by Nora Ash
Such an incredible amount of discomfort! Her furiously blushing face should have been enough of an answer, but she assumed he meant of the physical kind and tried to get her throat to squeak out an answer. “Bit... a bit tender.” Purely from the unaccustomed attention—it had been an eternity since a man had gotten handsy with her—but if it got him to stop the disturbing onslaught on her sensitive peaks she was not above mild exaggeration.
“Hmm,” he hummed, letting his fingertips knead the flesh carefully. “Glands are well developed, tissue appropriately soft. Good, no problems so far.”
The abrupt removal of his warm hands made the air seem uncomfortably chilly in contrast, and goose bumps crawled from her dusky pink areolas up her arms and down her stomach. But before she managed a full, shaky breath of relief his fingers were on her torso again, this time pressing lightly underneath her ribs, traveling down inch by inch, press by press.
“You need to eat a bit more, Selma.” Dr. Hershey had gotten to her stomach, but stopped the pressing for a minute so he could move back around to stand between her spread legs again, gaining easier access to her lower body. His fingers found her flesh again, prodding at the area around her naval.
“Uhm... ?” Despite the increased tension throughout her body as his tall frame once again loomed terribly close to her exposed center, his words caught her off guard; she’d always been hovering around a normal, healthy weight for her medium build, and no one had ever suggested she was too skinny.
His hands smoothed out over her abdomen, keeping a light pressure up. “A slightly thicker layer under your skin will be helpful in encouraging optimization of your hormonal production. It is somewhat the same principle as for women who are trying to conceive; estrogen and progesterone levels peak with just a marginally higher body fat percentage. In fact, a prenatal vitamin supplement would be beneficial too.”
“I’m not trying to get pregnant,” she pointed out, attempting to recall the biology classes that had focused on human physiology, but nothing that came back to her was helpful in supporting or disputing his claim.
His pressing fingers moved out and down, probably searching for her ovaries. “When you do become pregnant, your hormonal level will—eventually—benefit. Of course, it’ll most likely make your hallucinations come back at first, even if we do manage to settle them with this treatment, but afterward you should be a lot more stable. However, the vitamins and weight gain will support your mental health’s recovery long before pregnancy.”
She could have pointed out that she never planned to have children, but just then the doctor turned around to pull over a chair, placing it so he could prop himself on it comfortably, and every muscle in her body tensed up in realization of what his gaze now rested on. It was ridiculous, really; she’d had these examinations done before... there was no point in being shy. So he was a psychiatrist instead of a gynecologist—no big deal; he was an acclaimed researcher, head of his field—
“Oh!” Selma bit back on her outburst as heated skin brushed against the curls between her legs.
Dr. Hershey hummed soothingly, but when she glanced down his head was bent over her groin and his focus was solely on his work. He pressed a little firmer against her lips, increasing the warm sensation from his touch before dragging both thumbs upwards, parting her labia in the process.
“I will need to check that you respond appropriately to stimulation before we continue with the internal examination,” he said unconcernedly, casting a quick look up at her alarmed face. The orange eyes seemed to flame, creating an odd discord to his professional tone. “Try to keep your hips still for me.” And then, offering her no chance to protest, his thumbs slid to the top of her slit, pinching the small pearl located there firmly between them.
A shockwave of sensation shuddered through the brunette, and it was all she could do to keep her legs in the stirrups instead of squeezing her thighs shut. Her fingers curled against the chair, but there was nothing she could do to control the low whimper escaping her throat.
“I know; you like to be touched more gently.” She could have sworn that there was a note of amusement in his voice, but the firm pressure against her most sensitive spot made it hard to focus. And then he shifted the pressure, gently pulling the protective hood away so her clit was completely exposed and defenseless. “Mmmh, you certainly are very sensitive here, perhaps even more so than is normal.” Keeping the hood back with two fingers he reached back with his right hand and grabbed something off the table.
Selma attempted to pull away just enough to ensure a minimal sense of safety for her tender nub, but the doctor’s gaze immediately turned back to her when she shifted in the chair.
