He held me down with his weight and pure strength as he fastened the straps across my arms and abdomen, locking my upper body securely into place. He then moved to the end of the table, grinning at me as I glared at him. He seemed to find it amusing if anything. He grabbed my right leg first, forcing it into the knee crutch, glaring at me as I kicked at him.
"Do you want this exam to hurt more than it has to?" he growled, meeting my eyes. I considered the situation for a moment, thinking. Then I let my legs loosen and he strapped my right, then my left, leg into their respective holders. "That's a good girl," he said happily, reaching up and adjusting the overhead lights, shining them directly at my exposed genitals. He didn't place a drape over me, he didn't make any effort to hide what he was doing. Instead, he reached over, pulling one of the wheeled carts to him. I caught a sideway glance at some of the instruments, my breath catching. They didn't look like anything I had ever seen. In fact, of all of those metallic monstrosities, the only thing I recognized was a speculum.
He pushed my legs apart more and more until I felt my muscles start to resist. Only then did he stop. Without so much as a warning, I felt his fingers enter me. It hurt and stung, something that forced a loud gasp mixed with an "ouch" from my mouth. He moved his fingers around, stretching me as he went. "Hymen intact," he mumbled to himself, his ungloved fingers pulling from me. I could feel the heat rise in my face as he touched me in a less than delicate way, and was even more ashamed and reddened by the idea that I was becoming somewhat aroused. Immediately, I felt a cold speculum enter me less than gently, making me attempt to squeeze my legs together futilely.
"Hmm," he said curiously. "You seem to be lubricating." He peered inside me as he said that, my shame and embarrassment growing as he did. "Vaginal vault appears in perfect condition. No noticeable abnormalities." He pulled the speculum from me without closing it, causing me to wince even more than I already was. "Now, Jessica, as you can tell, you're not well." He reached over, picking up a cylindrical instrument that resembled a large bullet. "But we're going to fix that. I promise. This is my specialty and I assure you that you're in the best of hands."
I started to speak again as I felt him push the less than small instrument inside me, resting it against my g-spot. He moved it in an out several times, making my already abundant juices squish and flow around it. "Don't worry, dear. I'll only use the smallest of tools. I promise. We want you intact for your wedding night after all."
My head was spinning as he pushed it in again, this time forcefully resting it against that certain wonderful spot. Then he began moving it up and down, caressing that area forcefully, erotically. I could feel excitement build more and more inside me, nearing an orgasm. Suddenly, he stopped, pulling the tool from me. He pushed his fingers inside me, feeling the moisture.
"Excellent response dear. Excellent." He placed the probe back inside me, leaving it stationary. He then stood up, moving to a machine that was masked in the dark, pulling over something that resembled a hand drill. I heard a switch and buzzing noise. Fear rushed through me a moment before I felt vibrations run through my clit, causing me to release a guttural growl from my stomach. He held the machine stationary, grinning at me as he watched from between my legs. He moved the probe in and out again, soon enough bringing me to orgasm.
"That's a good girl," he said, his breath heavy as I convulsed in my stationary position. I had never felt anything even close to that amount of pleasure. "Your treatment is going to go so well."
As my first orgasm ebbed away, he didn't pull the vibrator, or the dildo, from my body. They remained stationary, only the insertable moving in and out, massaging my g-spot mercilessly. Soon I was riding another wave of ecstasy, my hips jerking against their restraints. This kept on for hours it seemed. He would bring me to orgasm, always watching my face and never moving. He never even seemed to blink. He was intent on whatever treatment he was providing to me, using me as a guinea pig in some sort of deviant sexual experiment.
Finally, I was so tired I almost couldn't stay awake. The table under me was drenched in my juices, my face and chest glistening with sweat. My clit, my vagina, they were sore and throbbing, most likely raw from the physical contact and abuse.
"Doctor... It hurts. Can you stop? Please?" He stared at me, keeping the vibrator firmly placed on my clit, the little electrical impulses no longer pleasurable but painful. He seemed to check his watch, his brow tightening.
"Your treatment has only gone on 57 minutes. I doubt that is efficient, my dear." 57 minutes? Really? That's all??? He left the vibrator on for another 10 minutes at least. There was no more pleasure, no more ecstasy that he could coax out of me. Or so I thought.
He pulled the vibrator away, placing it on the table behind him. He then sat back down, leaving the inserted dildo inside me. He pulled my lips apart, staring at my clitoris and manipulating it. I'm sure he could see redness, if not swelling. "Hmm," he said under his breath. He pulled the dildo from my hole, a slopping sound accompanying its removal that made me feel even more self conscious. Almost immediately he pushed the speculum back inside me, my fluids making the entry smoother than I could have imagined. "You do seem a little inflamed." He pulled the speculum out again, the emptiness it left behind a welcome feeling. "I will let you rest after this last stage of treatment. Then I'll take you back to your room so you can rest for the night." He stood up then, his height intimidating as I saw a virtual silhouette due to the lighting of the procedure room. "You need to give me one more, Jessica. Do you understand? One more and you can sleep until morning."
I nodded, feeling my stomach tighten at the thought of what he had in store. Then his fingers went inside me, his thumb resting on my clit and massaging it roughly. I tried to focus on the pleasure, however hidden it was. I wanted to cum and cum hard so that he would leave me alone. I wanted him to feel whatever sick satisfaction he was after. So I focused on the feeling of his fingers as they moved around inside me, tapping at my cervix. It was painful, anything but erotic, but I had to find someway of enjoying it. He moved his fingers faster, his nails scraping along the walls of my passage. Slowly, slowly, I felt something build. I knew that I couldn't fake it. Not with a doctor whose fingers were embedded deep inside me. As I neared that edge, that climax, the doctor did something unexpected. He pinched my clit as hard as he could, making me scream as the orgasm rocked my body. I felt myself virtually flood his fingers, my juices pouring from between my legs.
"Good girl," he said, smiling at me a second before I passed out.
Something ran across my face, causing me to slap at it. I opened my eyes, catching two yellow eyes staring at me. I sat up, feeling my body ache as the cat hopped down. "Ouch," I muttered as I stared at my sliced up palm, seeing dirt in the wound.
"Great," I growled. At least I was up to date on my tetanus shots. The cat meowed, causing me to look his direction. He didn't run, didn't jump. "What? You finally get hungry enough to go home?" He meowed again and I stood up, wincing as I felt my knee pop. I cursed myself and the pain loudly. I looked around, just the barest amount of light shining in through the hole my butt had made on the way down.
I felt myself blush as I stared at the dusty, rusted exam table, the knee crutches still attached and long since rendered useless. It was the same procedure room, the same table. Even the vibrator rested in the tray next to the too widely stretched knee crutches. My mind was obviously more creative than I had given it credit for. My imagination, well, my unconscious imagination was far more detailed than I could have imagined.
"Well, that was one hell of a dream," I finally said to myself, bending down and picking up the troublemaking tabby. I walked towards the stairwell in the corner, having remembered seeing it in the dream and rationalizing that I had seen it earlier before falling just like everything else. But as I walked by the table, I stopped. There were fresh puddles of moisture at the end of the metal, drops falling into a larger pool on the ground. Without thinking, I reached out, touching the rusted vibrator and pulling my hand away as I felt warmth. "Yeah, I'm out of here," I said, limping faster. I cleared the steps surprisingly quick, arriving at the entrance in less than 3 minutes. And as my foot crossed the doorway, I could have sworn I heard the doctor say, "Sleep well." Oddly enough, I don't think I've ever moved so fast in my life.
