting her ass from her feet as stars raced through her blindness.

What?!

“Good morning Pixianna! It’s wonderful to see you, as always!” The man’s voice growled deeply, his aftershave thick and heavy, his presence and kind words almost mocking to the helpless girl's ears as his dick worked in overdrive inside her. Her racing heart skipped beats as she tried frantically not to succumb to moaning despairingly at what was happening to her.

Instead, she was mortified when her gasping moan morphed into a helpless girlish plea, “C-can I be of service?”

No!

Pixie mewled, feeling her mouth opening invitingly, her tongue lolling onto her chin even as she tried frantically to stop it. Between her legs the cock continued to piston in and out of her relentlessly.

“Can you tell us what you're feeling?” Dr Shaw’s voice was close again, on her one side, as she felt the heated presence of Dr Richards on her other.

“P-p-please can I s-s-service you with my m-aah! - mouth?” Pixie whimpered without wanting to, her **** pleading stuttering and gasping through the sensations.

“You’re doing very well Pixianna… Try again?” Dr Richards’ voice was close and his masculine scent made Pixie’s body tremble even as she moaned despondently.

“Please... I n-n-need t-to service you with my mouth – m-may I? P-please let me service you with my mouth!”

“One more try?” Dr Shaw said, and Pixie’s mind filled with an image of a wicked smile spreading across the woman’s face.

The helpless girl mewled, squealing helplessly as the cock in her pussy only seemed to get even faster, she felt like it was vibrating her entire body even as she remained totally still, “Please… I… I'd be so grateful if you'd let me…! Please may I service you with my mouth?”

There was an agonising beat of silence before Dr Richards’ spoke again, his voice dry and dismissive, “No thank you Pixianna”

The moment she heard the words Pixie gasped, control of her mouth returning to her as she desperately snapped her lips shut, shaking her head frantically as Dr Shaw prompted her again, “Can you tell us what you’re feeling now?”

“I... P-p-please... Nuhh... He's. I can feel him... In me...”

“Good,” Dr Shaw’s voice echoed inside Pixie’s frantic mind in a way that made it sound like it was almost dripping with venom.

'Good' ?!

“In you where?”

“M-m-my Pu...! Vagina...! His penis... you’re fuck... Gawd... It's so fast. Please! St-o-op!” The girl croaked, panting and unable to stop herself from moving in time with the rapid thrusts. She gripped the edge of the bed with a **** need for support, her body growing super-heated as she felt the looming presence of the married couple lauding either side of her, knowing the pair were studying her every move, watching her like she was a performing toy.

“S-stop t-t-think… thinking… stop looking at m-m-mee...” Pixie pleaded almost incoherently.

A sharp tug at her hair made Pixie moan, feeling her hair laying completely undisturbed against her shoulders and also bundled into a ponytail, lifted by an unseen hand and held tight to tug her head up and back. She felt a feminine hand at her throat, pressing lightly, and then the breathing warmth of Dr Shaw’s lips returning to her own even as her mouth hung slack and empty.

Pixie’s pussy sent the same confused mixed-up sensations to her mind, clenching down on the dick and nothing at the same time. Her body shuddered, her hips beginning to rock in need as she fell back and pressed against nothing and the rapidly thrusting cock simultaneously. Pixie started to bounce in place, and with every impact she panted, squealing, the speed only seeming to get impossibly faster as she felt a pair of strong male hands holding her hips.

“Do you feel any different now?” Dr Richard’s voice was edged with a dispassionate snideness that made Pixie feel even weaker, dragged down into the throws of unwanted sexual **** by both doctor’s imaginations.

“I… K-k-kissing…! I feel…! P-please… stop!”

She moaned, bouncing, helplessly ashamed and aware of her topless state, her breasts threatening to pop free of her bra any moment and yet she couldn’t bring herself to let go of the bed or resist the aching need to move her hips.

“You’re doing so well Pixianna…” Dr Shaw cooed encouragement, “We’re almost done…”

It was disorientating, and Pixie whimpered, shaking her head in frantic desperation, panting through the unwanted pleasure assaulting her senses. All she could concentrate on was the constant pounding thrust of the cock inside her and the feverish dominant feminine tongue in her throat. The unnerving detachment of the couple’s controlling tone only heightened Pixie’s swirling sexual confusion.

“Nngh!”

“And now?”

Pixie couldn’t fight it, she moaned, gasping down humiliating sexual squeals as she lost herself in the sensation. Her back arched more, thrusting out her breasts and dropping her head as her thighs drifted apart. She tumbled through the darkness under the blindfold, bouncing along with the thrusts, her body pink and aching, the unwanted arousal and need flooding her as the stars rushing across her vision grew more and more frequent.

