Tilda was feeling uncomfortable. She was usually uncomfortable in a doctor's waiting room, but today it was worse. Perhaps it was for the best that her usual gynaecologist was away at a conference. It would have been worse to explain her situation to poor...
Tilda's brow furrowed. “You mean it’s psychological?” “Only a part of it. We need to kickstart your body into sending the few messages it still can send to your brain, and we must convince your brain to accept them.” “So, what next?” “Well, the KY was a s...
Worn out from the eventful day, Tilda’s sleep was deep and dreamless initially, but it changed when she entered her REM phase. The probes inside her continuously transmitted information to the monitors. Of course, the computer could not give her an erotic...
By the time Tilda entered the dining room breakfast was nearly over. A table had already been set out for her with rolls, croissants, fresh coffee, orange juice, butter, jam, and some cheese. She had taken the iPad with her for a little breakfast read. As...
When Mark wheeled her back into her room, she wondered for a split second what kind of a kafuffle she had gotten herself into. Patricia had turned the bed into a mixture of a hospital bed and a gynaecological chair. On the bedside table, an array of elect...
