This is an excerpt from my new book, Violated: A dark sci-fi romance, which just came out this weekend, and is available on Amazon and FREE on Kindle Unlimited. It’s from when Isla gets a medical exam from Adam, for WipItUp Wednesday:
Like the first time he’d come, the doctor was chipper, and reassuringly three-dimensional, and now that he stood at the foot of my metal bed, I didn’t know how I’d possibly believed he was imaginary.
“Good morning, Isla. I hope you’re having a wonderful day. I’m sorry I couldn’t get back all week, there are so many women here.” A momentary flash of darkness crossed his features. I’d never really thought about how many women were here. “Anyway, I want to check on you every day and run some tests until we can identify why you’re not pregnant yet.”
My heart soared. The idea of spending more one-on-one time with the doctor was thrilling.
“First, I need to run blood tests. This is going to pinch. The guards say none of you can feel anything, but I’m never really sure. Studies have shown that’s not always the case with people who can’t respond to pain. So I deeply apologize if this hurts, but I need a good sample so I can run tests on a wider range of things than what the machines usually check for.” He stepped toward me with a needle. I wanted to back away, but I couldn’t. Staring at the metal tip in morbid fascination, I watched him press the thin point against my arm. The skin flexed into a little dimple, then the needle pierced it with a sharp bump, and a moment later, the syringe was filling with
blood. Once it was full, he unsnapped it from the needle, and filled a second, then third vial with the dark liquid I was full of.
Finally, he removed the needle and I stared at the place where it had been. He had been far gentler than the machines usually were, and despite the fact he’d taken much more of me to study, I felt less violated and far less sore than blood tests normally left me. His bedside manner was clearly excellent.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you.” He turned to put the vials of blood in a metal pan. My eyes overflowed once again. In my entire life, this was the first time anyone had put together those specific words and said them to me. It was the first time anyone had ever been so considerate. When he turned back, however, the tears were gone.
“Next, I need to look inside you. I’m going to have to shave your pussy to get the best view of everything that’s down there, because some of the other women have had odd irregularities.”
For the first time since I got there, I was ashamed. Something was wrong with me down there, and he was about to see whatever it was. Maybe I was one of the women with irregularities. There was a loud swooshing sound, then something cold and foamy was massaged all over my pussy. His hands were incredible, and his fingers seemed to move with a firm precision that made me feel like I was safe. He knew what he was doing, as he expertly caressed my pussy lips and swiped the foam all the way back to my rear hole, then turned to the side and wiped his hands on a towel.
He took up a scalpel, and I remembered the first time I saw him. He’d walked into the room holding one. The blade was so small and thin, yet it looked designed for perfect precision. The doctor pressed something on the bed, and my legs began to part.
My heart caught in my throat as he pressed the blade against my bikini line. I was suddenly very afraid that he might decide I was in a good state for him to do some exploratory surgery. Then I remembered what he’d said about the needle. He’d apologized for hurting me. It didn’t make sense that he’d apologize for a teensy needle then plunge a scalpel into my vajayjay. I tried to breathe. The cold metal moved across the surface of my skin in short, purposeful strokes. Where it had traveled, my pubic hairs tugged then air moved against my skin. He bared me, just as he’d said he would.
Every so often, the doctor would push or pull against my outer pussy lips, and the gentle attention was divine. He occasionally turned to rinse foam from the scalpel, before returning his attention to my sex. I was almost positive that this shouldn’t be making me feel tingly, and that it was wrong to hunger for him to touch me more deeply, but all the same, I ached and yearned to be filled by him.
Immobile, I sank into a peaceful reverie as he gradually worked his way either side of my opening, before scraping the side of the scalpel blade against the skin surrounding my ass. The blade’s thin surface was the most sensual thing that had ever stroked my body. By now, my clit throbbed for attention and I wished I could ask him to make me come.
He finished by pressing a hot, damp towel across my pussy and ass, and applying firm pressure. I wanted to melt into a puddle of goo around his hands, so he might lick me up. Then I would never have to watch him leave again.
When it was over, he removed the towel and shined a light into my opening. After a moment, he frowned, then picked up something that looked like a metal duck’s bill.
“I’m going to open you up a little more with this speculum,” he said, looking uncertain once more. “Sorry, but you’re very tight.”
I wondered if tightness was another personal failing, like being an orphan. Then, pressure made me try to gasp, as he inserted the duck’s bill into my vagina. I’d experienced plenty of these before, but they never seemed to get any easier. For the next few minutes, he was busy looking inside me, and occasionally inserting things into me, or pressing things, while the too-stretched feeling continued to make me try to cross my eyes. Eventually, he removed the speculum and stood upright.
“I can’t see any problems. Sometimes, these things just take time. I don’t think this environment is helping you. I’ll think on how I can improve it for you, since I doubt the guards would allow me to do most of the things that would normally work. However, I can’t completely rule out a medical problem yet. I’ll return tomorrow once I have the results of your blood test. In the meantime, try to get some rest.” He winked at me, and I laughed inwardly at his joke. All I ever did was rest. Even now, I was exhausted from my short time awake. It felt strange to meet someone who was slightly aware of how this situation would affect me, even if he didn’t know I heard him. All the men I’d met so far in life thought ‘perspective taking’ meant forcing everyone else to see things their way.
As he left, sorrow stabbed deeply within my heart. I wanted him to stay, but there was nothing I could say or do. Sleep dragged my eyelids lower, then I dreamed once more.
Buy it on Amazon or read free on KU, here.