I’m gonna…

“I…” Pixie’s voice cracked, her shuddering need becoming a torrent of sparks erupting across her body, threatening to push her over the edge any second as she frantically tried to speak through the demanding kiss… “I’m gonna - Oh god…! Please stop! Mmm ah! Please!”

“It's ok if you orgasm Pixianna, it's nothing we haven't seen before...”

Oh god!

Pixie whimpered, shaking her head frantically.

“Okay… if you want to stop...” Dr Shaw conceded, “Dr Richards is turning around now…”

A moment later Pixie gasped pitifully, feeling the cock abruptly withdraw, leaving her suddenly empty and teetering on the edge of an orgasm she both desperately did and didn’t want. Her pussy, feeling simultaneously untouched but also aching and needy, throbbed for any final spark of stimulation to send her into orbit. She moaned into the unseen mouth still kissing her, only to **** back a shamed sob as she heard her hyper-sexual cries echoing uninhibited through the room instead.

“You did so well...”

I didn’t have a choice!

Pixie’s heartbeat roared with embarrassment in her ears as she tried to calm her wild panting, unable to stop herself from tensing and untensing her thighs, feeling the sticky wetness in her panties, and sending delicate little tingles of unrealised pleasure sparking through her core.

“Ok Pixianna I'm going to remove the blindfold...”

“I... w-w-wait…” Pixie baulked, another pitiful gasp escaping her lips even as she found herself too weak to physically stop them. She knew both of the clinicians had been watching her the entire time but that didn’t make the idea of looking them in the eyes now, panting and ****, any easier.

The blindfold was unceremoniously lifted from her head, leaving the kneeling girl trembling and blinking in the light. Pixie glanced between the pair of doctors in nervous humiliation, only to whimper at the sight of Dr Richard’s turned back.

“Don’t worry, I’m not looking Pixianna”

“Can you tell me what you're feeling now?” Dr Shaw asked with scientific scrutiny, tucking the blindfold into her pocket.

“Mm... I... Y-y-your mouth... On my neck...” Pixie gasped weakly, eyes downcast.

“I promise that's not intentional.” Dr Shaw nodded along with a warm smile, only for Pixie to feel the teasing fingers return to her nipples again, twisting them playfully, “But, there's nothing you need to say to Dr Richards?”

The kneeling girl glanced at the man’s back, her cheeks burning brighter pink with muted confusion, Like what? – 'Thank you for fucking me?'

“N-n-no...” Pixie recoiled, frustration caught in her parched throat. She felt Dr Shaw’s delicate phantom kissing and cooing at her neck shift up the side of her cheek until her lips and teeth were nipping heatedly at her ear.

“You don't feel any compulsion to offer him oral sex?” Dr Shaw prompted, earning a timid gasp from Pixie as even in her dishevelled state her cheeks somehow still found a way to grow even hotter.

“No!”

“That’s good!” Dr Shaw smiled, stepping back, though her phantom fingers never left Pixie’s chest, “And if Dr Richards’ turns around…?”

Pixie’s eyes grew wide in panic, gasping helplessly as the older man turned on the spot, his face locked in a steely smirk of knowing judgement. The moment his gaze met hers, Pixie whimpered, helpless, the sense of his phantom cock slipped back into her pussy again, its relentless speed instantly resumed.

Oh god!

“Nnnn-nnngh! No!” Pixie squealed, her mouth hanging open in a mortified silent moan, cheeks bright pink and back arching, lifting herself again as she thrust her chest towards him without wanting to.

“Very good!” Dr Shaw’s praise was contrasted by a disapproving ghostly slap to Pixie’s cheek, eking a pitiful whine from the helpless girl’s throat, “Okay - thank you Dr Richards.”

“My pleasure as always,” His eyes remained locked firmly to Pixie’s as he started making his way towards the door. Pixie cursed, recognising the same knowing look on his face that Jack had given her in the studio, “See you next month Pixianna…”

The moment he turned to leave Pixie took a shuddering gasp of air in relief, dropping back to her heels, able to breathe again the moment the phantom cock disappeared. She closed her eyes, shame plastered across her reddened cheeks as she tried to maintain her composure.

The door to the examination room clicked closed and Pixie mewled, covering her face with her hands. Her heart continued its rapid thrumming in her chest as she struggled to control her breathing. Dr Shaw’s ghostly mouth and fingers slowly withdrew from her too and it wasn’t until she heard the woman shuffling through her notes again that Pixie dared open her eyes.

“Feel free to masturbate to completion if you need...”

