20 years ago
The sound of rain pounding against the windowpane only added to Philip's thrill as he delved deeper into the pages of his new superhero comic. He eagerly turned the page, his eyes glued to the thrilling action unfolding before him. He had always been drawn to the escapism of superhero stories, the thrill of following the adventures of larger-than-life characters who could do the impossible. And this comic was one of his favorites, with its captivating plot and dynamic artwork.
At only ten years old, Philip was a brilliant and precocious boy, excelling in every subject except for gym. His parents sometimes worried that his intelligence might be hindering his social skills, as Philip often preferred to keep to himself rather than interact with others. But Philip didn't mind, as he found solace in the adventures of his beloved superhero comics. As the storm raged on outside, he lost himself in the pages, completely immersed in the fantastical world within.
As he reached the final battle, Philip's heart raced with excitement. The villain was unleashing their full power, determined to destroy the hero and conquer the world. But the hero was not one to be underestimated, and they fought back with all their might, using their unique abilities to turn the tide of the battle.
Philip held his breath as the two forces clashed, the tension almost tangible in the air. Who would emerge victorious? He couldn't wait to find out.
As Philip reached the end of his new superhero comic, he was shocked to discover that the villain had triumphed. He frantically flipped through the pages, searching for any sign that the hero would emerge victorious in the end, but there was nothing left. This was a feeling Philip had never experienced before - a sense of confusion and fear that left him feeling uncertain and uneasy.
While Philip had always loved these comics for the way they made him feel powerful and invigorated, this new story had left him feeling something entirely different. He couldn't deny the thrill he had experienced as he watched the villain triumph, and he couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps he had enjoyed it just a little too much. As he lay in bed, the storm raging outside, Philip couldn't help but wonder what this newfound emotion meant for him.
Maybe it was because the villainous character was just so much more tantalizing than the predictable hero. He was always causing chaos and excitement, while the hero remained stagnant with his one-dimensional motivations. Or perhaps it was because Philip identified with the bad guy on a deeper level. He had always felt like an outcast, like he didn't belong with the rest of society. The villain was often alone as well, and Philip understood that loneliness all too well. The hero, on the other hand, always had a plethora of friends; Philip had none.
Regardless of the reasoning, Philip couldn't shake the comic from his mind. He tossed and turned in bed, overcome with restlessness as he replayed the scene in his head repeatedly. He was so absorbed in his fantasies that he didn't even hear his mother enter the room until she was standing right in front of him.
"Philip, it's past midnight," his mother said softly, her voice laced with concern. "What are you still doing up?"
Philip sat up in bed, the comic clutched tightly in his hands. "I just couldn't put this comic down, Mom," he said, his voice trembling with excitement and fear. "It's like nothing I've ever read before. The villain... he won. I don't know what to think about it."
His mother sat down on the edge of the bed and took the comic from Philip's hands, flipping through the pages. "I see what you mean," she said, her brow furrowed in thought. "It's definitely different, but that doesn't mean it's not worth reading. Sometimes it's good to challenge the way we think and consider different perspectives. It's important to be open-minded, you know."
Philip nodded, his mind racing with all the new ideas and emotions the comic had stirred up in him. "You're right, Mom," he said, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.
His mother smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "That's my boy," she said, tucking him back in. "Now get some rest. And remember, it’s not real."
"I know," Philip replied, though he couldn't shake the feeling that the villain he had encountered was more than just a figment of his imagination. The man had seemed so real, so commanding and confident. He embodied everything that Philip longed to be - a powerful outsider who had proven that he could succeed despite the odds.
"Just close your eyes and think of something happy," his mother whispered, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. But as he closed his eyes, Philip found himself drifting into a fantasy world where he was the one in control. He soared through the air, fists clenched and ready to bring down any obstacle that stood in his way. He was a ruthless supervillain, feared and revered by all who encountered him. He fell into a deep sleep with a satisfied smile on his lips, lost in a world where he was the ultimate master of his own destiny.
At the age of fifteen, Philip's love of comic books had blossomed into a full-blown obsession. He had always been teased mercilessly for his interests, and as he grew older, the teasing only seemed to get worse. He was an easy target for bullies, being an introverted, socially awkward boy who often struggled to understand the complexities of social interactions. He had learned to keep to himself and avoid drawing attention to himself in order to escape the constant mockery and cruelty of his peers.
