Modern Wicked Fairy Tales: Complete Collection

by Selena Kitt

  “It’s a game,” he explained, swiping his finger across the touch screen. “An app, actually.” He glanced at her, seeing the quizzical expression growing more confused. “An application.” He laughed. “You’ve got a Kindle, so you’re not a Luddite…how is it you have never heard of Angry Birds?”

  He turned the screen to show her three fat cartoon birds in front of an empty nest with question marks over their heads.

  “I kind of outgrew video games when I was a kid.” Rose shrugged, watching as the man used a slingshot to fling one of the birds toward a structure with round-faced green animals trapped in it. “I think the last video game I played was Space Invaders on Atari.”

  He laughed, handing the tablet to her. “Oh well here—you have to try Angry Birds.”

  “Really?” She looked doubtfully at the game.

  “Just pull back the slingshot and shoot.” He demonstrated by leaning over and using one finger to do so, flinging a fat little bird into the air.

  Rose followed his lead, getting a little thrill when the structure tumbled and a little green animal inside was obliterated, leaving a score in its wake. “Why are the birds angry?”

  “They’re mad at the pigs,” he explained.

  “Oh, those green things are pigs!” She peered closer, seeing the resemblance now. “Why are they mad at the pigs?”

  “The pigs stole their eggs.”

  She laughed as another structure tumbled to the ground due to her new, amazing sling-shooting ability. With just a swipe of her finger! “Pigs like eggs?”

  “They must.” He smiled. “But the Freudian in me would say all that pent up rage must have something to do with the birds’ mothers.”

  Rose went to hand the tablet back to him but he waved her away. “Play! But be careful, it’s addictive.”

  “It is,” she agreed, starting another level, introducing herself without even looking up. “I’m Rose, by the way.”

  “Matt,” he replied, leaning his seat back with a sigh. “Nice to meet you, Rose. What takes you to St. Bart’s all by yourself?”

  “Oh I’m…going on vacation, of course,” she lied. “How about you?”

  “Going home.” He winked. “I’m one of the, oh, I don’t know, eight-thousand or so permanent residents of the island.”

  “Lucky you,” she commented, moving on to level three. The structures were getting larger and the pigs she had to eliminate by flinging the angry birds at them more numerous.

  “I am,” he agreed happily, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes, stretching his long legs into the aisle. .The gesture reminded her so much of Sam that Rose swallowed the emotion rising in her throat, trying to concentrate on the game in her hands.

  “Damnit,” she swore softly as she ran out of birds—but the pigs survived, the structure still intact.

  Matt opened one eye and grinned. “I told you it was addictive.”

  “But amusing,” she contested, starting the level again.

  “An irresistible combination.”

  “So do you own a hotel on the island or something?” Rose asked, making small talk as she continued playing on her seat mate’s tablet.

  He didn’t open his eyes. “I’m a doctor.”

  “Oh well that makes sense.” She glanced up as someone stepped over Matt’s feet in the aisle, making their way to a seat. “They need doctors everywhere. Why not choose a tropical island to practice on?”

  “Would you tell that to my mother?” Matt straightened up as more people began to filter onto the plane. “She thinks I should be practicing back in New York.”

  Rose smiled. “Parents always think they know best.”

  “What do your parents think you should do for a living?”

  “My father wanted me to be a doctor, but I became a first-grade teacher instead,” she told him. “My mother? She just wants me to marry a doctor.”

  “Ha! My mother keeps telling me I’ll understand when I have children of my own.” He shrugged, folding his arms over his chest and looking over her shoulder as she played the game.

  “Pushing for grandkids, is she?”

  “Putting the cart before the horse, as usual. I need a wife first.” He pointed at the screen. “Try a lower angle for this one. And don’t pull back so far.”

  “Thanks.” Rose did as he instructed, killing off a whole building full of evil green pigs and feeling quite proud of herself. “You could always adopt kids if you really wanted them.”