“Keep still.” It was a flat-out command, and she froze mid-movement. The otherwise kind doctor was certainly authoritative!
He swiveled back around fully, and to her relief she saw that it was some form of lubrication bottle he’d reached for, and not one of the unpleasant-looking instruments. He held it at an angle between her legs, and a cool spike shot through her when a small amount landed directly on her clit.
“There, that should make this more pleasant.” He shifted his grip again, manipulating the protective hood between two fingers on both hands, and with a small movement he brought it back up, spreading the lubricant over the entire nub underneath it. A deep-rooted shiver went through Selma as her hyper-alert nerves reacted to the—now soothing—touch, and she let out an involuntary gasp.
But when he immediately pulled the fingers back down, her hips lifted instinctively in an effort to protect herself.
Dr. Hershey released her clit, but if she thought he was done, she was sorely mistaken.
“I cannot continue if you don’t lie still. If you don’t mind, we’ll constrict your thighs to the chair so I can manipulate your clitoris without being interrupted.” There was just enough sharpness in the doctor’s voice to quell her protests before they were even voiced, so she lay mutely while the leather straps she’d refused to focus on when she entered the room was strapped just below her knees and around her thighs.
The humiliation of being tied to a gynecological chair made her close her eyes, and so she wasn’t prepared for his touch to return. She jumped in surprise as her lips were once again spread and the hood pushed back, but the restraints kept her firmly in place, and Dr. Hershey not so much as paused. The gentle movements up and down her clit started immediately, aided by the lubricant, and in her helpless state all she could do was let it happen.
“There, that’s much better, isn’t it? Just relax… your body is responding nicely. How does it feel?”
What was there to say to that? She was tied down, and a stranger—with horns—was rubbing her more intimately than anyone else before him... and the physical stimulation was slowly but surely getting to her.
“It’s okay.” It was barely more than an embarrassed whisper.
Grabbing her abused clit between thumb and a knuckle he placed the now free hand on her lower stomach, pressing down firmly to keep her completely still as he picked up the pace some. “Do you feel aroused? As I said, your body is responding as it should; your clitoris and labia have begun to swell and expose the vagina, and there are signs of lubrication, but it is important to note if the physical stimulation correlates to your mental and emotional experience.”
She could feel it, her body’s response to him. She could feel her pussy opening up in invitation, readying her for the expected penetration; she could feel her thoughts fall into the seducing rush of hormones, basic chemistry betraying her as she fought the urge to give in to the pleasurable aspect of it all. Though, if she admitted to getting some level of enjoyment out of the perverse situation, maybe he would finally relent and move on to the more customary parts of the examination?
“Yes, a little.” It was the ultimate humiliation; confessing that she found her gynecological checkup sexually stimulating, but the entire thing was already so far out of her comfort zone that all she could do was grasp on to the fac
t that he was behaving as if everything was perfectly normal.
However, her admission didn’t stop the onslaught on her exposed flesh, and the stimulation was rapidly becoming uncomfortably intense, forcing her body to react. She could feel more moisture rush to her core, and her hips were fighting to press up against his touch as internal muscles contracted in search of something to clench around.
“Please stop.” She couldn’t do this; she couldn’t orgasm in front of her doctor. “Please, I don’t want to do this anymore.”
He looked up then, flaming eyes catching hers. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, Selma. I need to see you climax from clitoral stimulation, so we can be sure that the therapy will work.”
He couldn’t be serious! Eyes wide with shock she scrambled to get up, hands flying down to try to push his fingers away. “No, please, I’m really not comfortable with that!”
She’d expected him to stop then, so they could discuss other options for her treatment. She hadn’t expected that he’d grab her wrists in the hand not busy on her clit.
“Be calm,” he told her as he pressed her back down flat on her back without releasing her wrists or seemingly put in any effort despite her weak struggling. “This is a necessary step, and strictly about your treatment. Please be still so I can concentrate; if I miss certain signs it could make the later treatment unpleasant or ineffective.”