The comics were his only refuge, a place where he could lose himself in fantastical worlds and escape the harsh realities of his own life. In the pages of his favorite stories, Philip was able to imagine himself as someone else - someone powerful and respected, with abilities that made him feared and untouchable. He often dreamed of becoming one of the villains in his comics, not because he saw them as evil, but because he longed for a sense of fairness and justice.
Phillip spent most of his days sequestered in his room, lost in the pages of his beloved comics. Over the years, he had amassed a vast collection of his favorite titles, each one carefully chosen and treasured. Though the heroes often triumphed in their battles, Phillip made a point of seeking out and purchasing every single comic in which the villains emerged victorious. For him, these were the most precious of his collection - tales of rebellion and defiance, where the outsiders and underdogs rose up to challenge the status quo.
In these stories, the villains were free to do as they pleased, unencumbered by the judgment of society. They held onto their power and their freedom, answering to no one but themselves. It was this freedom that Phillip craved - the ability to live his life on his own terms, without the constant fear of being bullied or ostracized. He wanted to be able to embrace his true self, to live and love freely, without worrying about the opinions of others.
Philip had always been a gentle soul, but lately he had developed a disturbing fascination with crushing insects. He kept this secret from everyone, even his own parents, reveling in the sense of power and control it gave him. These tiny, helpless creatures were nothing to him - mere toys to be played with and discarded at his whim.
He delighted in their imagined screams of terror and pain, relishing the feeling of superiority it gave him. They were weak and insignificant, while he was strong and in control. He laughed as he imagined them pleading for mercy, but he had no intention of granting it. They deserved to suffer for their weakness, just as Philip had suffered at the hands of his tormentors. He would make them pay for their inferiority, crushing them beneath his powerful, uncaring hands.
It was at the age of 16 that Philip first became captivated by the exaggerated, voluptuous bodies of the women in his comic books. These depictions, unlike any he had seen in real life, sparked a fierce lust within him. He would spend hours lost in fantasies of exploring the curves of these women, his hands wandering eagerly over his own body as he imagined the pleasure of being with them. Thinking about it; touching them, even kissing them, was enough to send shivers down his spine. He couldn't get enough, constantly seeking out new sources of arousal as he delved deeper into this newfound world of pleasure. The comic book women became his first true object of desire.
His fascination with the comic book women only grew as he began to collect pictures of them, tearing them out of the pages and carefully organizing them in a binder. He would spend hours gazing at their images, dreaming of the chance to be with them. These women, with their perfectly styled hair, toned and gorgeous bodies, and revealing attire that always fit them flawlessly, seemed unattainably perfect to him. They were always depicted in action, their impossibly full breasts bouncing tantalizingly as they moved. He committed every line and curve of their bodies to memory, knowing them better than anything else in the world.
As he aged, his obsession only intensified, driving him to search for increasingly explicit and pornographic images and fan fiction featuring these fantasy women. He tried to appreciate real women as well, but inevitably found them lacking in comparison to the perfect, unattainable figures in his mind. The differences between the two were striking, almost comical - real women seemed too soft, too round, lacking the perfect proportions and allure of the comic book ladies. Even the most attractive girls in his school paled in comparison, their dull, mundane bodies unable to hold a candle to the fantasy women that consumed his every thought. It was enough to make his head spin with frustration.
As the first light of the morning sun crept into the room, 20-year-old Philip stirred from his slumber, still lost in the vivid dream that had left him breathless and aching for more. In his dream, he was helpless beneath the weight of a powerful Amazonian goddess, her towering height and bulging muscles making him feel small and submissive.
Her voluptuous curves pressed against him, her lips claiming his hungrily as she explored every inch of his body with her skilled hands. The mere thought of her made his heart race and his body ache with longing. Her perfect proportions and insatiable hunger for subjugating her weaker prey left Philip feeling completely powerless, and yet he craved it all the same.
As she leaned in closer, her fingers tracing over the waistband of his pants, Philip could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He knew she was considering all the wicked and depraved things she could do to him next, and he was powerless to stop her.
Their eyes locked in a fiery gaze, and in that moment, Philip knew that he was completely and utterly under her spell. Every inch of him yearned to be dominated by this goddess, to feel the rush of powerlessness and the dizzying ecstasy that came with it.
