Black Gloves
by TheEvangelion (ao3)
Chapter 1
Andrea was painfully nondescript about the nature of Obsidian North’s research. She had however gone to the trouble of accompanying the medical flight that delivered the alien—Kara, according to the forms, though Lena knew that was likely a pseudonym—to the L-Corp facility in person.
From what Lena could gather about Andrea’s endeavours over the last two weeks… something about metal hypersensitivity, red kryptonite compounds, naturally-occurring chemicals that could alter the patient’s state of mind. These substances had completely left the patient’s system, Lena had thoroughly been assured, but Andrea still felt it pressing to discuss any possible contraindications in person.
“The restraints and spit hood. You’re sure that’s necessary?” Lena had murmured to Andrea in surprise when orderlies carted Kara past them on the way to the laboratory. “She’s here voluntarily?”
“Not voluntarily, she waived her consent and therein is an important distinction. Just because she cannot sue doesn’t mean she is a willing patient by any stretch of the imagination. The red kryptonite has left her system but residual bouts of aggression… another day or two,” Andrea explained, still wearing light green scrubs underneath her jacket as though the matter of clinical data collection had carried her to wheels-up. “You’re the last camp before home-time for our girl. You understand the decontamination protocol?”
“No trackers, no follow-up unless it’s through the appropriate channel, and if anyone with government ID should ever ask questions…” Lena smiled knowingly and adjusted her stethoscope. “Cook the books. You and I were never here, she was never here, we certainly didn’t have this conversation.” She glanced back down to the clipboard, the important transfer signature signed and finalised.
“Very good.” Andrea took the forms, handing more over like a carousel of paperwork. “Her consent waivers. For the next week the alien is yours to do with as you please so long as you send her home in just-about the same condition you received her. For your own sake keep her under the lamps that weaken her powers… you do not want a New Mexico Incident on your hands,” she said. Lena was unsure what that meant.
“New Mexico incident?” Lena furrowed.
“Remember the gas explosion that destroyed Beta Epsilon’s headquarters in—” Andrea stopped, rolling her brown eyes, because it was obvious where the headquarters had been based. “The cleaning lady unplugged the lamps and nobody thought to turn them back on the following morning. Go figure.”
“Well I guess I’ll call you in a few days once she’s on her way home to... wherever it is exactly that she calls home,” Lena assured.
“Do.” Andrea left it at that.
The Kryptonian was quite the open-secret in the private research community. An alien who passed so well for human that she lived, by all accounts, a very ordinary life when she wasn’t participating in paid clinical trials. Lena almost wanted to apologise for the intrusive and dehumanising nature of her research. She imagined the patient was used to more mundane, run of the mill, blood-works and little more than that, type of procedure. Such tended to be the case with the majority of the aliens who came through her laboratory for paid studies — quite the rude awakening once they understood the invasive nature of the procedures.
It was a necessary evil. Put simply, the hospitals and trauma centres greatly lacked the necessary knowledge to treat the explosion of aliens to this world, and Lena saw it as her mission to write the text-books, establish care protocols, make sure the system work for the newcomers too. Lena had personally overseen the physiological and anatomical analysis of sixteen humanoid species. A world record.
The Kryptonian was certainly going to be the feather in Lena’s cap, the most infamous alien race there was and yet so little was understood or known about their physiology.
Lena felt some determination towards changing that.
***
The lamps do their job as Lena had been assured they would. The alien pulls against her restraints with all her might. Her legs—muscular, tight, flexing and useless—do not budge from the strapped stirrups.
The laboratory is deathly silent except for the odd muffled whimper from the patient, breathy and tearful through the spit hood fastened over her head. The spit guard looks somewhat like a mesh muzzle. It’s the only thing the patient is wearing and yet it hides little to nothing from the doctor’s acutely clinical stare.
“Well Kara if you’re ready,” Lena places the pen torch she’ll need later in the top pocket of her scrubs. “We’ll begin.” She pushes a small reassuring smile at the wiggler.
Lena can see her patient’s expression screwing behind the spit guard, her anguish, a sense of embarrassment that comes in waves and pulses. Lena is disconnected about the matter. She offers no reassurances, there is work to be done, time is ticking, and that is simply that.
“Goodness,” Lena mutters, taking stock of the heavy-packed IV pole by the bed. “And what exactly did Obsidian go and pump you to the eyeballs with…” She grows curious.
