“Here we are,” Becca soothes as she cuts off the engine. “You wait here; I’m going to race inside and find you a wheelchair.”
I nod, resting my head against the seat as she disappears. All the worst possible outcomes are racing through my head right now. What if I need surgery? Forget about the pain or explaining this to a doctor, how I do explain it to Mom and my brother, Matt? I’m such a shit liar, too, so if I concoct some story, they’re going to see right through it and badger me until I confess the truth, which pretty much happened with every lie I told during my childhood.
The door opens, and I look up, expecting to see Becca. Instead, I see a middle-aged male orderly smiling sympathetically at me.
“Your friend said you might need some assistance getting out?”
“Thanks,” I say, not sure what else to say to that.
Becca’s face appears behind him, mouthing I’m sorry. I brace myself and carefully slide my butt across the seat to the door. I moan, my thighs twitching as I bury my face in the seat, pressing my legs together. I sob softly as I come for what feels like the thousandth time.
After this, I don’t think I’ll ever want to orgasm again.
Of course, I know I’ll stop thinking that the moment this is over. It’s like gorging yourself with Easter eggs to the point where you’re physically sick. You swear off chocolate for life, and it lasts for two hours. Or maybe that’s just me.
“There we are,” he says as I sit down in the chair. I nod, my heart racing as I lower my head. “Let’s get you inside now, hey?”
He hasn’t asked what the problem is, which makes me wonder how much Becca told him. Usually orderlies talk your ear off, asking you all sorts of invasive questions. Not this guy, though. This guy is even avoiding eye contact.
He wheels me into a cubicle and helps me onto the bed. I clutch his arm as the movement triggers another orgasm. They’re getting shorter now, which is good, but it’s just constant pain. All I can think is how I’m on my knees, clutching some strange man’s arm, while he supports me through an orgasm. When he starts trying to soothe me like he’s comforting a crying baby, I nearly lose it—in more ways than one.
“You’re okay. We’ll get you checked out and get this pain under control,” he assures me.
I nearly faint with relief. Pain. He thinks I’m in pain.
Oh, thank God for that.
Rolling myself over, I lie back on the bed and smile, my heart pounding erratically in my chest. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing, trying to slow down my heart rate. I find the best position is to lie flat on my back with my legs slightly parted. The less I move, the easier it is to handle, even though there’s no relief from the constant discomfort.
I listen to Becca thanking the orderly for his help. I wait until he’s gone before I crack open my eyes to see Becca leaning over my face. Her eyes are laced with concern.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. Her usually bright eyes are laced with worry as she clutches my hand. “He insisted on helping when I asked for the chair. I told him you had an exploding cyst.”
I laugh at that and even manage a smile.
“It’s fine.”
She touches my forehead and frowns. “You’re sweating bucket loads, Loz. Maybe I should go and find—”
“Please don’t,” I say grabbing onto her arm. “I want to avoid talking about this for as long as I can.” I glance at her, a horrible thought suddenly hitting me. “Actually, can you request a female doctor for me?” I ask. “I don’t think I can handle telling this story to a male.”
Especially if he’s young and even remotely attractive.
“I’ll see what I can do,” she promises.
She walks out, leaving me alone as another orgasm hits. I’m exhausted as I cry out, my hands grabbing hold of the sides of the bed I’m lying on. I groan, my back arching as my body starts to tremble. Finally, it subsides, leaving me breathless and nearing my limit. I wipe my eyes because I’m not sure how much more of this I can handle.
What if they never stop?
“Laura Black.”
My head whips around. I stare at the deliciously sexy doctor standing in front of me, staring down at a clipboard. I want to die. My breathing shallows as panic takes over.
Oh God, no.
This guy is perfect in every way. From his well-defined muscles that are peeking out of his scrubs, to his messy, but stylish dark hair, right down to those dreamy, chestnut colored eyes… He looks like a freaking model, and he’s definitely not someone I want to discuss this with.
Where the hell is Becca with my female doctor?
“Hi. I’m Doctor Dillon, one of the resident doctors here.” He smiles warmly at me, but I don’t smile back. I’m in too much shock to do anything other than gawk at him like an idiot. He glances down at his clipboard and then back at me. “So, you have an exploding cyst. How bad is the pain, on a scale of one to ten right now?” he asks. “And have you had cysts in the past?” he adds, flicking through his notes.
His brow furrows when I don’t answer either question. He steps closer to the bed. I jump, causing my body to react in the one way I don’t want it to in front of him. I blink back tears, squirming as I squeeze my thighs closed while doing my best to ignore him as he looks at me in surprise.
“I can’t talk to you. I need a female doctor,” I puff, my face flaming.
“I totally get that, Laura. I’m more than happy to request that for you, but we’re severely understaffed tonight so you might be waiting a while.” He clears his throat. “I can assure you I’m very professional. I take the safety and privacy of my patients very seriously, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re comfortable.”
He speaks earnestly while I lie there, defeated. I know I can’t put up with this for much longer. So what if he’s hotter than a Calvin Klein model and in five minutes, he’ll be elbow deep inside me, probably while I’m in the middle of an orgasm?
