Doctor Sara

Aron POV

"Sara, I longed for your presence."

My junior hardened as he sensed her closeness. Despite the torment my penis had endured, I tried to be gentle with her, understanding the pain of someone torturing our bodies.

My lust drove me insane. I tenderly kissed her lips, and she returned the gesture with equal intensity, as though she was yearning for my touch, desperately wanting to feel her grasp on my back. Lying on her body felt like falling asleep on a soft bed. My junior was excited to open her constricted vagina, but when I rested my head on her chest, I felt more at peace. Her heartbeat was so comforting. I fell asleep as she ran her fingers through my hair.

In the morning, I found myself still dozing off on her body. How come she didn't shove me away? How was she able to fall asleep with my bulky body resting on top of hers? I gazed upon her beautiful face, a look of contentment crossing it. I'm not sure why, but I couldn't help but kiss her forehead.

Last night, I was astonished to see that my junior didn't fuck her, even though I wanted to feel her tightness badly.

"Aron, how are you feeling now?" she roused herself from her slumber and spoke to me in a sleepy voice.

To me, her drowsy voice is like a beautiful tune. After two months, I heard her voice.

"What happened to me? I'm doing great," I tried to hide last night's pain by averting my gaze from her face.

"You were drunk," she turned away from my face.

She might have smelled alcohol. I distanced myself from her by removing her body.

"I am sorry; I was at a party last night." I'm not sure why, but as I tried to lie to her, a tiny twinge of anguish appeared in my chest. I indeed attended a party last night, but I was a submissive servant rather than a guest. They entertained themselves by treating my body as a toy.

"What sort of party was that, Aron?" She got out of bed and gave me an intense look full of questions.

"It was a normal party," I said, finding it difficult to conceal my grief when I stared into her eyes, so I didn't want to confront her.

"Then, what caused the hickey mark and bruise on your torso?" She questioned me like a police officer, and I couldn't help but try to think of a way to dodge her inquiries. Never in my life have I given in to a woman's curiosity, but for some reason, I can't seem to get away from her anymore.

"Sara, it's normal to have sex after drinking; I was inebriated," I rubbed my back in nervousness.

Why I am answering her questions about my personal life is beyond me.

"What will you say about the handcuff marks on your wrist?" She raised her eyebrow at me.

"With whom were you last night?"

Why has her once-sweet voice become angry?

I had to keep Aunt Jerry's secrets from her. But I find it challenging to lie to her.

"Sara, why are you so interested in my life? It appears you missed my presence in your life." I stepped closer to her in an attempt to deflect her gaze.

"No way. Why would I take an interest in your life? I inquired about those marks because I suspected someone was abusing you." She took a step back to distance herself from me.

"Do you genuinely think that molestation is a possibility?" I feigned a smile to conceal my inner agony, but upon hearing her, I was shocked, as no one had ever inquired about the bruises and markings scattered across my body before.

Many women noticed the bruises, but they showed little interest in my wrist marks. They were so blinded by their lust for me that they ignored my bruises.

Why did she read about my silent pain hidden behind the fake, shining eyes?

"Indeed, as a human, you are vulnerable to assault." I froze in shock upon hearing her remarks. She looked at me with the same worry that my grandmother only showed me.

Why is she expressing sympathy for me after I treated her so poorly, only to get what I was thirsty for?

When I noticed her concern, I felt compelled to share all the details of my past, but then I remembered the boundaries she had established for our friendship. I stepped back as I thought of her rejection of me. I went into the bathroom to shower.

Before I took a shower, I checked my clothes.

Oh, so she had indeed changed my clothes last night. I smiled, envisioning the blush on her face as she changed my clothes.

I noticed bandages on my body.

She is a dumb woman. She was unaware that bandaging hickey marks weren't necessary. I saw her massage my inner thighs with a pain-relieving balm. Her treatment of my body made me chuckle uncontrollably.

Despite her best efforts to alleviate my physical discomfort, she was unaware that the swelling in my legs was due to my legs spreading out excessively, not an actual injury.

Thank God, I was in a drunken state last night. If not, when I see Doctor Sara, I will die laughing.

Aiming to make my way to the office, I emerged from the restroom. Suddenly, the thought of the medications and injections crossed my mind. When she pulled out the first-aid box drawer, she undoubtedly glanced at the injections and tablets. I pulled the drawer open quickly. I exhaled a breath of relief upon discovering that the injection and tablets remained untouched.

"Aron, are you looking for something?" I shut the drawer as soon as I heard her voice.

"Sara, did you see anything in the drawer last night?" I wanted to know if she noticed the tablets or not.

"No, the darkness made it difficult for me to find the first aid box." I took a deep, calming breath upon seeing her reaction. To ensure she never saw those medications again, I closed the drawer and tucked the keys into my pocket.

"Would you like to join me for breakfast, Aron?" As I turned to leave the room, her remarks halted me.

She asked me directly to taste her cooked food, which boosted my ego and led me excitedly into the dining hall with her.