Chapter 2

He lay back down on the bed again. This time his pants were completely off and draped over the rack at the foot of the bed. He only had a T-shirt left on, but he had tugged it up by the hem until his stomach was exposed.

Jiang Tang put on a fresh pair of gloves, took a small bottle of lubricant, squeezed a little onto her finger, and spread it around.

"I’m going to do an internal exam first and see exactly what’s going on," she said, her fingers already brushing his perineum. "A little cold. Bear with it."

Her fingers pressed there, kneading in slow circles with just the right amount of force.

He could feel her fingertips searching through the skin for something. Now and then, when she pressed a certain spot, a dull soreness would rise up from deep inside.

"Does this hurt?"

"No."

"How about this?"

"A little sore."

She nodded and shifted her fingers to another position, continuing to press.

He lay there not knowing where to look, so he stared at the ceiling.

The ceiling was white, with a few panels yellowed at the edges, probably from old water stains.

"Relax a bit," she said again. "You’re tensing up the whole time. I can’t get a proper read on you."

He tried to relax, but his body wouldn’t listen.

Where her fingers had pressed, his skin was left with a cool trace that was quickly warmed by his own body heat.

He could feel his heart pounding hard in his chest.

"All right," she said at last, pulling her hand back. She took off the gloves and threw them in the trash, then opened a cabinet and took out a tray with a few items on it.

A small bottle of lubricant, a pack of wet wipes, several clear little cups, and one thing he had never seen before, something like a thin straw attached to a tiny transparent container.

She set the tray on the bedside table, then began undressing.

He instinctively turned his head away.

"What are you hiding from?" Her voice had a hint of amusement. "There’s going to be even more up close in a minute. What are you looking away for now?"

He didn’t answer, and he still didn’t turn back. He heard the rustle of fabric, and a few seconds later, everything went quiet.

"All right, look."

Slowly, he turned his head back.

She was standing by the bed, wearing nothing but a set of white underwear.

Not ordinary underwear, either. It was more like a custom swimsuit, with very little fabric and a tight, constricting fit.

The chest piece covered only half of her breasts, and the bottom was a narrow triangle cut with thin ties at the sides, leaving her hips exposed and her waist cinched in tight.

Her skin glowed faintly under the light, showing she had smeared something over it.

"It’s a treatment suit. Breathable, and it won’t get in the way of movement," she explained, then climbed onto the bed and knelt beside his legs. "Lie still. Don’t move around."

She leaned down.

He could see the shallow dip above her collarbones and the line of cleavage across her chest.

Her skin was very fair, but not the unhealthy kind of white. It had a translucent look, with faint blue veins visible beneath it.

There was a faint shampoo scent in her hair, mingled with her own body heat, drifting into his nose.

"First, I’ll use oral stimulation to build up your initial response," she said close to him, her breath warm against his lower abdomen. "This part will take about five to ten minutes. The main goal is to get your body into the right state. If you feel anything, tell me so I can adjust the pressure and rhythm."

He gave a dry little sound of agreement.

She lowered her head, and her lips touched his skin.

At first it was only the lightest contact, a brief brush like a dragonfly skimming water.

Her lips were a little dry at first, carrying a faint roughness as they moved over him, but they soon grew wet.

He could feel the warmth of her tongue, tracing circles over his lower abdomen again and again.

He clenched the sheets.

Her lips moved downward, past his navel, and farther still.

He could feel her hot breath spilling over his most sensitive place in waves.

He wanted to close his legs, but her body was in the way and he couldn’t move.

"Don’t clamp your thighs together," she said, glancing up at him. "You’re too tense right now. Relax, and then it’ll actually work."

When she finished speaking, she lowered her head again, this time opening her mouth.

He sucked in a sharp breath.

Her lips closed around him, warm, wet, and soft.

He could feel her tongue pressed there, working in slow circles.

Her movements were not fast, and they were very light, as if she were testing something.

Now and then she would increase the pressure a little, or change the angle, then watch his reaction.

"Mmm..."

She stopped and looked up at him. "Feel something?"

He nodded, his face burning.

"What does it feel like?"

"Just... a little... numb."

"Numb is normal. That means the nerve endings are starting to respond again." She lowered her head once more and continued.

This time, she started experimenting with variations.

Her lips tightened, her tongue pressed against one spot, moving up and down.

He could feel the shape of her mouth stretching around him, and the temperature inside it was even hotter than before.

Now and then, a dull sound came from the back of her throat as she adjusted her breathing.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip, trying not to make a sound.

But it seemed like she could feel every change in his breathing. Whenever he inhaled more sharply, she would stay in that spot a little longer or increase the pressure slightly.

Her lips, her tongue, the inside of her mouth, every part of her was working, every part of her was stimulating him.

After about seven or eight minutes, she raised her head. Her lips were shining wetly.

"All right, the first stage is about done," she said, drawing a breath and wiping the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "Your response is better than expected. We’ll move on to the next step now."

She picked up the bottle of lubricant, squeezed some onto her hand, and spread it between her own thighs. He saw the movement and looked away again.

"Look," she said, pointing at herself. "This is the core tool we use as therapists: channel clearance. This area is extremely sensitive. In theory, the stimulation works better than oral stimulation. When we hire people, we specifically choose for sensitivity. The more sensitive someone is, the better the treatment works. Of course, there’s a downside to being sensitive too, which is that we also react ourselves. But that’s a normal physiological phenomenon. It doesn’t affect the treatment."

