<hr/><div align="center"><em>Autolycus continues to pleasure the Pict<br/>Infirmary</em></div><hr/><br/>His penis was a painful, throbbing ache now and it begged him to do something, anything, to relieve the pressure but Autolycus did not give in. He was already passing quite a few personal limits  today and he would not pass that one final limit. He would not enter her against her will, would not violate her. For that was what it would be. Though her reactions made it seem different the medicus was all-too aware that it was the drugs, that strange concoction he’d made her drink, that were making her so aroused, that made her forget who she was, were she was, and with whom…<br/><br/>Pleasuring her though, that seemed somehow less wrong. A kindness, almost.<br/><br/>He dropped the sponge, slicked his fingers through the warm, sticky moisture between her legs and continued to massage her sex with his now-lubricated fingers. When she freed her hand he froze, startled. Was she waking up?<br/><br/>He waited, anxious to see what she’d do.