As soon as this is over, I never have to see him again. The important thing right now is to get this out of me. I take a deep breath and nod.
“Fine, let’s just get it over with,” I mutter, gritting my teeth.
“Okay, can you tell me more about the cyst?” he asks. “Has it been diagnosed previously?”
“I…” I swallow, my heart pounding. I close my eyes and force the words out. “There is no cyst. I had a mishap with a toy.”
“I’m sorry?” he says, frowning at me. “I don’t understand what you—” He stops mid-sentence and stares at me, his eyes widening. “Oh.” After a moment of reflection, he quickly moves on. “So, it’s stuck? Inside your vagina?”
“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t,” I snap, close to tears again.
“Right,” he replies.
He shakes his head, looking a bit lost at what to do next. Given that he’s a resident, this could well be his first disappearing vibrator case. Yay for being his first.
“Okay, so have you attempted to get it out?” he asks.
I nod. “I’ve tried, but I can’t get myself into the right position. Every time I do, it triggers an orgasm.”
“Do you have a phone?” he asks.
“No, why?” I say.
I have no idea where this is heading. He reaches into his pocket and hands me his phone. I stare at it, confused. Does he want this on video to show his friends later? That doesn’t sound very professional to me.
“I want you to google a picture of the toy. When I go in, it will help if I know what I’m looking for,” he explains.
He explains it like I’ve asked him to go to Toys “R” Us on black Friday and he doesn’t know what he’s looking for. I sigh and snatch his phone from him. I’m past the point of being embarrassed about this. I just want it over with, and if he needs more of a visual than what he’s about to get, then I’ll give it to him.
“There,” I growl, thrusting his phone back to him.
I look up in shock when the curtain is whisked back, and Becc
a appears.
“There aren’t any female…” Her voice trails off as she stares at my doctor. “Oh.”
“Hi,” he says, frowning at her. “We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Right, I’m her friend.”
She edges closer to me, her eyes growing wide when she catches sight of what’s on his phone. I close my eyes and groan.
“This might get fairly invasive,” Doctor Dillon says to me. “I’m not sure it’s an activity you want your friend here to witness?”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve had a good old feel around up there.” Becca laughs. Her face falls when I glare at her. “Still, I might wait out here, just in case,” she whispers, backing up. She gives me a big thumbs-up as she disappears behind the curtain.
He turns back to me, his eyes locking on mine.
“I’m going to examine you if that’s okay?”
“Knock yourself out,” I say, my voice weak.
Thank God I waxed last week.
Being such a new doctor, I’d only had the one patient experiencing sexual gratification gone wrong, but he was male, and it was a TV remote up his anus, so it wasn’t quite the same. I’m not entirely sure what this examination is going to entail, and I’m not looking forward to finding out. Of course, I don’t have much choice.
I take a deep breath as he lifts up the gown to reveal my pelvis.
“Okay, let me know if you feel any pain or tenderness.” He presses various points, studying my face for my reaction. I shake my head because all the pain and discomfort is much farther south. “No pain at all?” he asks.
“There’s not really pain associated with you pressing down,” I say, trying to explain what I’m feeling. “It’s more constant,” I finally say. “And much, much lower.”
“That’s good news,” he says. He smiles encouragingly. “I think I can retrieve it manually without the need for surgery if you’re okay with me trying?”
Manually. As in, with his hands. I close my eyes and make peace with the fact that there is no saving this situation. At this point, I might as well roll with the punches and get it over with.
“Sure,” I say, a small smile on my lips. “But at least tell me your name before you penetrate me?”
He chuckles at that. “Luke.”
He disappears for a moment, then comes back in wearing gloves and carrying a large bottle of lubricant and the biggest set of forceps I think I’ve ever seen. If I wasn’t freaking out before, I certainly am now. Remember what I said about needing to be in control? My heart pounds as he pulls on his gloves and then sets up a wound care kit on the table next to the bed.
“So, how many lost toys have you retrieved?” I whisper, my throat dry.
He glances at me, amused. “Enough to know what I’m doing,” he assures me. To me, that translates to none. “I’m going to start with just an internal exam. I promise you, if I’m not confident I can get it by hand, I’ll stop and do an ultrasound. Okay?”
I nod, swallowing the baseball sized lump that has formed in my throat. I flinch as he reaches for a speculum and greases it up. He smiles sympathetically at me.
“Any discomfort or if you need a break, just tell me, okay?”
I nod and squeeze my eyes shut, jumping at every tiny touch. It’s just like having a pap smear. There’s nothing to be concerned about.
“I’m going in,” he says.
I groan as he slides the instrument into place, bracing myself as it triggers another orgasm. I’ve lost count of what number we’re up to, but this one feels much more intense. Probably because there is an insanely hot man only inches from my vagina. And in a few minutes, that insanely hot man will be placing his fingers inside me.
Oh God.
