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Message-ID: <56357asstr$1185984602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: menstrualclinic@aim.com
Reply-To: menstrualclinic@aim.com
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Subject: {ASSM} Diane's PMS Cure (M/F, menstruation, gyno)
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Date: Wed, 01 Aug 2007 12:10:02 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Diane's PMS Cure

Diane ran through the front door to her office building, spilling coffee 
and burning her hand in the process, and trotted back to her desk. She put 
her coffee cup down, took off her jacket, picked her purse back up and 
started towards the bathroom.

"Late again?"

Diane looked up. It was her boss, Jeff.

"Jeff, it's 8:07. There's no rule that says I have to be here right at 8. 
No one else in this company comes in that early." Diane could feel crotch 
getting warm.

Jeff continued to stand in the doorway of her cubicle. "So how's your 
project coming?"

"Can I talk about it in a minute? I really need to get to the restroom." 
Jeff stood for another few seconds, looked at his watch, then told Diane 
to be in his office at 8:15 for a brief status meeting. He slowly sipped 
his coffee and half-heartedly got out of the way. Diane muscled past him 
and made a beeline for the ladies' room.

"Jackass", she said as she walked into the farthest stall. She unfastened 
her jeans and pulled them down to her knees. She took a deep breath and 
slowly pulled down her panties. She could feel the ooze.

"Dammit!"

She reached over for some toilet paper. The dispenser was empty. She 
pulled her panties up to the point where she could walk, grabbed her 
purse, and walked into the next stall. This one had paper.

Diane grabbed a wad of toilet paper and cleaned herself up. She cleaned 
her panties the best she could. She knew Jeff delaying her those thirty 
seconds didn't cause her to bloody her panties more, but she still thought 
Jeff was an ass.

She sat down to pee and rummaged in her purse. She had a thin maxi with 
wings from last month. Thank God. Nothing had gone right this morning. She 
was majorly PMSy last night and fell asleep reading. She woke up late 
having slept on the couch all night. Her neck was stiff, her boobs were 
sore, she was in a bad mood, and was late for work. And to top it all off, 
her period snuck up on her a day early.

After peeing she wiped herself then unwrapped the pad from its yellow 
plastic wrapper. She peeled the backing off and placed it in her soiled 
panties. She pulled the backings from the wings and folded those over. 
After throwing the trash away in the little can on the stall wall, she 
wiped herself one more time, but the toilet paper came up clean. She 
pulled up her panties, made sure the pad was snug, then pulled up her 
jeans. She flushed then took inventory.

One more pad and a tampon. She shouldn't start flowing good until the 
afternoon, so she was probably safe.

Diane went to Jeff's office. Her head was starting to throb. Her uterus 
felt as large as a beachball. Her vision was blurry and felt disconnected 
from her mind, body, and reality. The conversation lasted about sixty 
seconds and she went back to her cubicle.

This was Diane's first job out of college. She earned her Bachelor's 
degree in computer engineering with a minor in Biology, then went on to 
earn her Master's degree in Computer Science. She came from a devoutly 
Catholic family with Old World values. The boys made careers while the 
girls stayed home and made babies. Her father was very reluctant to send 
her to college. She was determined to go, so he used money he had saved 
since she was born, money that was to be spend on her wedding. The extra 
year to complete her extra biology courses, plus the additional two years 
in graduate school ate up her "dowry" (as she liked to call it, even 
though it was not the correct term), so she applied for various loans and 
grants. She graduated at the age of 25 with two degrees and about $30,000 
worth of debt. Diane had no trouble finding a high paying job. She lived a 
sparse existance and paid most of the debt off before the dot-com bubble 
burst.

