I was in pain. I'd been having pains for several months. At first they were minor, just twinges that came and went but, as time went on, they became worse and worse and lasted longer and longer. The pain was always in the same place, just under my abdomen. I'd tried aspirin and paracetamol and ibuprofen but nothing seemed to work. Now there was hardly a day went by that I didn't have the pain at some point.

That day I'd gone to work as usual. I work in a small solicitor's office. There's just me and Mr Benson, the solicitor, and Mrs Allinson, his clerk. Mr Benson is very nice. He's an older gentleman and doesn't have as many clients as he once did but I enjoy working there. I've worked for him for four years now. I was lucky to find this position when I left the convent. I'm and orphan and was brought up by the nuns of St Martin and St Mary. They were good to me. I was happy there and sorry to leave but I was eighteen and they couldn't look after me any more.

As I was saying, I went to work that day but found it difficult to concentrate. The pain kept coming and going getting worse and worse each time. I left promptly at five and managed to make it back to my little flat. I didn't feel like eating so I just made a cup of tea and curled up in the armchair with my book. I was reading 'The Haunted Train'. I like ghost stories but this one was very strange. The ghosts didn't just frighten people, they did all sorts of nasty and depraved things to them and made the people do them to each other. Just reading about them gave me strange little shivers. I tried to read but the pain made it difficult to concentrate.

It must have been about half past seven when the pain became so intense I knew I had to do something. I thought about going to the A&E Department at the local hospital but couldn't face the thought of all the drunks and drug addicts and criminals that are always there. Then I remembered someone mentioning a doctor who would see people out of hours. He was expensive but very good, I had been assured. I dug in my handbag and found his number. His name was Dr Byron Mohle.

My hands were shaking as I dialled his number. A deep, calm voice answered. I explained my problem. He said it sounded serious and asked if I could come immediately. He wasn't at his surgery but would be happy to see me at home. I was so relieved, I agreed. Somehow I made it in one piece.

A tall, distinguished man with dark hair opened the door. He took one look at me and immediately put his arms round my shoulders and led me to his study. His arm felt strong and comforting. He sat me in a deep leather chair and took a seat opposite.

"Now, what seems to be the problem." His voice was deep and rich and comforting.

He smiled and I knew I'd done the right thing. He seemed so calm and confident and trustworthy.

"I have a pain. A terrible pain," I said.

"Mmm. How long have you had this pain?"

"Several months. It wasn't bad at first but it's been getting worse and worse."

"Is it there all the time or does it come and go?"

"Mostly it comes and goes but, today, it never fully went away and, when it came back, it was worse than before."

His eyes were sympathetic.

"I see. And where is this pain?"

I gestured at my lower body. "Down there."

He nodded and smiled again.

"I shall have to examine you. Slip off your jacket and skirt and undo the top buttons of your blouse, please."

I looked around for somewhere to undress, a behind screen or something, but there was nowhere. Dr Mohle was busy at his desk so I decided I had no choice but to strip off where I was. My hands were trembling as I took off my jacket and skirt, laid them on a nearby chair and undid my blouse. I'd never undressed before anyone before. The doctor looked up and smiled.

"You have a good taste in underwear," he said. "Sit back down. The chair reclines so don't panic."

I blushed. I had been well brought up by the nuns and my panties were proper ones, not the skimpy things you see in so many shops these days. They were quite tight, though. I wear a tailored suit to work and loose panties look unsightly and feel uncomfortable. I also like pretty underwear. The set I had on was pale blue and decorated with lace.

I sat down. He did something to the chair which made the back sink and the seat rise until I ended up reclining almost flat. It was very embarrassing, yet strangely exciting to be lying in the doctor's chair clad only in my blouse and underwear.

He lifted my wrist and took my pulse. His fingers were warm and strong, yet gentle. I could feel my pulse speed up. He released my wrist without comment and touched my face. His fingers seemed to drift over it as he put his thumb over my eyelid and raised it. His touch was so gentle I began to tremble. He peered into both eyes and smiled. I felt myself relax. I knew I could trust him to do whatever was right for me. The feeling made feel warm and tingly inside. He picked up his stethoscope and placed the end against my chest. It was cold and I squeaked.

"Sorry," he said. "Deep breath."

He took quite a lot of sounding all over my chest, which involved a lot of deep breathing, before he was satisfied.

"Everything seems to be in order there," he said in his deep, calm voice. "Lift the bottom of your blouse, please."

I blushed as I pulled my blouse up. No other person had seen as much of me as him. But he was a doctor and I knew I could trust him.

His fingers touched my ribs.

"I'm going to press gently at various places," he said gently. "Tell me if it hurts."

He pressed his fingers against my skin. His touch sent little shivers up and down my spine and the pain was now affecting my nipples. I decided not to mention it. I didn't want him to see my breasts. He pressed along my ribs then moved slowly down. His fingers were over the top of my panties and in the middle of my abdomen when I said.

"That's it. That's the place."

"Here?" He pressed again.

"Yes."

"Not here?" He pressed to the right.

"No."

"Or here?" He pressed to the left.

"No."

"Or here?" He pressed below.

"Yes. There too."

"Uh, huh. Are you a virgin?"

I blushed deep red. What a question.

"I'm a doctor," he said commandingly. "I need to ask these sorts of questions if I'm to find out what's causing your pain."

I nodded, still blushing.

"I assume your nod means you are."

I nodded again.

"Do you masturbate much?"

Now he was going too far. Masturbation was a sin. Everybody knew that. A little frown appeared on his face.

"I take it, from your reaction, that you don't masturbate."

I found my voice. "Of course not."

"Have you ever masturbated?"

"No, certainly not."

He said nothing, just nodded. I was relieved. Just thinking about it gave me funny shivers inside. He straightened and smiled again.

"I'm going to have to examine you more thoroughly," he said. "I'll need to remove your pretty panties."

"Oh," I gasped.

A strange tremor ran through me and the pain in my nipples got worse. The pain inside me got worse, too. I decided I would have to let him do what he wanted. I couldn't live with the pain any longer. Besides, he was a doctor and I trusted him.

He knelt in front of me and put his hands on my knees. I should have objected but his touch was so gentle. His hands slipped slowly up my thighs. A vision of angel wings flitted through my brain. But angel wings wouldn't have caused me to tremble and sigh. His fingers reached the waistband and hooked inside it. Very slowly, he pulled my panties down. Without being fully aware of it I raised my hips to let him ease them over my bottom. My eyes were closed and I knew I was bright red. He was about to see my secret place, something that no-one had done since I was a baby. Even I didn't like looking at it. It was big and fleshy and rounded, not like the few I'd seen on other girls.