As she spoke, she adjusted her position, kneeling on either side of his body and slowly lowering herself down.

He felt her body drawing close, felt her warmth and the scent of lubricant mingling on her skin. Then he felt himself enter a place that was hot, tight, and wet.

She paused, adjusted her breathing, and then began moving slowly.

"Haa..." She let out a long breath. "Don’t move. I’ll control the rhythm."

Her hands pressed against his chest, her body rising and falling above him.

He could see her expression clearly now, her brows faintly knit, her lips pressed together, her eyes fixed on something below him as if she were observing the process.

With every movement, her body gave a small tremor, and that tremor traveled through the hand braced against his chest and into him.

"How does it feel now?" she asked as she moved.

He opened his mouth but couldn’t get any words out.

"Say it out loud. It’s part of the treatment." Her voice was a little unsteady, but she still tried to keep it professional. "Your feedback... is important. I need to adjust the motion... based on how you feel."

"Very... hot," he finally managed to say.

"Hot is right." She changed the angle and leaned forward a little. "How about now?"

He gave a muffled groan and said nothing.

The corner of her mouth moved, as if she were smiling, or maybe just adjusting her expression.

"You’re very honest with your reactions. Better than I expected," she said in broken bursts, her breathing uneven. "A lot of first-timers... are so nervous they... can’t even get hard... You, at least, don’t have a hardware problem..."

As he listened to her, the sensations in his body grew stronger and stronger.

He could feel every tightening and loosening of her body, every rise and fall, every bit of friction in that sensitive place.

She had started sweating. A thin sheen glistened over her skin, her chest rising and falling, her lips slightly parted, her breathing getting heavier.

"I... I’m reacting too," she gasped. "Can you feel it... inside... it moves on its own..."

He really could feel it. Deep inside her body, there were rhythmic contractions, and each one seemed to squeeze him tighter. The sensation was stronger than anything he had ever felt before.

"This is a normal... treatment response..." she continued. "Sensitive people... get better results... but they... feel it too... we were trained... specifically on this..."

Her voice became more and more fragmented, and her movements picked up speed.

He could feel her body trembling, the shaking growing more intense, passing through the hands braced on his chest and into him.

Her face was turning red, the color spreading from her cheeks to her neck, and then to her chest.

"Y-you’re... close?" she gasped. "Do you feel... like you’re about to shoot?"

He shook his head, unable to speak. He really didn’t feel like he was about to cum. That familiar sense of buildup, the surge to the peak and release, still hadn’t come.

She panted for a few breaths, then stopped.

"No, this is worse than I thought." She slid off him and knelt to one side, sweat beading on her forehead. "The second-stage stimulation was enough, but you still can’t cum. We’ll have to switch to the third stage."

She picked up the thing he had never seen before, that thin straw attached to the transparent container.

"This is a medical suction device," she explained. "In a moment I’ll use it to draw out the fluid deep inside you, then taste it and judge the condition."

He looked at the slender instrument and instinctively shrank back a little.

"Don’t be scared. It doesn’t hurt." She held the suction device up for him to see. "It’s very thin. You’ll feel a little foreign-body sensation going in, but it won’t hurt."

She squeezed some lubricant onto the tip of the suction device, then moved closer.

"Relax. The more relaxed you are, the less uncomfortable it’ll feel."

Her fingers touched him first, then the slender instrument. Cold, slick, and slowly easing inside. When it passed a certain point, he felt a little fullness, but it really didn’t hurt.

She watched the suction device in her hand, watching the transparent container as a white fluid slowly began to appear inside it.

"All right," she said. She withdrew it, held it up to inspect it, then removed the small container and brought it to her lips.

He watched as she tipped the fluid from the container into her mouth, held it there for a moment, and then worked her tongue over it as if tasting something.

Her expression was very serious, her brows slightly furrowed, her lips pressed together, her tongue moving inside her mouth. After a few seconds she swallowed, then spoke.

"It’s on the thin side, with high transparency, and a little sweet," she told him. "Yours is a damp-heat type, not a cold-constriction type. The treatment direction is different. If it were cold-constriction, the fluid should be thick, yellow, and smell more fishy. In your case, the focus should be on clearing heat rather than warming and tonifying."

He lay there listening to her, the blush on his face still not fading.

She noticed his expression and smiled.

"Don’t be embarrassed. This is part of our profession. Testing bodily fluids is the most accurate method. It’s even more precise than the machines," she said, setting the suction device back on the tray. "Our department has been around for over thirty years. With the experience we’ve built up, you can’t measure it all with machines alone. Taste, viscosity, transparency, every detail reflects the state of the body. I’ve sampled so many fluids I’ve lost count. I can tell what’s going on from one taste."

He sat up, reaching for his pants.

"Don’t rush," she said, holding him down. "We’re not done yet. That was just the sample. The treatment isn’t over. Lie back down. I’ll do another round of clearing and try to get you to release it this time."

She squeezed out more lubricant, spread it over herself, and knelt beside him again.

"This time, cooperate with me," she said. "When I tell you to push, you push. When I tell you to relax, you relax. We’ll work together and try to succeed in one go."