The big hand stayed firmly wrapped around her wrists as he returned his focus to her clit, and Selma moaned in distress as she felt her body give in. Heat rushed through her from his touch, followed by electric charges of pleasure that made her muscles cramp and tense to arch against the pressure, though the leather straps around her thighs and his hand on her wrists kept her down.
“Please!” she gasped, trying—and failing—to calm her breathing to regain a minimum of control of her own body. She wasn’t used to it responding so willingly to another's touch, but the doctor seemed to know exactly how to manipulate her aching nub, and within minutes she was on the edge, fighting against him with the last bits of willpower not hazed over by her body’s demand for release.
But then he started speaking, and his voice was no longer distantly professional; it was dark and velvety, heated with promise.
“Give in, sweetheart,” he murmured, never easing his hold or the pressure between her legs. “Be a big girl and come for me; let me see you take my pleasure now.”
The shock that vibrated through her when the professional barrier came crashing down between them was enough for her to completely lose her grip on any remaining composure; white-hot pleasure snapped through her body and exploded in her brain, and she was dimly aware of the hoarse cry forcing its way out her throat as she finally shuddered in orgasm.
Relief flooded her system on a river of endorphins. Had she ever come so hard before? The buzzing in her mind said no, but it was hard to remember while the pleasurable aftershocks still coursed through her veins in tingly tendrils.
“That’s it, take your time.” A warm hand stroked over her inner thigh and swollen labia. “Ride it out.”
Her body pressed against his touch, as if it realized that he was the source of its pleasurable state, but something in the back of her mind tried to wake up from the haze to warn her about him. There was something wrong, something not quite right about the way he rubbed her tummy and praised her.
It broke through the haze when his one hand traveled up far enough to surround a breast, squeezing it gently, while the other nestled against her lower lips, caressing her softly and intimately. Startled, she opened her eyes and stared up at the creature posing as a doctor. His horns were silhouetted against the sharp ceiling light, and the flaming eyes burned against his eerily handsome face.
He had her tied up and at his mercy, with no one within earshot, should she need to scream for help, and no way of overpowering the much-bigger man.
“Shh, relax sweetheart.” The hand around her breast slipped down and rubbed her stomach again, creating pleasant shivers in its wake. “You did very well. Are you ready to continue?”
Selma swallowed thickly as she forced her brain to focus on the situation, rather than on her post-orgasmic bliss. If his reaction to her protests before was any indicator, she wouldn’t be allowed back to her room before he had finished whatever it was he had intended with this examination, and in her vulnerable position she had nothing to gain by trying to defy him. So… she nodded stiffly, praying silently that he didn’t intend to harm her.
“Selma.” The tone was unexpectedly gentle. “Don’t be afraid. I am aware that this seems on the unprofessional side; it is not, I promise you. You are just the type of patient that needs a bit more than purely physical stimulation to let go. You are not in any danger.”
There were questions there, protests her mind couldn’t quite phrase, but his soothing voice was so alluringly calm, and it was much easier to believe his words rather than the nagging feeling at the back of her mind—a mind that already played tricks on her, and was the reason she was in this situation in the first place.
Slowly, she nodded again. He certainly hadn’t hurt her up until now, unconventional methods aside, and whatever lay ahead it’d be easier to get through if she believed him.
Dr. Hershey offered a reassuring smile at her surrender, and returned both hands to her slit, spreading her open again. “Everything seems in order, and you are nicely opened up and ready. Good. We can continue with the internal examination.” Without further words he then slipped a finger up inside of her.
Her pussy clenched automatically, searching for further stimulation, and the doctor’s smile turned slightly wider at her involuntary response.
“You are getting used to me; that’s good. Don’t be embarrassed, it’s a perfectly natural response.” He twisted his hand around, and she mewled when he hit the soft, spongy spot on her frontal wall. “Yes, there we go... Have you ever experienced a climax from g-spot stimulation alone?”
