Sylvie, the Slave Girl (Lily Futa) - Chapter 41 (pt. 2)

A few days passed.

Sylvie suddenly developed a low fever.

Her health value dropped to 75.

It wasn’t entirely sudden.

These past few days, her condition hasn’t been great.

She seemed listless, speaking softly about feeling unwell.

Wei Qing’s heart softened completely.

She held her, stroking her head, thinking she shouldn’t have used those drugs, especially aphrodisiacs.

She regretted her impulsive decision.

At first, she thought it was normal muscle soreness and dehydration from overexertion.

By the third day, Sylvie’s responses grew slow when talking.

Her face flushed slightly, feeling warm.

Wei Qing began to suspect something.

She murmured, “No way.”

Another day passed. Wei Qing woke first.

She touched the forehead of the still-sleeping girl.

Her cheeks were red, her forehead slightly sweaty.

When Wei Qing’s palm touched her, the girl’s eyelashes fluttered, but she didn’t wake.

The temperature felt distinctly hot.

Wei Qing’s heart skipped a beat.

This felt like a familiar plot point.

But… she calmly got out of bed.

A fever?

She was a certified doctor from a prestigious school.

Was this clinic just for show?

The temperature wasn’t too high.

Wei Qing measured it: 37.7°C.

She hesitated, then gave her a fever-reducing pill.

She wet a towel with cold water, wrung it out, and placed it on the girl’s forehead.

Then she started aggressively giving her water.

At this level, sweating it out usually worked, along with rest and hydration.

“I don’t want to drink anymore,” Sylvie says, looking listless.

She feels like she’s being filled up like a water buffalo.

“Be good. Drinking helps you recover faster,” Wei Qing says.

“I don’t even have the strength to pee,” Sylvie says.

“I’ll carry you,” Wei Qing replies.

Wei Qing, ever practical, lifts her legs, spreading them apart like a child being held to pee.

“Wait… wait a second,” Sylvie says urgently, stopping the woman from pulling down her pants.

“What?” Wei Qing asks.

“I’ll do it myself,” Sylvie says.

This position… it’s indescribably embarrassing.

“Didn’t we do it in this position too?” Wei Qing asks, surprised.

Sylvie’s face heats up. “…It’s not the same,” she says.

Wei Qing supports her, holding her arm as they squat together.

The woman’s expression looks serious.

Her light brown eyes show some worry.

Sylvie’s face feels hotter, and she feels dizzy and uncomfortable.

“Wei Qing, I can’t pee if you’re watching me,” Sylvie says softly.

Sylvie means for her to leave.

She isn’t that sick.

For some reason, the woman seems overly concerned about this fever.

But Wei Qing clearly doesn’t get it.

She thinks for a moment, then reaches over, her hand precise, slipping between Sylvie’s legs.

Before Sylvie can protest, her fingertips part her pvssy lips, pressing on her urethra and rubbing.

Sylvie’s eyes widened; she looked at her in shock.

Wei Qing frowns back at her.

They stare at each other.

Her fingers press harder, finding a spot.

A mix of pleasure and uncontrollable urge hits.

Water gushes out, flowing along the woman’s fingers.

Heat surges from her feet to her head.

Her mind goes blank.

The sound of liquid grows louder, her peeing intensifying.