TRACY RANSOM
Come with us now on a hilarious late-night romp through the E.R. at a very wacked-out hospital.
A shy and submissive young woman wakes in pain and must place herself in the hands of her emergency room. No one tells her, some staff there need psychiatric attention. Or maybe jail.
She is poked, drugged, prodded, peeped, and anal-scoped. For starters. The obedient young woman runs out of patience at the bizarre solutions for her medical dilemma, but a full winter moon and an IV full of Demerol weigh against her and her young hormones steam out of control.
CONTENT WARNING
Themes of submission and subjugation, spanking sex, diaper play, humiliation, and non-private accidental genital stimulation.
Sorry, Rachelle.
CHAPTER 1 - HER HUMILIATING EXAM
Rachelle Williams drives her small open car through a soft Hawaiian night, heading up the H1 to the big hospital on Moanalua. She hunches over the steering wheel in pain. Pain in her tummy woke her after midnight. For a while it was not too bad, she'd lain there in the pool of moonlight across her bed, listening to the Koolau night sounds outside her bedroom and wondering what she could have eaten that made her sick. After sleeping fitfully for another hour, all she could think of were caring hands in the hospital emergency room. And the drugs.
Teeth clenched with pain, she watches her GPS for the turn. The long Tee she likes to sleep in covers her pink short-shorts. Her sun-bleached hair is a loose halo around her strained features.
She slides into an ER Patients Only space and hurries inside. The lobby is quiet, a few people hunch together waiting for their caregivers to appear.
"Severe abdominal pain," Rachelle tells the medical receptionist, handing over her ID cards. "Don't know of anything I ate that could cause it."
The receptionist checks her in and makes a call. "Just have a seat in booth three. A nurse will see you right away."
Rachelle finds the semi-private cubicle and sits. A surge of nausea hits her. What is it? She leans forward, arms around her belly. A large man in wrinkled scrubs takes the chair opposite and logs into the desk station. His voice is smooth and soft.
"Miss Williams, I am Johan. Can you tell me what is troubling you?"
Doubled over, Rachelle looks up at him. "Severe stomach cramps. Started three hours ago. Can't think of anything to cause it. Oww."
"Miss, your face is pale. We'll get you to a bed right away. Let me take your temperature." Rachelle accepts the small device inside her ear. It quickly beeps, the nurse makes notations on the computer.
"You have a degree and a half of fever. Come with me, I'll get Doctor Chen to look at you."
The man leads Rachelle through an automatic double door and through a long row of curtained exam cubicles, shiny linoleum under bright lights. A few are occupied, privacy curtains closed, hushed conversations from within. Johan leads Rachelle into a cubicle and closes the drapes around the bed. The metal rings make a melodic swish on the aluminum rod.
"Please take everything off and get under the sheet. Use the plastic bags for your things. Put on this green gown, it ties at the neck. If you're cold, ask for a blanket. The bathroom is to your left."
Johan leaves, the privacy drape slides closed. Rachelle watches his departing feet beneath the hem as he walks away. Sounds of two nurses at the duty station several beds away, others coming and going on the busy ward.
With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Rachelle places her purse in the bedside stand, kicks off her rubber thongs.
Holding the open-back gown before her, she works out how to keep her exposure to a minimum while putting it on. Rachelle has a mistrust of hospitals, of being seen in a bed, wearing a humiliating open-back gown. People just walk in whenever it suits them. On an ER visit when she was nine years old, she'd felt like just a thing to them.
She pulls the Tee over her head, her nipples harden in the cool air. Rachelle trembles. Quickly she ties the gown at her neck, slips willowy arms into the short floppy sleeves. The gown stops at mid-thigh. Most of her club skirts are longer. The green gown is completely open at the back.
Shorts and panties slide down her slim legs and she folds them into a bag with her purse. Cool hospital air raises goose-bumps on her curved fanny.
She swings her knees onto the high bed just as a matronly nurse in scrubs breezes through the drape with a pleasant smile. Rachelle is chagrined. The woman's eyes take in a flash of Rachelle's hairless crotch.
With a quick motion Rachelle covers her legs with the sheet. On the woman's green uniform top, Rachelle notices the name Reardon. The nurse uses a control to elevate the bed so Rachelle can sit comfortably.
"Blood pressure and temperature, dear," the big woman recites. She goes through the familiar motions, asks the same questions the admitting nurse had asked. But she has a different question.
"Anything pushed up from below?"
Face red, Rachelle can't even look at the big woman. "Of course not," she says tersely. Does she honestly think I'm playing with my rear end?
Rachelle has always avoided that area, is embarrassed when her boyfriends want to touch her there. And sex? Ugh. She is aware of her bare flesh beneath the stiff white sheet.
"Is the pain still present?"
"It comes and goes. Right now just an ache. Sometimes very strong."
The nurse makes notations on her tablet. "You just relax. Doctor Chen will be along. He's our best GI specialist."
"GI?"
"Gastro-intestinal."
"Mm." How very thrilling.
The nurse pushes through the privacy drape in a whisper of cloth, leaving a four-inch gap. Rachelle can see the entire row of beds and the large double door at the end. A nurse walks a patient unsteadily along the shiny floor. The old man's flabby buttocks are exposed in his open-backed gown. Rachelle shudders at the wretched image, averts her eyes. She tugs at the tucked-in sheet, attempting to draw it up past her waist.
Sharp pain rockets through her abdomen. Pressing both hands to her tummy she leans forward, unable to breathe. What is it? She gasps for air and tears form in her eyes. Her gown is open down her backside, baring her from slender neck to fleshy bottom.
The drape parts as a short man in a white lab coat eases in. He smiles cheerfully. "Hello Miss, I am Doctor Chen. We're going to see what is troubling you this morning."
Her mouth gapes open stupidly, she cannot speak.
"Are we having pain now?"
Rachelle nods, giving him the merest glance.
"Can we perhaps lie back?"