Last year Diane watched as her company went from 110 to 19 employees. They 
laid off the dippy receptionist a few months ago making her the only 
female in the place. At no time did she consider herself lucky. She was 
good. She worked very hard. Jeff told her once that the only reason he 
kept her was because they needed a token female. Harrassment? You bet! 
What could she do about it? Not a thing. She had the goods on them. The 
systems administrator wrote an application called "dianepms" that tracked 
her period for the men in her group. They all thought it was a real hoot 
and honestly thought she was oblivious to it. She wasn't real regular, so 
the calendar was often off a few days. She made backups of the program, 
even copying the data file that got updated every couple of months. Since 
Becky, the receptionist, had gone they had her cycle down to the day. It 
was obvious how they did it. She was the only female in the building, so a 
casual inspection of the "blood bucket" in the stall in the ladies' room 
could tell them everything.

She had no immediate plans for using the back ups she had made. If she 
ever got laid-off she could take them to court. But what then? Who would 
hire her later? Her company did write medical software, they'd just claim 
that's all it was. What was the use?

Diane had a reputation of being a bitch. This hurt her, but quickly 
rationalized it. She had to fight her dad to go to college. Her younger 
brother started college two years later with her father's full blessings 
and financial support. She started her career saddled with debt while her 
brother didn't owe a cent. She relied on friends and the campus bus 
service, he drove his own truck. She went to the local no-name university, 
he went to the big prestigious state university. Why? All because she was 
born with a vagina.

Her professors treated her like a cute little puppy trying to comprehend 
engineering. Her design projects were the best, but she rarely received 
the highest grade in the class. During her senior year a female professor 
took her under her wing and encouraged her to enter graduate school. She 
long suspected, then confirmed the professor was a lesbian. But that 
didn't matter. Dr. Nichols was faithful to her girlfriend of 12 years and 
there was never a question of Diane having to sleep her way into grad 
school, even with a lesbian. Diane was never very lucky in love. She was 
cute, but just didn't have the body men looked for. Her bra size was 34A. 
She stood about five-foot-three and had the shape of a Pringles can. A lot 
of men she dated were jerks. Others had annoying habits. Chronically late. 
Chronically early. Didn't shave. Men!

Diane got her first period when she was 11 years-old, just about six weeks 
shy of her twelfth birthday. Most girls felt very grown up when this 
happened. Diane just felt like it was one more hassle. She bled 
infrequently off and on until she was about 13 or 14. She couldn't believe 
what a mess it was. She could feel herself getting crabbier and crabbier 
as the months went by. It wasn't fair. Boys didn't bleed, get pregnant, 
have to wear pantyhose, or get questioned when they wanted to study 
engineering.

She was now 32, over two decades of periods. Just what? Less than two to 
go? She knew she had PMS, but that was the just price of being the 
superior sex. There was nothing she could do about it.

Diane's morning was hell. She couldn't focus on her computer screen. Her 
bloating blurred her vision. She had to run to pee every hour. She felt 
like she was sitting in warm mud. She ate so many candy bars, potato 
chips, and diet Cokes, her stomach started to revolt. Time was no longer 
linear. She had worked through lunch when the phone rang.

"This is Diane."

"Hi, it's me, Megan. How are ya'?"

Megan was a perky blonde who probably couldn't spell "PMS" much less know 
what it was to suffer from it. Megan frequently worried she was "late" but 
had no clue when her last period occurred or where she was in her cycle. 
Diane could almost give each day a name. "Yucky mucous day." "Blood and 
clot day." "Homocidal bitch day." Since Megan couldn't even begin to 
relate to PMS, Diane gave her a non-commital "Fine."

"Are you ready for tonight?"

Oh shit.

"Is that tonight?"

"Diane! I worked so hard to set you two up. You forgot?"

"I'm sorry, it's been a bad morning."

"Diane, please tell me you're not PMSing. You shouldn't date when you're 
PMSing."

"No, I'm just past that stage."

"Okay, that's good."

"Megan, I'm bleeding. I'm like a PMS bitch who's been shot. Can I 
reschedule this?"

"Diane, no. No, you need to get out, enjoy your life. It was so hard 
convincing my sister to introduce him to me so I could check him out for 
you. No, you have to go."

"What's this guy do? Manage a bowling alley?"