Muscle relaxants, light sedatives, saline lines, all of it makes sense and none of it makes sense. Lena thumbs through the intravenous bags like they’re books, putting together the story of the last twenty-four hours — chemically speaking, at least.
“Are you allergic to anything?” Lena poses politely, satisfied that nothing on the agenda will contraindicate with the intravenous drugs. “Well, other than this red compound I’ve heard so much and so little about.” She clicks her pen, ready to jot things down.
If the patient is capable of salient conversation, then she does not let on. Lena watches her chest push-pull, her pupils dilate, jaw flexing, silent and pensive. Lena assumes there’s nothing else beyond the red metal. She snaps on a pair of black latex gloves.
Kara glances at them curiously.
“We were out of blue, that’s all,” Lena explains it away. “It’s not an omen, I promise, you’re in very good hands.”
Lena does a head-to-toe starting with the crown of her blonde scalp, her smooth latex fingers are enough to make Kara flinch away at first. This strikes Lena as strange, the patient is no stranger to research and trials. Her reticence seems out of place, almost. The oddness passes. The doctor’s fingers find the glands beneath her slender jaw, pressing and palpating for tenderness.
“Ah—” Kara winces, her muscles tensing uncomfortably.
“Relax,” Lena is warm but indifferent as she presses either side of the larynx, pressing, touching, getting her fingers up just beneath each ear for leverage. “Good girl, just checking, you can relax now…”
Her smooth fingers work over the collarbones, lifting arms, pressing into the armpit, where she finds an unexpected small lump. It’s the same in the other ditch. This is her first discovery of note: a possible physiological difference in the lymphatic system. It will require a small biopsy to be sure. That’s when Lena remembers Andrea’s words of warning, Kara does not like needles.
Lena decides to come back to it later.
Rib cage next. Lena gives no warning to expect the cold touch of steel. The stethoscope moves around and pauses, moves around and pauses. There is a recorder on the steel tray and Lena tells it all sorts of things: a healthy young woman, sexually mature, athletic build, no dysmorphic features. Kara doesn’t seem to mind about the sensation of the cold stethoscope, she has more pressing issues for her brain to work through if her red cheeks are anything to go by.
In her mind, Lena runs through the things she doesn’t say out loud for the recording. Perky ample-sized breasts, an unblemished complexion, delicate collarbones, an adorable patch of blonde pubic hair that would be so perfect for grabbing and tugging on to make the steely girl yield—
The distinguishable sound of a little moan interrupt Lena’s thought processes.
Lena finds it quite sweet, the way her patient’s little nipples get rock stiff from the routine exam, her blue eyes darting around behind the veil of the spit hood as though she’s embarrassed of the fact. Lena digs the stethoscope against the side of her ribs, the sound of two perfectly healthy lungs gives her no cause for concern. From this angle, her breath grazes against little pink nipples and make them visibly harder.
“The other doctor already did the stethoscope checks,” Kara mumbles when the utensil pushes right over the centre of her chest, revealing her thrumming heartbeat. “Multiple times, too many times,” she complains.
“Ah, what a surprise,” Lena quirks her expression, listening carefully to the thump-thumping heart beneath the breastbone. “The patient does speak after all?” Kara blushes harder at that. Lena just smiles.
“Sometimes.”
“The doctor from before — our work is not shared or collaborative.” Andrea was tight-lipped to a fault about the big picture of Obsidian’s scientific interests. “I don’t know what kind of research you two were… aligned towards. And,” Lena sighs, finally pulling the stethoscope away to hang back over her neck. “It’s probably best it stays that way. Non-disclosures, litigation, private research, you know the rest.” She spins on her little stool and snaps her used gloves off into the trash.
“Doctor?”
“Lena,” she adds.
“Lena—”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand.” Lena smiles and spins back around. “It wasn’t an invitation to use my first-name as salutation. Doctor Lena is informal enough.” It makes the little test-subject shrivel and nod.
“Doctor Lena, why.” Kara halts nervously, glancing down her belly to her thighs, splayed and hooked into stirrups, spread indecently, preserving absolutely nothing in way of her dignity. “Why am I not wearing a gown?” her blue eyes dart back, full of worry.