  “Nah.” He shrugged. “I’m an old-fashioned kind of guy.”

  Rose looked across the aisle, noticing a young couple sitting together, holding hands and smiling. Honeymoon, she thought, a twinge of pain tightening her chest.

  “You all right?”

  She blinked at her seat mate, lying again. “Fine.”

  “You sure about that?” He glanced over at the happy couple and back at her.

  “Oh, well… I guess I’m a little nervous.” She gestured around the plane. “About the flight.”

  He waved her concern away. “I promise you, these little puddle jumpers are safer than the big commercial airplanes. And these pilots could land a plane on the edge of a dime if they had to.”

  “Well that’s good to know.” She tried to smile, tried not to notice the couple across the way leaning in to kiss.

  “Miss, could you please put that away while we take off?” the flight attendant asked, moving on before Rose could respond.

  She handed the tablet back to Matt. “Thanks for letting me play.”

  “See, I told you they’d make us turn them off,” he muttered, taking it from her. “Oh hey, that’s a nasty scar.”

  Rose pulled her hand back quickly, hiding her scar under the edge of her long-sleeved blouse. She wore them all the time now, even in the Florida heat.

  “Excuse me.” She stood, not looking at him. “I’m going to use the rest room before we take off.”

  He stood to let her pass, not saying anything. When she’d splashed water on her face and inspected her eyes to make sure it didn’t look like she’d been crying, she made her way back to her seat to find him stretched out again, eyes closed. Definitely asleep.

  Instead of disturbing him—that’s what she told herself, it didn’t have to do anything with not wanting to face him again—she asked the flight attendant if she could sit in an empty seat up near the front and thankfully, the woman obliged.

  Settled alone by the window, Rose watched the land below her disappear, wondering what she was getting herself into. Poppy had assured and reassured her, had shown her brochures and emailed her testimony from other clients whose lives had been changed at this treatment center.

  She hadn’t told Poppy or her parents, but this was it. It was her last-ditch effort to figure out what was wrong with her, to see if anyone could fix the thing in her that was broken. If they couldn’t… well, she’d already experienced the heartache of losing Sam. She didn’t think she could ever risk something like that again in her lifetime.

  * * * *

  This can’t be happening.

  Rose had asked to be seen by another physician when she’d seen him through the little check-in window—oh my god it’s the guy from the plane!—flipping through charts and chatting with the nurses. There was no way she could possibly strip naked in front of him. She’d avoided his gaze after they landed, barely acknowledging his wave and smile from the other end of the plane as everyone filed down the little aisle. Thankfully he’d been forced off first and Rose had gathered her stuff and spent a good ten minutes in the airplane bathroom—long enough for the flight attendant to knock and check on her—before getting off the plane herself. By then he’d been gone, and she’d been so relieved.

  She should have known, when he’d said he was a doctor. But how could she have known he was the doctor, the one who ran the treatment center? His picture or name hadn’t been in any of the brochures, not that she remembered anyway. And she would have remembered.

 
“He’s our only doctor,” the confused red-headed, freckled receptionist told her. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, no.” Rose shook her head, had backed away from the window, thinking of bolting out the glass doors. But where would she go? She’d already checked into her room at the facility, been given the tour, gone through a two-hour orientation and eaten lunch with several of the other clients. The physical examination was part of the process. She couldn’t avoid it forever.

  And it turned out that he had been quite kind. Of course, he had. He was witty and charming, acknowledging their chance meeting on the plane, trying to put her at ease. It was just impossible to feel comfortable while she was naked except for her little paper gown, answering “Dr. Matt’s” intimate questions and trying not to choke on her answers.

  “So you’ve never experienced an orgasm?” Dr. Matt chewed thoughtfully on the top of his pen and Rose distracted herself from her own rising, uncomfortable blush by noting how mangled and twisted the tip was from his constant gnawing. It was a nervous habit she wouldn’t have expected from a professional, but somehow it made him seem more human, and for that she was glad.