“N-no.” God, he was riding it now, pressing hard while drawing small circles. Her body’s response was to clamp down on his finger for more, although the sensation was too intense to be entirely pleasant. She flexed her hips, trying to escape the pressure.
To her relief—and surprise—he pulled his finger out of her. “But you enjoy having it rubbed, yes?”
The sheen on the finger he casually held up between them made denial pretty impossible. Blushing, she nodded.
“Most women need clitoral stimulation to climax—as long as penetration is pleasurable for you, that is not a concern.” He turned around and grabbed a rather intimidating-looking speculum off the tray as he continued to apply some of the same lubrication to as he had dripped on her clit earlier, before spinning back between her legs. “Just relax for me now, sweetheart.”
Taking a deep breath, Selma made her muscles relax as she leaned back in the chair. While it was bound to be an uncomfortable experience, at least she was familiar with this type of examination, which was a comforting fact.
Cool metal brushed against her lips, followed by the heated touch of the doctor’s fingers as he spread her open. Then the speculum pushed inside of her, nestling itself in her slick channel and soothing the hot throb of her blood from the previous stimulations.
“There, nice and easy. Now, let’s see if your body is as ripe and ready to conceive a baby as it appears, hmm?”
Pregnancy wasn’t exactly at the forefront of her mind, but supposedly a hormonal imbalance would affect that as well as the illusions, so maybe that was why he mentioned it? Nevertheless, something about the way he said it nagged at her increasingly unsettled feeling about the whole situation, but when he clamped open the instrument inside of her, all thoughts centered swiftly and solely on that.
“Oh, God!” The stretch was forceful and vast, and her pussy struggled desperately to press back against the intrusion. Yet the more her internal muscles fought against him the wider she was forced open, until he couldn’t press her any further. �
��Please, not so much!” Sweat broke from her forehead as her sex protested in agonized cramps. The engorged, wet state of her core allowed the speculum to wrench her open far beyond what any doctor or man had before, and it was impossible for her to ignore the strongly sexual implication of struggling with the size of what he forced into her—especially since her channel’s defensive clenching on the gaping speculum started driving pleasurable tingles through her still-aroused body.
“Shh, you are doing fine.” A large hand smoothed down her quivering thigh, over the pubic mound and up to her abdomen where it pressed lightly, before he bent down further, flaming eyes focusing on her gaping pussy. “Ah, your cervix is smooth and lush... very beautiful, Selma. Very fertile, from the looks of things.“
A small whimper escaped her in response; she didn’t have the focus or energy to correct him on his continued comments about her ability to reproduce, but his hand on her belly had started to press down rhythmically, forcing her vaginal muscles to work the metal device inside of her, and pained pleasure was building in her sex as a result.
He finally stopped when she felt her juices trickling down past the speculum; he’d ignored the hands she’d wrapped around his wrist in a desperate plea, along with her throaty moans of distress—and reluctant enjoyment from the most basic part of her body. Brushing through her short curls in a soothing caress he reached for another instrument she couldn’t see. A not entirely pleasant prodding sensation deep inside of her the moment after helped re-establish a sense of normality, though the unrelenting stretch kept any thoughts of relaxing with the procedure far from her mind.
It took him far too long and far too many uncomfortable nudges at her cervix and vaginal walls to finish his examination of her quivering pussy, but when he finally, finally, withdrew the speculum from her with a wet squelching noise, she could have sobbed from relief.
“You appear perfectly healthy.” Dr. Hershey smiled down at her while he rubbed her lips to soothe the ache in her intimate opening. At this point, Selma was too exhausted to care, and the warm fingers, wet from her juices, felt good as they massaged her trembling muscles. She relaxed against the chair, rubbing her face with her hand and covering her eyes so they didn’t strain from the harsh ceiling light. When she allowed herself to relax in the moment and close her eyes against the world, she could almost imagine that her exhausted muscles and puffy sex was caused by a lover rather than a doctor.
