Post 195: Did Someone Here Make a Mess?

“Dr. Jjjjjjj…” she called in, peeking around the corner of my half-open office door. Olivia had left several minutes ago and I was still sitting there, half in a state of shock, half just plain trying to stay awake. I’d just fucking come in my pants, by my own hand while being subjugated by my new ‘Clinical Director’ and now…oh no.

Melissa.

“Are you still innnn heeeeerre?” she sang, stepping in. I nearly groaned as I watched, assaulted by the fucking size of her. Tits, legs, hips, height.  Green, again, her sweater, making me recall Olivia’s emerald ring, necklace and eyes. I don’t know if it was fear I felt but it wasn’t too far off. Fear of what? Her seeing evidence of what I’d done? Fear of being strapped into doing it again? Just plain fear of women? Whatever it was, I don’t have words for it at the moment. I just knew I was a mess, and I was tired. “Olivia told me you had a good meeting,” she said, smiling warmly at me as she approached, “‘productive’ was the word she used.”

urrk. I felt my throat catch. Productive? Yikes. I had ‘produced’ what seemed like a pint, and it soaked my khakis from mid-thigh to my knee. Had Olivia known??

“Y-y-yea it was fine…” I began, eyes widening as I watched Melissa come closer and closer and I couldn’t have her see what had happened I had to think there’s the coffee mug half-full of milk I’ll just-

“Wh-whoops…!” I feigned, in my panic spastically pulling and tipping the cup to spill onto my lap, trying my best to make the whole thing look accidental.

Whether I was believable or not didn’t seem to matter, it brought Melissa running. “Oh no!” she laughed, grabbing the nearest box of tissues from the corner of my desk and - yikes! - coming quickly to my side, “Did someone here make a mess?”

“Uhhhhh….” I groaned in answer, only able to watch as she knelt and began pulling tissues out one by one, gathering a handful. I looked down into my lap and - yes, mommy - I’d made a mess. A mug full of wet milk, thankfully, had overwhelmed and seemed to camouflage the huge jizz-blotch on my thigh, maybe saving me from even worse humiliation than I was already feeling. It had pooled around me in wet puddles on my chair, and Melissa seemed intent on cleaning it up.

“W-w-wait, no..!” I stopped her, grabbing her wrist as she reached out and had nearly set upon me. She looked up at me, from where she knelt, and in her eyes was something I hadn’t seen before. Her mouth smiling, slightly agape, eyes wide and sparkling and all but possessed. She was breathing deeply, quickly. I knew it right away - she smelled me.

“I-I-I-I can do that…” I stammered, taking the box of Kleenex from her other hand, awkwardly, letting go of her wrist and scooting myself back under the desk. I pulled out tissue after tissue and hurriedly began dabbing and wiping, rubbing and soaking up the come-filthy milk from my lap and seat. As exhausted as I was, my heart raced and I’d flushed red. Melissa slowly stood, and watched.

“Y-you’re going to need some paper towels,” she said, gathering herself again, taking a step back. “I’ll send one of the girls in,” she continued, working to keep her voice even, controlled, “you should go home, though. You look tired.”

I…I probably should, I silently agreed, pulling out more tissues, still vainly trying to clean my mess with these meager Kleenex. I knew she’d give my patients to the nurses, Vida and Morgan, maybe Karen. As useless as it made me feel, it would probably be for the best.

“Go up home, relax, sweetie,” she said, stepping backwards slowly, smile growing on her face again, “have a nice weekend…Let me know if you need me…”