Philip woke up with a jolt, his heart pounding in his chest and his underwear uncomfortably tight. It took him a moment to catch his breath and remind himself that it was just a dream, but even as he tried to shake off the remnants of his subconscious desires, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.
Philip's eyes glimmered as he gazed at the glossy pages of his comic book collection, his fingers tracing the curves of the exaggerated female figures with a longing that he couldn't ignore. For a long time, he'd had an insatiable hunger for dominant women, and these fictional vixens with their impossible proportions and unshakeable confidence were the ultimate aphrodisiac to him. They were the embodiment of everything he craved - power, control, and the unapologetic ability to take what they wanted.
As he lost himself in his fantasies, he could practically feel their strong hands gripping him, their curves pressed against him, and their seductive whispers in his ear. These women knew what they wanted and how to get it, and he was powerless to resist their charms. They were the perfect embodiment of dominance, and he wanted nothing more than to submit to their every desire.
Philip's obsession had practically taken over his life, leaving him lost in a haze of desire and longing. He wanted nothing more than to be controlled by these women, to be used and abused for their pleasure. For him, they were the epitome of perfection, the ultimate fantasy that he would do anything to make a reality.
Philip couldn't help but daydream about being pinned beneath one of these powerful, dominant women, powerless to resist as they had their way with him. He imagined their lips pressed firmly against his, their hands roaming his body as they explored every inch of him, igniting a fire within him that burned with desire. He could feel their strength and authority radiating from them, turning him on like nothing else as he imagined himself at their mercy, submissive and willing to do whatever they commanded. These fantasies consumed him, and he found himself revisiting them multiple times a day, his hand moving faster and faster as he pleasured himself to the thought of being used and dominated by these women who cared only for their own pleasure.
Despite his deepest desires, Philip knew that his fantasies of being dominated by a strong, confident woman were nothing more than that - fantasies. He was too shy and awkward to ever hope to attract a woman like that, and unfortunately, they didn't seem to exist in the real world.
But even as he resigned himself to the fact that his desires would always remain unfulfilled, he couldn't shake the hope that one day, somehow, he would be able to experience it for himself. He longed to be at the mercy of a beautiful, powerful woman who would take everything she wanted from him, to finally know what it felt like to be completely and utterly under someone's control. It was in that moment that he made a decision - no matter how small the chance, he needed to be ready. He needed to become someone worthy of a superwoman's attention, someone who could stand up to her strength and dominance. And with that motivation driving him, he set out to turn himself into someone deserving.
Obsessed with becoming worthy of a superwoman’s attention, he channeled his dedication into a rigorous fitness regime that transformed his previously scrawny frame into a muscular powerhouse. Not content with mere physical prowess, he poured himself into his studies at a top-rated college, specializing in human psychology to comprehend the intricacies of human behavior and better understand what makes people tick. His attention to detail was unparalleled as he absorbed every nuance of body language and speech, perfecting his skills in social situations. His quest for self-improvement consumed him, as he honed his conversational skills and refined his overall people skills, all with the goal of becoming the perfect partner for his beloved superwoman. Philip's unwavering commitment to his idealized self was an obsession that consumed him, driving him ever closer to the pinnacle of human potential.
As he worked towards his goal, Philip couldn't shake the allure of those comic book women, his fantasies of touching their soft skin and feeling their curves against his own body driving him forward. He longed to bring these women to life, to make them real, and the thought of finally meeting a woman like that was enough to keep him going, to push him to be the best that he could be. And one day, he was certain, all of his hard work would pay off. He would find the woman of his dreams, and she would be everything he ever wanted.
As Philip trudged through his college years, he developed an insatiable fascination with the macabre machinations of the human psyche. The lack of empathy or remorse that some individuals possessed drew him in, for he saw them as raw, unfiltered versions of themselves. These people were the purest expression of humanity's darker impulses, freed from the constraints of societal norms. When he learned in one of his classes that he exhibited all the traits of a sociopath, Philip was relieved. The diagnosis simplified many aspects of his life and gave him a sense of purpose.