"Diane, what is with you? I've only set you up with nice men. You're so 
hard on them. Like Steve."

"Steve arrived to my apartment late every date. Or so early I couldn't let 
him in."

"Diane, he works for the state 45 miles from here. You know what traffic 
is like."

"The days I was ready he'd be 30 minute late. The days I wasn't he'd be 10 
minutes early. I can't schedule my life around that."

"Okay, listen, seven o'clock at the Mango Grill, okay?"

"I'll be there."

The afternoon wasn't much better. Her program had serious bugs she 
couldn't find. She learned one she completed two months ago was rejected 
by FDA for another bug. By three she had just about had it. She grabbed 
her purse and made about her tenth trip to the ladies' room. Her maxi was 
getting full. She had started to feel her flow pick up steam. She peed and 
ripped her pad out and rolled it up. Holding it with two fingers, she 
unwrapped her last one from her purse and used the wrapper from the second 
to wrap up the first. She stuck the pad on as before after disposing of 
the bloodied one. She reached into her purse for her tampon. She unwrapped 
up and held the applicator at the entrance of her vagina. She took a deep 
breath and stuck in it. "Women find this pleasurable?" she thought. As a 
good Catholic girl, she had never had sex. There was that one day a month 
where she craved a man, but despised them the remaining days. She pressed 
on the plunger, pushing the tampon well into her vagina. She pulled it 
back out and wrapped the bloody applicator in toilet paper and threw it in 
with the used maxi pad.

Diane planned to leave work around five, go home, clean up, and meet Phil 
at seven. That was not to be. At 3:45 two men from FDA showed up asking 
about the project she was currently on. It would analyze a patient's heart 
rhythm more accurately than an EKG revealing now hidden flaws that could 
lead to heart disease even years down the road. They didn't leave until 
6:30. She raced out to her car and drove to the restaurant. She was in the 
parking lot at precisely 6:52. She freshened her makeup in the rearview 
mirror and walked into the restaurant as her watch struck 7. "He's late." 
Diane had splurged and bought a watch that synchronized with the Naval 
Observatory and she was a stickler for time. Not a second early, not a 
second late.

She glanced at her watch every 30 seconds and huffed. The restaurant was 
dead and she was obviously making the staff a little nervous. At 7:17 a 
tall man wearing a dark suit and carrying a rose walked through the door. 
He walked straight up to her. "Diane?"

"Yes."

"Phil. I am so sorry I'm late. I had a delivery that took longer than 
expected."

She took the rose and summed him up. Late delivery? A beer truck driver 
who wears suits. Great.

They were seated. Phil ordered calamari and a bottle of red wine. Diane 
just sat there quietly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't get to eat lunch. So Megan tells me you build 
computers?"

Diane rolled her eyes. "I write software for MedCalSoft."

"Really. We use that in my office."

"Where do you work?"

"I'm a physician."

Wow, a doctor.

"Megan didn't tell me you're a doctor."

"I try not to advertise it. You'd be amazed. On a first date a woman will 
ask me to look at her foot or ask me to visit her sick aunt without 
insurance. I work enough hours, I don't need to be a doctor 168 hours per 
week.

"What software do you use?"

"I use the office management and patient management packages. I also have 
GynPalm on my PDA." He paused. "Yes, I'm an OB/GYN." Diane suddenly became 
aware of her gynecological issues. She would need to slip away and hope to 
God the ladies' room had a Kotex machine.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned that."

"Why?"

"Women don't always like GYNs. I mean what man would do that for a living, 
right? Truth is 80% of my office visits are routine flu, allergies, 
non-invasive OB checks. I dated a girl who after the third or fourth date 
blew up at a party about me looking at other women all day and stormed 
out. There are a lot of women out there who just can't handle their 
significant other examining women. I have friends who got married in med 
school only to have their wives leave them when they started practicing. 
Crazy."

The waitress brought the appetizer and wine. Phil ordered a grilled 
chicken salad. Diane ordered the sesame chicken.