  “I’m not sure.” She could feel the roses blooming in her cheeks and looked down at the paper dress she wore. It hardly covered anything, but Dr. Matt didn’t seem to notice or care. He was a doctor, after all, even if he’d insisted she use his first name after the title instead of his last, and that meant he might really be able to help her. She had to tell him the truth. “You see, I have these dreams…”

  Dr. Matt waited patiently for her to go on, still chewing on his pen. His teeth were very white and very straight, his eyes dark and watchful. He reminded her so much of Sam it hurt. Dr. Matt was decidedly handsome, somewhere around her age, and she found it very difficult to speak about her problem to a man who looked and sounded far too much like her fiancé. Ex-fiancé. Finally, she went on, feeling the slow burn spreading down from her cheeks to her neck.

  “I think I do… have orgasms…” She swallowed, feeling the heat filling her chest. “In my dreams.”

  “So you’re having nocturnal emissions?” He noted something on his clipboard, glancing up when she didn’t respond. “Wet dreams?”

  She nodded her assent, not trusting her voice.

  “But you’ve never had an orgasm while you’re awake?” he inquired, cocking his head, a sad sort of sympathy in his eyes that made her want to either crawl under the table or smack him—she couldn’t decide which. “Either alone or with a partner?”

  “No,” she finally confessed. “Never.”

  He nodded, tapping the pen against his straight, white teeth. “And you’ve tried all the usual methods of stimulation—fingers, vibrators…?”

  Rose closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I’ve tried everything.” She couldn’t even begin to tell him the things she’d tried, the various implements and manipulations that had gone on between her thighs over the years in an attempt to bring her some semblance of pleasure.

  “Interesting.” He was writing on his clipboard again.

  “So do you think you can help me?”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.” He stood, putting his clipboard aside and standing. Rose shrank as he came toward her, towered over her, far too close for her comfort. “If that’s really what you want. Is it?”

  “I—” She hesitated, meeting his gaze. It was straightforward and far too knowing. “Of course I do. Why else would I be here?”

  He smiled. “You did read all of the consent forms you signed, didn’t you?”

  “Of course.” Rose squirmed on the table, feeling the paper beneath her naked bottom crinkle. Her answer wasn’t exactly true. She’d been tired and the forms were long and involved.

  Dr. Matt reached out and took her hand, clasping it between two of his. His touch was shockingly warm and familiar. “Rose, we’re not going to get to the bottom of this if you lie to me.”

  She stared at him, mouth agape. “What—?” She couldn’t help flashing back to the look on Sam’s face when she admitted that yes, she had lied, she’d been faking her orgasms all along. The pain of the moment took her breath away.

  “No lies.” Dr. Matt’s hands squeezed hers gently. “Let’s start there, okay?”

  Rose felt tears pricking her eyes and blinked them back. “Okay.”

  When she complied with his request to recline onto the table for the physical exam, Rose realized her aunt had been right. This place really was different from any other place she had ever been for treatment, and this Dr. Matt was different as well. She just didn’t know yet if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “I’ve reviewed all your medical records,” he said as he snapped on a pair of gloves. “Your last pap smear was about six months ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “No need to do another one then. I’m just going to examine you manually.” He stood at the side of the table, smiling down at her so warmly she could almost feel it. “Can I touch you?”

  She hesitated only a moment. “Okay.”

  His hands were warm, even in gloves, sliding under her paper gown from the side and cupping her right breast, his fingers and thumb moving over her flesh just like any other doctor’s, doing a typical breast exam. “Any pain in your breasts?”

  “No.” She met his eyes as he moved to the other breast. “Well sometimes before my period.”

  “That’s normal.” He nodded. “Does it feel good to have your nipples touched?”

  Rose gasped when he tweaked her nipple, nodding. “Yes.”