One day in class, Philip laid eyes on Caroline, a girl widely admired for her beauty by her peers. He saw in her the perfect opportunity to study human behavior and motivations, to delve deeper into the psyche of an average, inferior mind. He was not drawn to her in a conventional sense, but rather saw her as a suitable guinea pig in his twisted experiment. The idea of breaking her down and manipulating her thoughts thrilled him, and he couldn't resist the challenge. He wanted to understand human behavior and motivation in a way that only intimate relationships could provide, and with her as his unwitting subject, Philip could finally unlock the secrets of the human mind, one twisted thought at a time.
He dated Caroline for a while, and after graduation, he married her. As he stood at the altar, gazing upon his beautiful bride, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dissatisfaction. Caroline was everything that society deemed perfect, but to him, she was simply average. Although he was content to live a normal life with her, he couldn't shake off the feeling that there was someone out there who was more perverted and voluptuous, someone who would be worthy of his worship.
He started obsessing over finding his perfect match, someone who would satisfy his deepest, darkest desires. His thoughts became all-consuming, and his once-loving relationship with Caroline began to sour. He became distant, irritable, and cold towards her, all the while fantasizing about the perfect woman who would fulfill his twisted desires. He was patient, waiting for the right opportunity to present itself, and determined to find the woman of his dreams, no matter what the cost.
As time went on, his obsession grew stronger, and he became willing to do whatever it took to find his perfect match. The line between reality and his twisted fantasies began to blur, and he found himself slipping into a dark abyss of depravity. His search for the perfect woman became an all-consuming passion, driving him to the brink of insanity. In his twisted psyche, Caroline was nothing but an impediment to his pursuit of the perfect woman. He longed to discard her, to erase her from his life, and to find a mate who would satisfy his insatiable desires.
Despite his fervent yearning to find the perfect partner, Philip ended up having a child with Caroline. He put on a façade of love and devotion for his daughter, but it was all a charade. He felt like an impostor in his own life, unable to connect with his own flesh and blood. He knew he was supposed to cherish and nurture his daughter, but he found himself unable to summon any genuine affection for her.
Philip struggled to mask his contempt for his daughter, pretending to be a devoted father while feeling like a fraud. He put on an act, showering her with false love and attention, all the while secretly bored and disinterested. Despite his best efforts, he found it impossible to form a genuine connection with his child, leaving him feeling even more isolated and alone in his own life.
His eyes would glaze over as Caroline lay beneath him, her soft moans falling on deaf ears. He couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment every time he looked at her. She was meek, unremarkable, and lacked the curves that truly excited him. Her attempts to please him were futile; he was lost in a world of his own. Every time she undressed, he closed his eyes and let his imagination run wild with images of voluptuous women with generous hips and breasts that spilled out of their bras. He knew he could never have them, but that didn't stop him from lusting after them in his mind.
Caroline, oblivious to his disinterest, continued to cling to him, her body yearning for his touch. But his mind was elsewhere, and he could never fully immerse himself in the act with her. His gaze was empty, his movements mechanical. He was a slave to his own desires, unable to connect with Caroline on any meaningful level.
As their intimacy dwindled, Caroline's anxiety grew. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that there was a secret he was keeping from her. But even as she looked into his cold, dead eyes, she never realized the truth: that she could never satisfy him, that he was a monster, driven by his own insatiable cravings, and that she was nothing more than a means to an end.
In Philip's mind, a sultry temptress fixated on him with a primal hunger in her eyes, her lips curving into a sly smile. Suddenly, she lunged towards him and pressed her mouth onto his neck, kissing and nipping him with a fierce hunger that sent shivers down his spine. She desired him more than anything, and she would stop at nothing to satisfy her craving. Prowling towards him with the lithe grace of a lioness, her exquisite figure entrancing him, she closed the distance between them, her gaze locked onto his. As Philip drew closer, his heart pounding with anticipation, his manhood grew painfully erect, straining against the fabric of his shorts. When she was close enough, she seized him, digging her sharp nails into his flesh as she pulled him in close, her mouth hot and wet as it claimed his own.
"You've kept me waiting for too long, Philip," she growled seductively, her voice laced with honey and sex. With ferocity, she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips against his, her tongue exploring every inch of his mouth with expertise, eliciting moans of pleasure from his throat. His hands clutched at her hair, pulling her closer as she devoured him, her lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to drive him wild. She released him, and he looked at her, dazed and gasping for air. "From now on, you belong to me," she whispered, her voice husky and commanding, sending shivers down his spine.