"Take that waitress. Is she a patient of mine? Some women drive themselves 
bonkers, looking at every other woman with suspicion and envy."

Diane ate a piece of calamari. It was the first substantial food she'd 
eaten all day.

"So is she a patient of yours?"

"No."

She swallowed some wine.

"Why'd you choose your field instead of, say, pediatrics?"

"So many male doctors treat women like they're mindless shells who don't 
know what's going on with their bodies. These same doctors treat their 
male patients with respect. I couldn't believe it. I took an interest in 
reaching out to women patients. I got really good feedback. One woman told 
me if I didn't go into OB/GYN I was making a huge mistake."

The two continued to chat through dinner. This was the first guy who 
clicked for her. Wow. She forgot about her period until cramping hit.

"Diane, you don't look so good."

"I'm sorry. Long day."

"Would you like to go home. We can see the movie another evening."

Diane looked around not believing what she was about to say. "I got my 
period today and am just a little not with it."

Phil took a sip of his red wine.

"Do you suffer from PMS?"

"Yes."

"Bad cramping, bloating, moodiness?"

"Yes."

"If I may be frank with you, have you evaluated your eating habits?"

"Like going on a diet?"

"No, a complete lifestyle change. That dinner you ate. Full of MSG. That's 
the worst thing you can eat, especially during your period. And I don't 
mean to be rude, you finished off most of that calamari. Did you live off 
of chocolate, salty snacks, and caffeine today?"

"Yes I did."

Phil took another sip of his wine. "Tell you what. The paper claims the 
movie we planned to see was pretty bad. Why don't you follow me back to my 
office. I have some literature for you and short term some medication I 
think can help you."

Without hesitating Diane answered, "Okay."

Diane followed Phil to his office. They drove past the hospital and about 
a mile past it was a cluster of medical arts buildings. Because of the 
late hour there were few cars in the parking lot. She pulled into the 
parking space next to his car.

They met at the front of both their cars and instinctively held hands as 
they walked silently up to his office. Stenciled on this door was:

Dr. Phil Lopian, M.D., P.A., F.A.C.O.G.

He unlocked the door, let her in, then walked over to the security panel 
to deactivate the alarm. Once he did, he turned on the lights.

"Well, this is where I work all day. Here and the hospital."

The office looked just like every other doctor's office in the city and 
across the country. The waiting room was a peach color and had a 
definitely feminine theme. Obvious since 100% of his patients were women, 
plus he would want to provide a safe, soothing environment.

"I'll give you the nickel tour."

He again held her hand and showed her the six examination rooms. "The 
first exam room is the OB room where I can perform ultrasounds. In the 
back is the x-ray/mammography lab where I can, of course, take x-rays and 
mammograms."

Diane smiled.

"We'll be going into exam room two."

"Okay." she answered hollowly.

Phil followeed her in, opened a cabinet, pulled out a gown and handed it 
to her.

"Strip down to your panties and put this on. I'm going to go start a file 
on you."

"Wait, Doctor, I mean, Phil. I didn't say you could examine me."

"Diane. I need to perform a routine physical examination before I can 
prescribe anything."

"Wait though. You can't do that because I'm on, uh, having my period."

"I'm not taking a Pap smear, just a routine exam. It doesn't matter if 
you're menstruating."

She stood there quietly, not sure what she should do.

"Diane. It's because of women like you I went into gynecology."

She looked at him skeptically.

"Did you mention your symptoms to your doctor during your last exam?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"It was normal."

"Exactly. PMS is common, but it's not normal. I can help you, Diane. Tell 
me this, when was you last exam?"

Diane had to think. She was rarely sick and since she wasn't sexually 
active, she saw little need to have annual exams.

Her first exam was about 12 years ago in college. She had a stomach virus. 
The doctor had her don a gown and performed a full exam on her without 
communicating a thing. She passed out briefly when he inserted the 
speculum. After determining she wasn't pregnant he suggested Pepto Bismol. 
She went back to her dorm, vomitted, and cried.

