Second Visit

The week leading to my second appointment passed in something of a blur. The events of my first visit played in my head on repeat. Over and over, I recalled the sensation of restraints against my body, the humiliation of being spread open, and the calm, practiced way in which Dr Fairbridge had wrenched my orgasm from me.

Truthfully, I didn't know how to feel about it. The appointment had been the most torturous and overwhelming experience of my life. Dr Fairbridge's assessment of her handling of me as "relatively gentle" filled me with apprehension for what was to come. And yet, when I thought about all that had been done to me, I felt some of the same strange excitement I had felt on that day. I had even attempted to masturbate on several occasions, unsuccessfully of course. Without the mysterious cream they had used on me, or maybe without the overwhelming level of stimulation I had received, my body, as ever, refused to respond. And so it was with mixed feelings that I returned to the Fairbridge Clinic.

Dr Fairbridge smiled as I entered. "Good morning, Kari. It's lovely to see you again. I do hope you've had a good week." Behind her, Andreas was moving along the bank of machines, methodically flipping switches, presumably preparing them for use.

I nodded warily. "Yes... thank you, Doctor Fairbridge."

An awkward pause followed. I stood dumbly by the door, reluctant to say or do anything to set into motion my impending torment.

Dr Fairbridge broke the silence. "Kari," she said, fixing me with a level gaze. "When you come through that door, I want you to remove your clothes and climb onto the table. You can place your clothes on the rack by the door. Can you do that for me?"

"I... yes." I fumbled at my blouse with trembling hands and a sudden, panicked eagerness. Dr Fairbridge gave a chuckle.

"Relax, Kari. There's absolutely no hurry."

Relax. Was that her idea of a joke? After some more fumbling, I was finally naked. I draped my clothes over the rack and carefully walked to the examination table, back straight, eyes forward, trying my absolute hardest not to betray the nervousness that threatened to fold me in on myself.

I held the same forced composure as she and Andreas secured my limbs in position. Once again, Dr Fairbridge sat at the head end of the table, while Andreas sat between my open legs. Unlike the previous week, Dr Fairbridge decided to position the arm rests so that my arms were raised over my head, making me feel even more open and defenseless.

My composure began to crack as the two of them began to apply the stimulant cream. Familiar feelings of shame and helplessness flooded back as Dr Fairbridge and Andreas rubbed the thick substance into my breasts, clit and vaginal passage. As the tingling heat began, the sensation of their fingers flicking over my nipples and clit began to elicit those same strange feelings in me again. My breathing quickened as I worked hard to suppress a moan.

"Now Kari, you may remember that when we examined your clitoris last week, we found that it was very small and underdeveloped, just like your breasts. That's why we're going to add clitoral suction to your treatment regimen, starting from today."

I nodded silently, eyes squeezed shut as I fought to bring my breathing back under control. Without warning, Dr Fairbridge grasped my nipples between thumb and forefinger and firmly squeezed.

A strangled cry escaped my throat before I could stop it. My body tensed as I felt the strange sensation radiate from where she was touching me. It felt good, somehow. Humiliating, yes. But at the same time, a small part of me craved more. It was not a part of me that I recognized. For a fleeting moment I had the disorienting feeling of standing outside myself, looking in and finding a stranger.

"Kari, when I touch you, if you feel like you need to make a sound or move your body, I need you to allow it to happen." Dr Fairbridge continued to tug gently at my nipples. "Seeing and hearing you helps me assess your response to treatment. It's important that you don't try to stop or hide it."

My face burned red hot. The idea of shamelessly grunting and writhing before the two of them was more intensely humiliating than anything I had experienced thus far. There was no way I could allow myself to do that, I thought. However, her handling of me was starting to break me down. Small, defenseless whimpers began to emerge from me, in time with her steady, rhythmic tugging.

Once she was satisfied she had subdued my feeble effort at clinging to control, Dr Fairbridge positioned the suction cylinders on my chest. Andreas followed suit, placing a narrow glass tube over my clit. The machines hummed to life.

"We're going to use a higher suction level today," said Dr Fairbridge, turning a series of dials on the control unit. "I thought I'd start small last week to ease you in. But this is a much more effective setting for producing measurable growth."

The suction on my breasts, already intense, increased sharply to unbearable levels. Desperately, I bucked against my restraints. Looking down, I saw my normally flat breasts now impossibly elongated inside the domes as they sucked and released, sucked and released, the skin already a deep shade of pink.

"Please, it hurts!" I managed to cry between pathetic keening wails. "Please, please turn it down! Please!"

"No, Kari," said Dr Fairbridge. "This is very much for your own good. Your existing tissues must be separated for further growth to occur. The pain you're feeling is the pain of separation. It's an essential part of the expansion process. This is the setting we will be using for the rest of your treatment, so I'm afraid you'll need to get used to it."