“Because your modesty would be a hindrance to my work. I need to understand you from the inside out, back to front, that way if someone from your planet needed to be treated in a hospital here on earth—”
“They won’t.” The patient blinks. “We’re not… big hospital frequenters? You know, part of the whole indestructible thing…”
Responsively, viciously almost, Lena presses her thumb into the bruised forearm with cannulas taped inside the crook of the elbow. Kara winces, whimpers, yanks on her restraints with a hard jolt—The ones Lena now finds herself grateful that she didn’t remove—Kara’s expression just becomes tighter with discomfort despite barely any pressure being applied to the cannula site.
“Indestructible, huh?” Lena finally takes her thumb off.
“On my better days.”
“Then to answer your question in a more apropos fashion, the reason you’re not wearing a gown is because I’m contingency planning for your not-better days.” Lena snaps on a new pair of black gloves. “Are you asking because you’re too cold, Kara? I can’t help but notice the goosebumps, the shivers, how stiff your ni—”
“Doctor Lena do you mind if we don’t back and forth?” Kara interrupts with a high-pitched voice, dying in her own embarrassment.
“Not at all.” Lena just smiles. “I’m going to examine your breasts now, Kara. The previous study team informed me of your… nervousness around invasive exams and procedures. I’ll tell you exactly what I’m doing, in extra-extra detail so there’s no surprises.” Lena knew exactly what game she was playing.
The patient was undeniably aroused, that too was a function of her physiology, a thing that needed to be understood, decoded, dismantled, put back together again. The scientist within her was clinical about these matters, her own arousal was anything but. There was a war being fought within herself. A war being fought within Kara too if her deep, unsteady breaths were anything to go by.
“Lucky me,” Kara clears her throat.
Lena starts gently, pressing, massaging small circles with the pads of her fingers through ever-changing focal points of breast tissue, checking for anything of interest, revelling in the sound of measured tight breaths stifling beneath the patient’s ribs.
“I.” Kara inhales, exhales, embarrassed. “I don’t think this is necessary—”
“Just relax, just let me do my job.” Lena captures a nipple between her thumb and pointer finger, hard. “There’s a good girl, slow steady breaths for me please.”
(Kara’s POV to follow next.)
Chapter 2
This doctor is more attractive than the others, Kara thinks. There was a butch doctor a few months ago—straw blonde hair, square-jawed, flat chested and muscular—but she seemed to only be interested in the heat-vision power. Whether it gave off a radioactive signature, what it was capable of destroying, that kind of thing.
Square-jaw had barely looked up from the clipboard between Kara’s demonstrations of her powers, barely made eye-contact despite Kara’s private craving for it. But this one—Doctor Lena, the prefix had been made painfully clear—keeps looking at her with such intensity that Kara wants to run away and hide from it — desperately.
Doctor Lena isn’t butch either, or close to her own age for that matter. She’s in her mid-thirties at least, Kara thinks. It’s different from what Kara normally finds attractive. The doctor has long jet black hair scooped into a pristine ponytail, a sharp jawline softened with high cheekbones and plump crimson lips. Her slender forearms however… Kara can see the muscles faintly flexing. She instinctively looks away for fear of showing any symptom of interest.
“Can the hood come off?” Kara huffs, still unsure why she’s wearing the damn thing. The red kryptonite had long since worn off, there really was no need for the restraints. “I won’t… I won’t cause problems if that’s what you think—”
“Quiet,” Doctor Lena whispers sternly, deep in the middle of something, the pads of her fingers pressing and rubbing around her breast. “Sorry,” she finishes, cheeks pushing into a smile. “What were you asking?”
“Can—” Kara gasps hard and loses her voice, gritting her teeth as her nipples are pinched and rubbed between black latex fingers.
The pressure on her nipples is almost too forceful to be clinical, too rough to be pleasurable alone either, her breasts throb, her chest push-pulls, and when the doctor begins to tug and twist and touch them too hard, something violent snaps deep within Kara’s body.
“The restraints and barriers can come off tonight before you go to sleep.” Doctor Lena takes her fingers off of two sensitive nipples, resting her weight into Kara’s growling, thrashing body until she suddenly calms. “A little residual aggression is to be expected. I just don’t want to be in the firing line, you understand I’m sure.” Doctor Lena pats her bare hip and smiles, as though the demonstration really was no trouble at all.
Then, she’s off again. Kara watches, out of breath, as the whirlwind move around to her cupboards and drawers to collect all manner of things. Her thighs are trembling, her belly is sore from constant clenching, but most of all she can feel the heat and wetness between her legs, hoping desperately that the doctor hasn’t noticed and won’t take it up with decided interest.