Pixie froze, daring to not move from the shame.

Noticing her inaction Dr Shaw glanced back, “No? Ok... Tissues are in the usual place… and you can put your top back on now, thank you Pixianna”

Pixie bashfully jumped at the opportunity, pulling her sweater back over herself protectively, hugging the fabric to her hot chest as she continued to breathe in ragged gasps of embarrassed sexual heat.

“Okay - so, I don't think your symptoms have gotten any worse since Greece... I think perhaps the stress of that trip has had a negative effect on the manifestation of these projected tactile hallucinations, but I’d like to keep monitoring them.”

The woman’s corrupted words flowed into Pixie’s mind, causing her to shake her head in frustrated despair, “B-but none of this is real!”

Dr Shaw swung around again, giving her a firm stare, “Pixie… we’ve been over this several times, I know you're in denial but it's very important that you accept the reality of your condition - Do you think it would help if you said the words out loud?”

Pixie frowned, hugging herself tighter, “W-what words?”

“I have Succubus Syndrome” Dr Shaw stated plainly.

“I don't! It's... Not...”

“Pixianna...”

“I...”

“Pixianna…” The woman’s voice softened even as Pixie felt the warning exasperation in her gaze.

“I have...” Pixie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to quell her own frustrated shame as she cursed herself for even trying to say these stupid words, “…Succubus Syndrome”

“Good,” Dr Shaw coaxed, “One more time? It's nothing to be embarrassed about...”

Pixie pursed her lips resentfully, “I have Succubus Syndrome”

“Very good. Now, you can pop your shoes and coat back on… I'm going to write you a prescription for some anti-anxiety medication and I want you to try working on resisting the oral compulsion - perhaps practice with your boyfriend?”

Pixie flinched, “I... I'm single right now...”

“A close relative then?”

The heat in Pixie’s body returned tenfold as she tried very very hard not to think about that, “I...”

“I know it's embarrassing but I promise it will get easier. You'll get used to it...”

I don’t want to get used to it!

Pixie bit her tongue, feeling another quick nibbling lick of Dr Shaw’s phantasmal tongue at her earlobe. She quickly gathered her gilet and stepped back into her shoes, her legs were weak and she trembled in place, needing to lean against the bed for a few seconds to keep herself upright after the intensity of what she’d just experienced.

“I'd also like you to start keeping a diary,” Dr Shaw continued conversationally, her pen working rapidly across a new page in the folder, “do you think that's something you could do? Make a note of each episode and when they occur - try to include as much detail as you can and we can review it next time?”

Pixie couldn’t bring herself to say anything and just nodded, mortified at the idea of keeping a diary of every time she felt the ghostly molestations, “Mmhmm…”

“I know you feel awkward about these changes, but you need to accept that Succubus Syndrome makes you hyper-sexual...” Dr Shaw explained, her professional demeanor corrupted by the perverse words, “, and that's ok. If you need to, take regular breaks to masturbate and try to dress conservatively to minimise your episodes. Use protection. I'm going to write another letter for you to take to your employer –”

“Th-thankyou!” Pixie yelped, just **** to stop the doctor talking.

Dr Shaw smiled politely as she looked up at Pixie again and held out the prescription paper, “Great - as always, if anything changes… if you feel a new sensation or compulsion… Make an appointment... Otherwise we'll see you again in a month.”

Reluctantly Pixie took the note and stuffed it into the front pocket of her gilet. She shrugged her shoulders high, letting the fur collar of the coat encompass her chin, **** to just disappear into it.

“Okay um ... that’s it?” Pixie tensed, anticipating the sudden rush and return to the studio now that this humiliating 'scene' was over, but nothing happened.

“Thanks Pixianna,” Dr Shaw nodded towards the door, “see you soon.”

“I uh, um, ok...Bye...”

Pixie stepped out of the examination room with her eyes closed, her every nerve shredded with expectation that any second she’d feel the heat of the studio lights, hear the the applause and mocking cheers, see the humiliating garish pink set…

… The door closed behind her.

Pixie opened her eyes, confused, glancing awkwardly up and down the corridor of the clinic...

The monotony and normalcy of the world around her was punctuated with a cough from the reception area, and the sound of a phone ringing somewhere in the building. She was alone, still fumbling with the zip on her gilet as she caught the muffled murmuring of conversation through a wall.

Pixie took an anxious step, and then another, confusion and horror dawning on her as she realised she wasn’t being taken back... and she wasn’t certain if that was a blessing or a curse...

“I… I’m… done…” She whimpered softly to the air, unsure if it was with relief or pleading as she felt the unknown gnawing at her - How long have I got?