Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66851 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I stared wide-eyed at her as she tried to come up with a word to replace the one she had clearly intended to use, but had then thought better of. My eyes darted over to the doctor. I suddenly felt desperate to know what the fuck the word Nurse Cathy had on the tip of her tongue was. The idea gnawed at the edge of my mind… the bizarre notion that deep down I was something… something I had never guessed… something that could explain this terrible, unknown sentence to a program that featured paddles, and firefighters, and…
Daddies.
The doctor finished the nurse’s sentence for her, but in a way that didn’t help me at all.
“A suitably-oriented candidate for this rehabilitation program,” he said, almost absent-mindedly and still looking down at his tablet. Then he spoke to Nurse Cathy again. “She spiked hard just there. Could you hand me the clitoral trainer and apply some lubricant? We need to get a good baseline.”
This time I remembered that I couldn’t speak, so I didn’t even try to say, The what?!
I felt an absurd stab of pride in having recalled the fact that I had a pink ball-gag between my lips and over my tongue, and had avoided yet another humiliating protest. Even if I’d had the power of speech, it would have sounded stupid for me just to keep saying the same thing, demanding the same information that it seemed the doctor had no intention of supplying.
I had fixed my attention on Nurse Cathy, who had reached into a drawer on the cart she had wheeled in with her and taken out a tube of something that I assumed wasn’t toothpaste, then a little white thing, a sort of bent oval about the size of a golf ball. She handed the device—the clitoral trainer, I remembered with a fluttering dread in my tummy—to the doctor, and then put the tube down on the cart and started to pull on a pair of rubber gloves.
I felt a surge of heat to my face like the eruption of a volcano. Something about the clinical way the woman put on her gloves, and the way their stretchy green material implied the dirtiness of what she would have to do to prepare me for the… the other thing… it made my face go a bright crimson I didn’t have to have a mirror to see. I knew myself that well, at least, my fair complexion making the obviousness of my blushes an inevitable fact of life.
Much, much worse, though, my body’s reaction to the gloves made the doctor’s tablet chime, as I felt another surge of heat, down below. In turn, what he saw on the screen sent his eyebrows up half an inch or so.
“That’s interesting,” he said to Nurse Cathy. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a reaction quite that strong.”
Helplessly, I watched as he held the little white thing up for me to see. He clicked some invisible little button on its surface, and it started to buzz softly between his fingers.
“This is my clitoral trainer, Marianne,” he said in a patient, slow voice, as if he were speaking to someone who didn’t have smarts like mine—as if he addressed a little girl… a naughty little girl, even. One who had earned a special kind of lesson.
I tried to look daggers back into his eyes, but the way his voice affected me, and the knowledge that he could see my body’s involuntary arousal at this humiliation, brought tears to the corners of my own eyes, too. I tried to blink them away with visible anger, but I could see from the doctor’s face that I hadn’t fooled him in the slightest.
“When Cathy here has lubed you up a little, she’s going to stimulate you with it while I control it and observe your physiological response on my tablet.”
My whole body shuddered at that point, because the nurse had started applying the lube to the terribly warm, tingling place at the top of my pussy, where she had shaved me only a few moments before. My back arched and my chin lifted, and I writhed against the webbing restraints that bound me to the exam chair, despite my best effort to keep my limbs still. I heard myself emit a mortifying little keening noise from deep in my throat.
The doctor looked down at his tablet. “From only the lube,” he said to himself in a musing tone of voice. He looked back up at me sharply. “As I said a moment ago, I don’t think your criminal behavior merits this ‘penalty,’ if we can even call it that, Marianne. But I suppose it makes some difference that some deserving, hard-working men are going to have a young woman as responsive as you are to take out their frustrations on and forget about their stressful duties in using you sexually.”