Though if she did… Kara isn’t sure she would be entirely opposed.
When Doctor Lena returns from her shopping trip, Kara glances and takes stock of the items being laid out on the trays beside the bed. Foam echocardiogram pads, metal surgical equipment that Kara doesn’t dare appraise, and worst of all, glinting needles in their sterile packaging.
“Please no needles?” Kara groans.
“Don’t panic, just relax,” Doctor Lena is warm and firm, her steady hand settling on her bare belly. “Do you know I did my internship on a pediatric ward? Best in my class. They used to call me the tantrum whisperer.”
“I’m not a child,” Kara grumps from behind her spit hood.
“No, you’re not,” Doctor Lena sighs and begins to peel the backs off the cardiac monitor pads, placing them in determined spots around the ribs. “But you are scared of needles and that… is somewhat of an expertise of mine. You should consider yourself lucky.”
“Yes. So lucky.”
“How much do you get for these studies again? Must be a hell of a payday.” Doctor Lena smirks, placing another ECG pad below the breast. Kara flinches at the unexpected coldness. “5th intercostal space, midclavicular line. This one helps detect ST segment elevation, which is a marker for myocardial infarction…” The doctor taps the spot on her ribs and explains everything and nothing, simultaneously. “You just be a good girl and let me take good care of you.”
Kara says nothing in response, blinking and trying to decipher a word of what had been uttered. The doctor just grins briefly, her teeth beaming and pearlescent, then she sighs and begins to connect wires to the heart monitor.
“It’s a very fancy way of saying I’m taking every precaution, just to be sure, just to be very very careful that you’re not under too much stress.” The doctor promises, and when the wires are connected and keys are tip-tapped on the machine, the room fills with fast-paced beeps. The doctor looks at the screen and analyses it. “We’ll let your heart settle down and then we can negotiate some local anaesthetic.”
“Local anaesthetic?” Kara balks.
“There’s a lump right here that I want to get to,” Doctor Lena doesn’t glance away from the monitor, just expertly presses her fingers below the armpit and presses into a somewhat tender spot. “It requires a big needle. The little anaesthetic needle just stops the big needle from sucking. This is me being kinder to you than I am required to be. My advice would be that you don’t spoil yourself.”
“But all needles hurt,” Kara pouts and strains against the padded restraints that keep her taut and fixed in place.
“No little princess.” The word makes her cunt throb out of nowhere, her muscles losing all of their tension. “Needles never hurt anyone, only a doctor in a bad mood ever did.” Lena pushes a small, unbothered smile.
The needles are left on the tray. Doctor Lena pulls a spot lamp around on its creaking wheels and adjusts the arm. When the bright light hits Kara’s most sensitive parts, illuminating every tiny crevice and private spot, a flood of heat devouring her vulva, she strains and tugs harder against the straps than before.
“No, no. Don’t do that,” Doctor Lena says calmly as she scoots her stool in between stirruped thighs. “There’s nothing to be scared of or embarrassed about, certainly no needles anywhere near here.” She places the flat of her latex palm into the straining puffy slit.
“I—” Kara feels and hears her pulse fastening on the monitor, embarrassed and humiliated, desperate for the nice doctor to not see what a mess she’s made. “I don’t consent to any exams down there, Doctor Lena.”
“Princess you don’t have to,” Doctor Lena murmurs, completely calm and unbothered, adjusting the height of the stool, pulling over her tray of tools. “I have your waivers and I don’t need to justify the long list of reasons why it’s necessary. But, that isn’t to say I have any intention of being indeliberate or rough with you.” Her radiant smile does nothing to soothe this time.
“You’ll…” Kara inhales and holds it. “You’ll be gentle?”
“I’ll be very, very gentle with you,” The doctor promises. “Just the outside parts to start. You just lie back and be quiet, I’ll talk you through everything I’m doing down here princess.”
(Lena’s POV to follow next)
Chapter 3
TW: Dub-con/interrogation/high-key humiliation/clinical/dark-ish fic
A routine pelvic exam. When black latex fingers push deeply into her mound, palpating, checking externally for anything different, it’s enough to make the girl whimper the tiniest pained sob.
“Am I hurting you?” Lena glances up, her voice warm but indifferent, her pushing fingers instantly settle into a smooth flat palm on the top of her bucking mound.
“No,” Kara mutters, blushing and tearful.
“No what?”
“No Ma’am.” Lena would have settled for doctor or even just her plain given name, but she decides this is more than sufficient too.