About five years later she got sick and broke down and went to the doctor. 
A female doctor. All Diane wanted was some antibiotics, but the doctor 
insisted on a full exam. She was nowhere near as rough as the doctor in 
college, but still did not enjoy the experience.

Three years ago she went to yet another doctor, another man. Her periods 
had gotten very heavy. Never in her life had Diane used a tampon, but she 
felt like she had no choice. Her mother didn't think good girls used 
tampons. Her sister told her only married women should use them, it just 
wasn't appropriate for a single, virginal woman to be using tampons. 
However all of her friends used them as did all of her college roomates, 
so she gave them a try. At first she coated the applicator with KY Jelly 
(she felt like a really loose woman buying that) before using them, but 
after her second cycle on tampons became more used to them. She wondered 
what her mother would think. But pads alone just weren't cutting it, so 
she had little choice. In the end the third doctor told her heavy periods 
and PMS were a normal part of being a woman, so she would have to learn to 
work around those issues.

She told Phil a little about her history and bad experiences with doctors. 
He nodded sympathetically. "Go ahead and put on the gown, I'll be back in 
a few minutes with some paperwork." He kissed her forehead and left the 
room. Diane took a deep breath and thought to herself, "This has got to go 
into the annals of weirdness. I go out on a blind date and next thing I 
know I'm letting him examine me."

She took off her blouse and draped it over the chair. She unhooked her bra 
and laid it over her blouse. She stopped, then picked up her blouse and 
put her bra down first so the blouse would cover it. She became painfully 
aware of her small breasts. "If these tiny things don't turn him off, I'm 
not sure what will."

She unfastened her jeans and slipped them off. "Oh no!" A little stream of 
blood came out from under her panties when she had her leg bent in the air 
getting the pants leg off. "God I stink." Gee, small boobs and a bloody, 
smelly crotch. What a great date she was!

She grabbed a tissue to wipe the blood off her leg, got the gown on, and 
sat on the table. She could feel her tampon about to fall out.

A moment later Phil knocked then came in. She felt so naked in the gown. 
She looked over at the chair to make sure her bra was still hidden.

He smiled and sat in a stool on wheels. "I'm going to ask a few questions 
about your medical history before we get started, okay?"

"Okay."

"Full name?"

"Mary Diane Sullivan."

"Age?"

"32"

He continued asked mundane questions about her address, employer, etc.

"Date of last period?"

"Well, today. On my way to work."

"How many days apart is your cycle?"

"Anywhere from 25 to 30. Just depends."

"Do you use birth control?"

"No."

"Are you sexually active or have you been sexually active in the past 12 
months?"

"No."

Phil changed his tone of voice. "You don't have to play the prude for me. 
Have you really been celebate for the past 12 months?"

"I'm an old fashioned Catholic girl. I really have never, uh, never done 
it. Had sex that is."

He decided not to ask her about pregnancies or miscarriages and abortions.

"I don't think it's that bad I'm still a virgin."

Phil looked up at her. "I wish more women had that attitude. I see too 
many young women, girls even, 14 or 15 years old who are pregnant, have an 
STD, or even AIDS. What a way to ruin your life. Some girls will become 
vegetarians in the name of health, then go out and sleep with Sammy the 
Gangbanger and get God knows what. If I had a hat on I'd tip it to you."

Diane smiled.

"Okay, I want to attack your concerns two ways. First, with medication. I 
don't like prescribing medicines, but I believe they can benefit you short 
term. Secondly I'd like to address you diet and general lifestyles."

"Okay."

"I will be writing two prescriptions for you. One is a low hormone birth 
control pill, the other Serafem, an anti-depressant."

"Phil, I can't. I'm Catholic remember? I can't use birth control pills."

Phil put up one hand and nodded. "I know. I am not prescribing these pills 
to prevent pregnancy. It's regulate your cycle better and put your 
homormones on a more even keel. If you're not sexually active you should 
have no concerns. Should you become active, simply abstain during 
ovulation."