She gave me a reassuring smile. "There's no need to be embarrassed, though. Many young women struggle at first with the sensation of having their breasts suctioned, so you're hardly the only one." I heard a drawer slide open behind my head. "Open your mouth."

I was startled to feel a cylindrical rubber object being pushed into place between my teeth. A gag. Dr Fairbridge secured the ends of the gag to each side of my headrest, immobilizing me even more than I already was.

"It's not much, but perhaps this will help you endure the pain. If nothing else, it will protect your teeth."

I clenched down against the gag as my wails turned to muffled screams. The suction on my breasts was relentless. I couldn't take any more, and yet I had no choice. I bucked and strained on the table, all pretensions of dignity long forgotten.

I don't know how long this continued, but when it finally did, I fell limp on the table, muscles aching from continuous strain. If I had looked at my breasts, I would have seen two small, puffy red mounds, still swollen from the vacuum domes, encircled by the deep, angry indentations left by their rims. But I didn't look. I lay in an exhausted daze, staring at the ceiling, mind blank. I felt no embarrassment, no hot flush of shame. I was beyond such things.

Gradually, I became aware of a steady suction on my clit, and the sensation of being stretched. I realized Andreas must have inserted the expanding plug after Dr Fairbridge increased the suction level on the breast pumps. I had been in such agony, I hadn't even noticed.

The plug inside me stretched me rhythmically. It was uncomfortable, of course, but the discomfort paled in comparison to what I had just endured. At the widest point of its cycle, it stretched my vagina just beyond what it was able to accommodate, making me painfully full. But in my altered state, I did not protest. It felt almost good.

What felt more than almost good was the glass tube steadily sucking at my clitoris. Here too the suction was intense, bordering on painful, but the pleasure it brought was undeniable. My clit felt swollen and engorged. With each hum-hiss of the vacuum, a jolt of pleasure travelled from my clit to somewhere deep inside me. I let out a low moan.

I felt Dr Fairbridge's hand on my breasts again, working more of the stimulating cream into them. Her hands felt impossibly rough on my tender, sensitized skin. I whimpered helplessly.

"Kari, I'm going to perform a deep tissue massage on your breasts while they're nice and sensitive from the vacuum pumps," she said. "This will aid in tissue recovery and increase the long-term sensitivity of your breasts and nipples." There was a pause while she reached into her drawers.

She produced two circular wooden objects with bulbous handles reminiscent of air hockey paddles. The flat surface of each paddle was studded with a concentric array of rubber nubs. She placed one on each of my breasts and began to knead.

I moaned shamelessly as she worked the textured massagers over my tender flesh. They glided smoothly, lubricated by the cream. Together, the nubs created hundreds of maddening sensations as they travelled across my skin and dragged across my swollen nipples. She worked them also along the insides of my upper arms, down my exposed armpits and the sides of my chest - to support lymphatic drainage, she said. Over and over she kneaded the stiff nubs into my sensitive chest and pits, pushing hard, paying no heed to my anguished cries. Pain and pleasure blended into one. I never wanted her to stop.

The suction tube and expanding plug continued their work, relentlessly sucking and stretching my most intimate parts. I was babbling now, my taut body racked with wave after wave of intense pleasure-pain.

"That's the way, Kari," said Dr Fairbridge approvingly. "You're doing much better now at expressing yourself. Are you ready for your orgasm?"

"Uh-huuuhh," I moaned breathlessly around the gag. Andreas raised the vibrating wand from the previous week and touched it to the tip of the suction tube. The light vibrations that reached my clit, combined with the suction, combined with the vaginal stretching, combined with Dr Fairbridge's continuing assault on my chest and nipples, tipped me over the edge almost immediately, and I screamed as I was consumed by a brutal, wrenching orgasm.

I lay limply on the table for a long while after my orgasm subsided, still shuddering with aftershocks. I did not respond as Dr Fairbridge removed the equipment and wiped me clean. Once she unfastened my restraints, I drew my limbs in and curled up on my side, my face buried in the padded surface of the headrest. She did not attempt to engage me, but busied herself around the room, tidying the the machines and setting aside instruments for sterilization.

When I finally uncurled slightly and opened my eyes, she smiled and made her way over to me. "You are making marvellous progress, Kari," she said, stroking my back. Her touch felt steady and reassuring. "I think we will see wonderful results from you."

"Nnnnn," I moaned quietly, still unable to form words. I felt different, somehow. The timid girl who had walked into the clinic a week ago felt like a distant memory. Dr Fairbridge's treatment was changing me. What would I become? I didn't know, but I knew who was in control. I knew soon it would be time to dress and go home, but for now I closed my eyes once more. Just for a moment. I fell limp once again as I let the darkness envelop me.