“I need you to stop bucking your hips,” Lena instructs.
“I… I can’t.”
“Why can’t you?”
“I just…” Kara pauses, and she seems ashamed all of a sudden. “I can’t, Ma’am.”
“You’re going to make it more likely that you bruise yourself if you keep fighting against the restraints.” The scientist is forthright in her take. “Do you need a minute before we continue?” Lena offers.
“Are you—” Kara inhales, forcing herself to be unemotional. “Are you going to go… inside?”
“Yes,” Lena says point-blank, her fingers pushing back into the smooth flesh over her mound to feel for anything unusual. “But I’ll let you know when that’s going to happen, for now we’re just checking externally.”
“Will it hurt?”
“As a rule of thumb in my line of work I never say never but… probably not.” Lena smiles, she presses her shoulder into the shaking thigh beside her for extra leverage. It goes some tiny way to calming the girl down, Lena registers the release of tension. “Good girl,” she hums.
Her thumbs pull open the labia minora, pulling them this way, that way, spreading them until she can see the tiny flexing hole that had done an excellent job at hiding from her up until now. The troublemaker just inhales and holds it, inhales and holds it, as though she’s unlearned the art of exhaling.
“Don’t make me intubate you,” Lena glances and warns, jokingly. “I’m not above it.”
All of the air rushes out of Kara’s lungs at once.
“Much better,” Lena mutters quietly and turns her attention back to the little pink folds on her thumbs. “I was kidding, but much better…”
“You… you can go inside now, if you want to,” the patient mumbles.
“Well, it’s always nice to know when a patient and I are on the same team.” Lena doesn’t want to correct her in this instance, because truth be told, she doesn’t need the girl’s permission or go-ahead, but… it’s nice having it anyway.
When her digits press inside the tiny slick hole, she’s met with a small bit of resistance, tight and unexpected, before Lena can register the membranous tissue, her two fingers have already broke past the hymen to the first knuckle.
“Ah—ow!” Kara tries to steer her hips away.
“Okay, alright,” Lena soothes, glancing down to see a tiny bit of blood coating her black gloves with slickness. “Don’t run away, bring your hips back—” The doctor takes her with a firm hand and keeps her just there, then reaches for a piece of gauze. “Good girl. There’s a good, good girl. I know it stings, just breathe and let it pass.”
“It really hurts,” the girl sniffles.
“I bet it does,” the doctor agrees but doesn’t catastrophize, dabbing and pressing into where she knows it’s sore. “Did you not think to mention you’re a virgin?” Kara shakes her head at that. “It would have been helpful if you did…”
“I didn’t want to seem like… you know.”
“No, I don’t know.”
“A virgin.”
“But you are a—”
“Fine, I didn’t want to seem like a loser.” Kara seems to hide behind the spit-guard now, blushing and crimson.
“Well now you seem like someone who is in a certain amount of pain that was very easily avoidable,” Lena doesn’t give her an inch or quarter, holding the gauze firmly. “Just another minute, then it will pass—” She pulls the gauze away a little to check.
The girl is soaking wet.
Lena brushes through the spread labia with her latex thumb just to be certain. Kara is so slick, so hot, so wet and flexing. Her gleaming mound is puffy and unnaturally white beneath the spot lamp. Lena imagines how hot it must feel, so exposed, so vulnerable with her legs all strapped-up out of the way.
Did she want fingers pressing too deep and too sudden inside of her vagina? Lena thinks so. Her clitoris is engorged and swollen, almost throbbing under her tight little hood.
Lena blinks and notices just how tight her hood really is.
“Does it hurt if I touch you here?” She presses her pointer finger into the tiny bundle of nerves. Kara whimpers, eyes snapping shut while her legs try their hardest to close. “Okay, alright, just relax—” Lena tries to manually retract her hood with a pushing finger. No dice.
It just makes Kara cry out a little louder, wince a little harder.
“I don’t think you’re going to like what I’m about to tell you.” Lena pats her vulva, then swivels on her chair to throw the gauze and change her gloves.
“That you’re planning on doing something down there that I’m really not going to like?”
Bingo, Lena thinks.
“Well, I’ll give you something to help you relax,” The doctor reassures, clipped and clinical. “But I’m willing to bet you find it quite painful to touch yourself—”
“Do we have to be vulgar?”