Diane sighed. "Okay, you know best Doc."

Phil took her vitals. All were within limits.

"I'm going to feel you neck and check your thyroid." She sat there while 
he palpated her neck and throat.

"Please lie down now."

Diane did as she was asked.

"I'm going to perform a breast exam."

Oh no, not those little things. Hardly worth examining. At least it won't 
take long.

He felt both breasts, going in a circle, slowly closing in on her nipple 
which he squeezed looking for discharge. He then felt up into her armpits.

"Are you breasts usually this lumpy?"

"I'm not sure. What do you mean?"

"Do you examine your breasts every month?"

"No."

"It's important. I know women don't like feeling themselves up, but it's 
very important for your health to check them."

He held Diane's hand and brought it to her breast. He mashed her fingers 
into her right breast.

"Ow!"

"I'm sorry, do you feel how lumpy that feels?"

"Yes."

"I don't think it's anything. Some women have lumpy breasts. Just be aware 
of any changes."

"Okay."

Phil moved down and palpated her abdomen. Everything felt normal. He then 
put on a pair of latex gloves.

"Okay, I'm going to remove your panties."

"What? I didn't think... I'm on my period."

"I know. But I need to do a pelvic exam."

"But I'm bleeding. Phil, my period was early this morning and I wasn't 
prepared and I've had the same pad on since this afternoon. I'm really 
gross."

Phil shook his head. "I've seen worse."

Diane relaxed and raised up her butt as he slid her panties off. She just 
stared at the ceiling. She heard him rip her pad out of her panties and 
placed it inside a kidney shaped metal dish on a table next to her. The 
thing was completely soaked.

She felt Phil's hands run along the inside of her thighs. She barely felt 
him remove her tampon. It was so full it just flopped out. Also when she 
removed it herself, she tended to tighten her vaginal muscles. She kept 
them loose for Phil.

Phil put the tampon in the same bowl with the pad. No wonder she was 
leaking. Neither could hold another drop. She felt blood running out of 
her vagina. Phil took some gauze and wiped her clean.

"I'm going to examine your vulva. Check for lumps, sores, and the like."

"Okay."

Can I say anything besides okay?

"Everything's fine. Now I need to check your internal organs. I'll be 
placing two of my fingers inside of you and pressing on your abdomen. 
Because you're menstruating this might feel a little uncomfortable."

This time she nodded.

His two fingers slid in easily. He pressed on her uterus, checked her 
tubes, and ovaries. When he pressed down on her uterus she felt a squish 
and felt more blood rush out of her.

"Now I need to perform a bi-manual exam. I will have one finger in your 
anus and two in your vagina. Just try to relax."

Try?

Never in her life had anything been in her ass. First time for everything.

She felt herself pull away as he placed his finger into her rectum.

"Scoot back down, girl."

Diane lifted her butt up and slid down. He probed about some more and 
before she knew it, he was done. He took off his gloves and wheeled 
himself over to her.

"Okay, everything is in order."

Phil reached over and grabbed the bowl containing her used pad and tampon. 
He held it in one hand and a dental pick in the other.

"I was looking at your pad and tampon and you'll notice large clots."

Diane's stomach just turned. She never looked that closely at her spent 
products.

"I have not yet proven this. But for two years I have researched this 
matter. Women with larger clots have more difficult periods." He poked at 
some of the larger clots on her tampon. "See how hard they are? The 
opening to your cervix, called the os by the way, is normally closed and 
at most will open only about 2 millimeters wide without discomfort. As you 
can see these clots are larger."

Diane looked at the clots some more. God periods are gross.

"My theory is this. The uterus works very hard to expel its endometrial 
lining during menstruation. Clots block the os causing your uterus to work 
harder. This causes cramping. Furthermore in order to break down the 
clots, your body retains water which of course leads to bloating, tender 
breasts, and general discomfort."