  “Close your eyes,” he instructed. She obeyed, although her already high anxiety level rose to even greater heights when she did. “On a scale of one to ten, one being horrible and ten being the best thing ever, tell me how good this feels.”

  Dr. Matt rolled her nipple slowly between his thumb and forefinger, back and forth, as if turning a dial.

  “Three,” she managed to squeak out.

  “Physically, not emotionally,” he chided.

  “Oh.” She smiled, eyes still closed, feeling herself relax just a little. The sensation increased the moment she did, sending little sparks down her nerve endings. “Six, I guess.”

  “So you do experience pleasure?”

  “Oh, yes.” She felt her belly tighten when his other hand began manipulating her left nipple the same way. “It feels nice.”

  “You can open your eyes.” He was smiling when she did. “Do you mind if I touch your vagina?”

  She made a face at the clinical word but nodded her head.

  “We like to use terms you’re comfortable with,” he said, interpreting her look. “During sex, what would you call your genitals?”

  “I don’t have a penis.” Rose giggled. She couldn’t help it. “I’m not a guy. I didn’t name it.”

  He laughed. “Okay, complete this sentence. ‘I’d like you to touch my blank.’”

  The heat filling her cheeks moved down to her chest, but she managed to take a deep breath and say the words. “I’d like you to touch my…pussy.”

  “Okay.” He nodded, still smiling his approval. “May I touch your pussy?”

  Rose winced again. Now it had moved from far too clinical to far too intimate. But what else could she do?

  “Yes.”

  She closed her eyes without being asked this time, feeling his fingers parting her lips, sliding two of them inside. His other hand pressed gently over her belly and he rocked his hands, checking the position of her uterus. She’d had the examination often enough to know just what he was doing, but his next question surprised her.

  “Have you ever shaved your pussy?”

  “No.” Her eyes flew open to see him looking down between her legs, where his hand disappeared under her paper skirt. “Why?”

  “It’s been known to increase sensation.”

  She got up on her elbows to peer at him. “Really?”

  “I’d like to take a closer look,” he said. “Do you mind
getting up in the stirrups?”

  “Okay.”

  He helped her put her legs up and scoot down to the end of the table, the most humiliating position in the world. She noticed for the first time that there was a poster on the ceiling, just a little one with a picture of an acorn and a quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson—what lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

  Rose didn’t think whoever had chosen the poster had really thought about the literal interpretations, but she was thinking about them as Dr. Matt slid two fingers into her vagina—pussy—again. It made her want to giggle like she was twelve-years-old.

  “See anything wrong?”

  “Decidedly not.” He chuckled. “Everything appears physically normal. I’d like to try something. Would you mind if we did a stimulation test?”

  She sighed. “Okay.”

  “I know you’ve been through this before.”

  She had, numerous times, but she still gasped when a strong buzzing sensation met the sensitive bud of her clit. It was so strange to be in a clinical setting like this and have someone testing your capacity for arousal. It was like walking a tightrope over an unknown drop into nothing. Dr. Matt continued rubbing a vibrator against her clitoris, back and forth, up and down.

  “How does that feel?”

  “Nice.” Rose blinked up at the ceiling.

  “I’m going to leave this here on your clitoris for a moment while I do an internal examination. Do you mind?”

  She shrugged. “No.”

  His fingers were feeling around inside, gentle but pressing firmly. “And you’ve had your g-spot explored?”

  “Thoroughly,” she assured him. “It’s broken too.”

  He hesitated for a moment and then stood up between her legs, looking down at her. “You’re not broken, Rose.”

  She couldn’t help the tears that stung her eyes. “Yes I am.”

  He shook his head violently. “Do you feel that?”

  “What? The vibrator?” she asked, swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Of course.”

  “No, this.” He removed his gloved hand from her pussy and brought it up to her stomach, pressing her hand there along with his. “Feel how tight your muscles are? How little breath is getting down here into your belly?”