She drew back, savoring the taste of Philip's lips on hers, leaving him aching for more. "Follow me," she commanded, her voice dripping with desire as she claimed his mouth once more. Her kiss was fiercer this time, her fingers gripping his hair to hold him captive as she invaded his mouth with her tongue. As they broke apart, their breathing ragged, their hunger for each other intensified.
Grasping his hand firmly, she led him towards the bedroom, her hips swaying temptingly as she walked. Philip's heart pounded in his chest as he realized what was about to happen. He was going to be dominated by this goddess of lust, and he couldn't wait to experience the full extent of her power. He knew that he was at her mercy, and he reveled in the thought of being completely and utterly controlled by her.
She threw him onto the bed and climbed on top of him, her eyes burning into his as she took control. "You're going to be my fucktoy," she purred, her voice low and husky with desire. "And I'm going to make you love every minute of it."
Her body radiated with a primal energy that ignited his senses, and he could feel himself hardening under her touch. She knew exactly how to control him, to make him beg for more, and she reveled in the power she held over him. Without warning, she descended upon him, enveloping him in a whirlwind of ecstasy as she rode him with a fierce intensity, each thrust driving him wild with pleasure.
He surrendered himself to her completely, his body a slave to her desires, as she took him deeper and deeper into the depths of her passion. Her every movement was a work of art, a symphony of sinuous curves and graceful arches that left him gasping for breath. And as they moved together in a feverish dance of lust, he knew that he was powerless to resist her.
She leaned down, her enormous breasts pressing against his chest as she seized his lips in a lustful, intense kiss. Their bodies moved in perfect unison as they lost themselves in each other's embrace. Philip couldn't resist any longer; the sensation was too extraordinary as her slick, tight cunt swallowed his entire length, her ecstatic moans driving him wild. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, her hips plunging down on him with an insatiable hunger that ignited a fiery lust deep within his core.
She rode him harder and faster, the insatiable desire for release growing inside him until it was a searing inferno. Her screams of pleasure reached a fevered pitch as she approached her climax, driving him to the brink and making him unleash himself inside her, their bodies shuddering in ecstasy as they both reached the ultimate climax of pleasure.
"That was good, sweetie," Caroline said with a kind voice, bringing Philip back to reality from his fantasy. As always, he felt a twinge of disappointment as he returned to his mundane reality, but he expertly hid it behind a smile. Every day, his hope of one day meeting the woman he was destined for seemed to fade a little bit more, but he still held onto it, waiting patiently for the day when he would finally be able to meet someone truly special. He knew that she was out there somewhere, and he was determined to find her, no matter how long it took.
Day 90 - the present
Lily's pulse pounded in her ears as she sauntered out of Mr. Wilkinson's office, aware that all eyes in the hallway were glued to her. The sexual tension was palpable, a sultry heat suffusing the air and making her skin prickle with awareness. She could feel the envious gazes and lustful stares of her peers, and it gave her a thrill to know that she was the object of their desire. It was a heady feeling, taking Olivia's place at the top of the social hierarchy. She couldn't resist the urge to sway her hips seductively as she walked, a sly smile spreading across her lips.
Despite the thrill of her illicit tryst with the teacher, Lily knew that there would be consequences for her actions. Mike was surely worried about her after she failed to return home the previous night. She knew he would understand that she had been kidnapped, but she wasn't sure he would be so understanding about the things she had done with Mr. Wilkinson in order to maintain her good grades. She decided to go to him now, knowing that his Friday schedule usually ended early. Despite the guilt that gnawed at her, Lily couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration at the memory of her encounter with the older teacher.
Lily let herself into Mike’s apartment, feeling more and more at home with her loving boyfriend. She decided not to exude any pheromones except her natural ones, as she didn’t want their relationship to be tainted by such manipulative means.
But as she entered the living room, Lily was met with a sight that filled her heart with dread. Mike sat on the couch, his face etched with fear as he watched the TV. And when he saw Lily, his fear only seemed to deepen. Lily followed his gaze to the television, and her heart sank as she saw a video of herself - of Ivy - killing a man with a single, casual snap of his neck. It was clear now why her ropes had been so easy to break free from. The man had orchestrated everything, planning for his own death and using this as his final gambit.
