Chapter 2

“Ms Lyanna stormborn?” The medical receptionist called out.

“Here!” I said standing up.

“Dr Hart will see you now.”

I followed her into the doctor’s office. An elegant elderly woman that appeared to be in her late sixties.

I was nervous.

This was going to get awkward for me real fast real soon.

She gestured toward the chair opposite hers, “please.”

I sank into it and clutched my purse tightly for emotional support.

“So…,” the doctor stared down at a paper on her desk. “Lyanna Stormborn. What brings you in today?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair before blurting out, “I need something to suppress my libido.”

The doctor blinked. “Your libido?”

I felt heat creep up my cheeks. “It’s not normal. It’s starting to affect my work, my sleep, everything. Sitting here is too difficult for me as is.” I confessed shyly, while avoiding eye contact.

I heard Dr Hart set down her pen and pause for a minute, prompting me to look up.

“When did it start?” She asked.

“The day before. I was in class teaching my first graders and then I’d experienced a severe dizzy spell, followed by an excruciating headache and then I’d passed out for approximately an hour. On my way home like 30 minutes later, I’d started to feel really…uh… high…” I trailed off.

The doctor nods.

“And this is first time it has happened?” She asked concerned.

I nod in affirmation.

“Do you have any history with brain related injuries. History with a concussion perhaps?”

I shook my head no.

Dr Hart spoke into the intercom, “Carol could you please come into my office. Thank you.”

She started scribbling something down on her note pad.

When Carol— a nurse—arrived, Dr Hart turned to me and explained, “before we discuss medication, I’d like to understand what’s causing it. Sudden changes in sex drive can be linked to hormonal, neurological or psychological factors.”

“So you’re saying I’m sick?” I asked

“I’m saying we need more information.”

“And until then?”

"I'll order some bloodwork tests and an MRI scan to determine the cause of the headache and loss of consciousness. Once we know what's driving this, we can talk about treatment options."

She then turned to Nurse Carol. “Carol please escort Ms lyanna down to the laboratories.”

She handed her the note she was scribbling and sent us on our way.

As Nurse Carol and I walked down the hallway, I asked, “what if they don’t find anything?”

She glanced at me and smiled reassuringly. “Then Dr Hart keeps looking.”

We continued walking through a maze of hallway until we reached the laboratory.

I sat in a padded chair while the phlebotomist prepared the needles, and closed my eyes.

Normally I hated needles. But today I barely noticed them.

My mind had drifted back to the biker guy, and the way he had made my pussy sore yesterday.

I shifted in my sit and moaned.

Then I heard Nurse Carol cough loudly.

The phlebotomist, was staring at me with a weirded out face expression as he slowly withdrew the needle from my hand.

“Sorry,”

I was so embarrassed. This wasn’t me at all. Normally I was very composed.

I closed my eyes again in shame.

The phlebotomist, cleared his throat prompting me to open my eyes and comically said, “needle coming to skin.” It almost sounded like he was mimicking, “here comes the choochoo train.”

As he pricked my skin, I felt a new wave of pleasure in the already present heat coiling through my body.

I shut my eyes tightly as the pleasure of being pricked vibrated through my body straight to my pussy.

I want to be bitten.

The strange thought suddenly occurred loudly in mind.

I opened my eyes. It came again unbridled.

I want to be bitten so bad.

I jolted up straight, scaring both the phlebotomist and Nurse Carol.

“Easy” the phlebotomist said gently, like he was talking to a rabid squirrel. I looked at my arm and noticed the needle was still in my skin.

“Easy.” He repeated slowly. “Almost done.” When the needle was filled with blood, he withdrew it and placed a band aid on the wound it had caused and said, “there we go. Good.”

“…girl.” I added in my head. I stood up abruptly and went outside to catch my breath.

This whole experience made me feel like asking the phlebotomist to fuck me right there with his medical equipment, and telling nurse Carol I’d love it if she watched while he rimmed needles in my skin.

I came back and found the phlebotomist and Nurse Carol deep in a hushed conservation.

They must be talking about me. I figured self consciously, clutching my purse tightly.

I hoped that somewhere in those several vails of my dark red blood was an answer.

I couldn’t take this anymore.

Nurse Carol then led me downstairs to radiology.

As we approached the MRI machine, it’s mechanical and threatening look freaked me out.

I hoped I didn’t die in there.

Nurse Carol saw my scared look and assured me. “You will be fine.”

I wasn’t convinced.

I laid on the narrow table while the technician positioned cushions around my head.

“Try not to move.”

The machine swallowed me inch by inch, making the tunnel feel impossibly small and triggering my claustrophobia.

My pulse quickened.

More scary thoughts started entering my head.

What if it was a tumor?

What if I had a stroke?

The MRI erupted into a series of deafening metallic pumps, making me squeeze my eyes shut.

What if this became my life. A horny insatiable grade school teacher. Someone like me had no business being around children.

A filthy nymphomaniac.

For the next thirty minutes, I laid perfectly still while fear and frustration battled inside me.

By the time the scan ended, I was exhausted.

But then I also noticed my horniness had subsided a little bit. Thank you claustrophobia for giving my brain something else to hold onto.

I found Nurse Carol waiting outside.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Now we wait for Dr Hart.”