Diane realized she was still in the stirrups. Oh well, she was 
comfortable.

"What I want to do now is dilate your cervix slightly and help the larger 
clots pass. This won't hurt, but you might have a queazy sensation in your 
stomach."

"Okay."

Phil grabbed a plastic bag from a box under the table. Actually it was two 
bags. He opened one.

"This is a disposable plastic speculum. I prefer these because they're 
less intimidating and I can just throw them away." He showed her how they 
open, close, and lock into place. Then he handed it to her. "Just play it 
with. It'll demystify the thing for you."

Phil rolled over to the business end of Diane. "I'm going to insert the 
speculum now. Just take a deep breath, hold it, then exhale." She did and 
he slipped the speculum in. He then selected a long, thin rod from his 
table of instruments. He pressed the tip into her cervix causing it to 
open. Diane felt waves of nausea pass over her, but they passed. Phil 
removed the dialator and began pressing on her uterus. Diane of course had 
never been pregnant, but she imagined her water breaking being a lot like 
what she felt. She thought liquid was just pouring out of her.

"That felt worse than it was. Probably about a day's worth of menstrual 
fluid. You passed several large clots. The rest of your period should 
progress nicely."

Phil rolled back over to Diane's side. She saw his gloves were quite 
bloody.

He removed them and grabbed his clipboard.

"Okay young lady. Only two things belong in your vagina. Penises and 
babies. Well, maybe a clean finger. Stop using tampons."

"Why?"

"They're full of chemicals. Your vaginal walls absorb these chemicals very 
easily. They're also irritating. But pads aren't the wonderful either."

"What should I use?"

Phil smiled. "Natural pads. I noticed your vulva was a little irritated. 
Probably a combination of the chemicals in your Kotex and sitting in blood 
all afternoon. I'll give you a sample before you leave tonight. They cost 
a little more, but are more than worth it."

Diane could feel blood really flowing out of her. It was running down her 
butt crack and pooling under her.

"Phil, I'm a very heavy bleeder. I need the tampons."

"Once we've better regulated you, your flow will more slow and steady. I 
can guarantee you you won't have any accidents. I want you to avoid MSG 
and salt. Drink lots of water, especially during the week before your 
period. Avoid caffeine. Exercise, eat a balanced diet. I know you hear 
these things everyday, but they're so true, Diane."

"Okay."

"Now there's one last thing I'd for you to consider. Masturbation."

If Diane had not been in the stirrups she would've fallen off the table.

"What?"

Phil smiled. "I know, touchy topic. Sexual stimulation and orgasm flushes 
blood out of the uterine region and will help reduce your clots." Diane 
just lied there and looked at the ceiling. Phil rolled back to the 
business end and began rubbing her clitoris.

"What are you doing?"

"Demonstrating."

"She felt like she should ask him to stop, but didn't want to." He 
continued slowly rubbing her. She felt very relaxed. Once when she was 16 
she had tried masturbating in bed thinking about a boy she liked. When it 
began to feel really good she stopped. She wanted to confess, but was too 
afraid. Phil has passed the point she was at 16 years ago, but hadn't 
taken her to orgasm. Moments before she felt like she would climax, he 
stopped.

Phil rolled his stool over next to her again. "Did that feel okay?"

"Yesssss."

"Shall I continue?"

"Uh huh."

Phil rolled back down and continued. Once again right before she climaxed 
he pulled away. She trust her hips up trying to rub his withdrawing 
fingers, but it didn't work. He rolled over to her again. "Naughty, 
naughty."

"God Phil I'm so close."

"I know, but I need to circulate more blood through your uterus." Phil 
went through this routine four more times. Diane thought she was going to 
scream. She looked at her watch. It was ten past midnight. She heard a 
zipper. Pants coming down. Phil stood at her feet. He eased his body into 
hers. She orgasmed immediately. He trusted himself over and over. Finally 
he came too.

"I'm scheduling you for another visit on the 18th of next month."

"I'll be starting my period that day."

"I know."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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