Wrong thing to think about. I arch my back slightly, the combination of him and the vibrator pushing me over the edge. I throw my arm over my mouth, trying to smother my moans. I’m so embarrassed, but apparently, my body doesn’t care too much about that. At least, not enough to stop me from climaxing twice in the space of a minute.
Panting, my hands shake as I come down from my high—which is ironically also my lowest point of the day. I feel like crying. I want to get up and run out of here and never look back. The only thing stopping me is that I know I’ll get probably as far as the nurse’s station before it all starts again.
“Keep as still as you can, Laura. I know this is hard, but I can feel it. I just need to get a little deeper…” I whimper at the thought of anything of his going deeper inside me. “There. Got it.”
My eyes fling open. My heart pounds, waiting for the next orgasm to begin, but nothing happens. Still, I brace myself and wait, and… nothing. I smile at him, tears welling in my eyes. I’m not even fazed that he’s grinning from ear to ear while holding the buzzing little sucker out in front of him, like it’s a prized fish he’s just caught.
“Oh, thank God,” I hiccup. I’m crying like a baby because the relief is incredible. Now all I need is to sleep for a week, and I’ll be fine. “I can’t thank you enough,” I add, resisting the urge to hug him. God, I’m so emotional.
“You’re welcome. I think this is the first time I’ve ever had a woman be grateful that I’ve stopped her from orgasming,” he quips.
“I’m more than grateful. I’m thrilled,” I say.
I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. He lunges forward to steady me when I struggle to keep my balance. I wince and rub my stomach. I clearly underestimated how sore I’d be.
“You really shouldn’t be leaving yet,” he says, frowning at me. “I’d like to keep you in for a few hours, so I can monitor you.”
“Thanks, but I really need to get home,” I say. All I can think about is getting as far away from here as I can, and I know for a fact that he can’t make me stay.
“Okay, well if you insist on going, I can’t stop you,” he says. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a script pad, scribbling on it. Then he rips it off and hands it to me.
“So, that’s it? There’s no other… aftercare needed?” I ask.
“Come back if there’s any bleeding or pain, but you should be fine,” he assures me. He manages to address me without smirking, but I can see the amusement in his eyes. “You’ll be tender for a few days, and you might want to avoid using your toys for a few weeks.”
“Damn, however will I cope,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes at him.
He probably thinks I’ve got a kinky dungeon thing going on in my basement.
“Intercourse is fine once the tenderness has eased,” he adds, a twinkle in his eyes.
“Trust me, nothing will be going near my vagina for a long time,” I assure him.
#
“Sit,” Becca insists.
She arms herself with the wheelchair after I’ve signed all the forms, agreeing that I’m going against doctor’s orders by leaving so soon. I’m just thankful this ordeal is finally over.
Much to Becca’s surprise I willingly sit down. I’m still quite unsteady on my feet, so I’m all for her wheeling me out of here. Once at the car, she helps me into my seat and heads back into the hospital to return the chair. I breathe out, enjoying the moment to myself. All I have to do is think about what happened, and I die with embarrassment all over again. I think what makes it worse is that I know the kind of shit doctors say about their patients behind closed doors. I’m in that environment every day, where getting a patient like me is like winning the lottery.
Becca climbs in the car slamming the door shut. She takes one look at my face and bursts into laughter. I glare at her, which just makes her laugh even harder. If I had the energy, I’d get out of the car and walk home.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve been holding that in all day,” she splutters. “I know it’s not funny, but oh my freaking God, Loz, it could only happen to you.” She forces the words out through her laughter and tears. “You’re the only person I know to visit the ER with a toy lodged inside you. They make shows about people
like you. Then, if that wasn’t bad enough, you manage to get yourself fingered by the sexiest doctor I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” she says as she shakes her head. “Maybe I need to order myself one of them.”
“What he did to me was closer to fisting than fingering.” I scowl at her. “And thank you so much for the rundown, but I’m well aware of what just happened because in case you don’t remember, I was there.”
She nods furiously. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. I’m a terrible friend, but I just had to get it out.” She glances at me, biting back either tears or laughter. I’m not sure which. “I’m sure you know what that’s like, right?”
She erupts into another wave of giggles, while I glare straight ahead.
“Are you done?” I snap.
“I think so.” She takes a deep breath and straightens herself up. She looks at me, trying to disguise her grin as sympathy. “At least you don’t have to see him again, right?” She points out.
Thank God for that.
Chapter Two
Laura
It’s been a nearly week since the incident, and I’ve finally worked up the courage to leave my apartment. Okay, so maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but this event came close to scarring me for life. Even though there were no long-lasting ill effects, other than a little pain and tenderness, the emotional trauma was proving a little harder to get over.
For the last six days, every time I’ve closed my eyes, I’ve been right back there on that bed, making small talk with the hottest guy I’ve ever met while he casually fingered me. I even had a nightmare last night where I ran into him in the middle of Walmart. I had to awkwardly make small talk with him, surrounded by vibrators and talking dildos—which they don’t even sell—while my mom stood next to me, asking me what was going on. Maybe lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, bored out of my mind didn’t help my emotional state, but I wanted to make sure I got plenty of rest like the doctor told me to.
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