"L-Lily, is that really you?" Mike asked, his voice shaking with fear. Lily knew she couldn't keep lying to Mike, and so she swallowed hard before answering.
"I can explain," she said, her own voice trembling. "That man kidnapped me. He threatened to hurt everyone I cared about - you, Lisa, even my mom! He knew who I was!"
Tears filled Lily's eyes as she moved closer to Mike, still staring in horror at the television screen. The video was grainy, but there was no denying that it was Ivy on the screen. The news experts were saying that the video was not manipulated, and the only audio was of Ivy telling the man that she had no problem killing him.
"W-what have I done?" Lily whispered, her mind spinning with shock and disbelief.
"We have to go to the police," Mike said, standing up from the couch. "You need to tell them everything, turn yourself in."
But Lily was shaking her head frantically. "I can't," she said, her voice filled with panic. "I can't go to jail. I can't let them lock me up. They don't even know who I really am, just that I go by the name Ivy!"
"Lily, are you listening to yourself?" Mike pleaded, trying to make her see reason. "You can't just run away from this. You have to take responsibility for your actions. You can't go around killing people just because they threatened you, and not even on my behalf!"
"No," Lily said again, her voice growing louder. "I won't go to prison! I won't let them put me in a cell or treat me like a lab rat. I'd rather die than be locked up like an animal."
Tears streamed down her face as she threw herself into Mike's arms, seeking comfort. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually wrapped his arms around her. "That man... He was a monster," Lily said through her sobs. Mike could understand the impossible situation she had been put in, but as he watched the video and heard her voice, he couldn't shake the feeling that it had all seemed a little too easy for her.
As the news anchors began warning people that Incredible Ivy could potentially be dangerous, Lily knew she needed to lay low for a while. She also had an appointment with the family therapist that her mom had set up for her, the same one they’d gone to after Lily’s father passed away. Lily knew the therapist was good, but she only planned to go for her mother's sake. She didn't really need therapy and would just spit out some fake positive responses until she could reassure her mom that everything was fine.
The waiting room exuded a sense of luxury, with every detail carefully chosen and impeccably maintained. Lily sat nervously, fidgeting with her hands as she took in her surroundings. The plush furniture in calming colors was a stark contrast to her current emotional turmoil. Lily found herself feeling surprised that her therapist worked in such a high-end office. It made sense, though, that her mom wouldn't settle for a cheap option when it came to grieving the loss of her husband and Lily's father.
Lily stepped into the office, taken aback by the sight of the receptionist's prominently displayed fake breasts. The woman greeted her with a friendly smile and informed her that Dr. Kingsford was ready to see her.
Confused, Lily spoke up, "Dr. Kingsford? That's not my therapist. I think there's been a mistake."
The receptionist looked genuinely apologetic and replied, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Your regular therapist had to cancel at the last minute, but it's your lucky day. Dr. Kingsford had an opening in his schedule and agreed to take your session for today. If you decide to come back for more sessions, you'll see your regular therapist."
Lily's annoyance prickled slightly at the last-minute change, as she had prepared herself to see her regular therapist and had planned out how to handle the session. However, there was nothing she could do about it now. As she was escorted to Kingsford's office, she couldn't help but notice the opulent and soothing decor. The name Kingsford was etched on the building, so it made sense that the owner's therapy room would be a luxurious affair.
Lily turned to face Dr. Kingsford, taken aback by his youthful appearance. Unlike her regular therapist, he couldn't have been much older than thirty. She marveled at the fact that he had already established his own exclusive practice at such a young age. As she took in his appearance, she couldn't help but notice how attractive he was, in a rugged sort of way. Rising to his feet, Dr. Kingsford extended his hand in greeting, causing Lily's heart to flutter.
"Hello, Lily," Dr. Kingsford said warmly, his hand engulfing hers in a firm yet friendly handshake. "It's a true pleasure to meet you."
Lily couldn't help but feel a slight blush spread across her cheeks as she returned his handshake. "Hi, Dr. Kingsford," she managed to reply.
Dr. Kingsford's eyes crinkled warmly as he smiled, his handsome face making Lily's heart race. "Oh, please," he said. "Call me Philip."