“What was vulgar about that?” Lena blinks and scoots back between Kara’s thighs. “It’s perfectly normal for women to masturbate. I’m assuming from the discomfort down here…” She pushes against the tight hood of her clit once again just to be sure, and it only earns a tight pained whimper. “That you haven’t been able to experiment too much at all.”
“Maybe,” Kara quietly admits it.
“I can fix that.” The doctor feels determined. “But, you’re going to have to be a very good girl and try your best not to wiggle too much.”
“Will it hurt?” Kara asks, reticent and unsure.
“Yes,” Lena doesn’t skip a beat. “But only a tiny bit, and I promise it will feel so much better afterwards. I’ll show you, you’ll see.”
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Chapter 4
When the medical drape goes over the patient’s hips and belly, the iodine gauze rubbed around her clitoris and swept through the vulva, Lena hears the distinct sound of a quickening heartbeat on the monitor. She finds it cute, somewhat. The restrained patient who came in kicking and spitting has largely relaxed, the intravenous diazepam doing its job, but her heartbeat betrays her, thump-thumping with just a bit too much excitement at the pressure and contact around her pretty sensitive parts.
“What are you going to do again, Doctor?” Kara asks, her big breaths sucking the thin mesh of the spit guard against her lips.
The clinical terms are a little too aggressive in this instance, Lena thinks. The prepuce and hood are too tight around the nerve underneath, which is probably the cause of all the discomfort and pain on direct contact.
The best solution would be a minor surgical procedure, administer local anaesthetic, a very small incision through the hood to treat the phimosis and allow the hood to retract easier. But, Lena doesn’t feel like fighting her patient the hard way around. She’s confident with forceps, a little coaxing, and manual retraction that she can gain the same, if not better results.
No needles, no need for anaesthetic.
“Do you understand how your clitoris and vagina—”
“Do you have to be so vulgar?” Kara says it again, blushing and nervous. “But, no, I’ve never really needed to know about any of that stuff. Where I come from we just wait until marriage. Nobody talks about anything birds and the bees related, we just... don’t do that.”
“Good to know the sex-ed on Krypton is second to none,” Lena murmurs to herself, snapping on a clean pair of black latex gloves. “Well to explain things a little better, when a woman is sexually aroused blood engorges the clitoris and vulva because of all the nervous tissue down here. In your case, because your prepuce is so tight, that’s where the pain is coming from when you get aroused. I’m going to manually retract—”
“I don’t know what that means.” Kara blinks. “Can you… can you dumb all of it down?”
“I’m going use a very small pair of forceps to help stretch the hood just a tiny little bit.” Lena gently touches the parts she’s talking about as she speaks, applying context where Kara has had none before. “You won’t feel too much of it because of the lidocaine—” Lena holds up a small tube, giving the numbing cream a name. “And then I’m going to use my fingers and help coax it back all the way.” She glides her fingers gently over her hood a few millimetres. “It might have to stay pushed back for a while so that it doesn’t tighten up again, but that won’t feel painful, it will just feel a little more sensitive down there than it normally does.”
“Oh.” Kara swallows, blue eyes wide as saucers. “Okay, thank you, that—that makes more sense.”
“The important thing is that you won’t be in any pain down there anymore once I’m all finished, I promise. You will be able to enjoy sex and self-pleasure.” Lena lightly pats her belly. “And I won’t tell Krypton if you don’t.”
“That, that sounds interesting.” Kara blushes. “Thank you.”
“Thank you?” Lena raises a brow.
“For helping me,” her voice barely hovers above a whisper. “I, er, I do find it painful between my legs. I just figured that was normal, that maybe I was just kinda wimpy.”
“Have you ever had an orgasm before, Kara?”
“Ex-excuse me?”
The doctor pushes a small smile and speaks firmly, “If you haven’t had one before then some of my checks afterwards might feel strange.” Lena pops the lid from the lidocaine and coats her gloved fingers. “Strange doesn’t mean bad, it just means different from anything your body might have felt before.”
“What are your checks down there going to be?” Kara stifles a tiny noise as a thick coating of lidocaine is rubbed over her hood, then swiped this way and that way through her vulva and the surrounding area.
There’s something adorable about the way her belly twitches, Lena thinks. She’s slow as she puts the lidocaine on, a bit too precious about it maybe. She strokes it on gently, dabs it, doesn’t apply too much pressure to the clitoris in case it causes any discomfort or pain.
Slowly, Kara’s belly push-pulls a bit harder. Lena isn’t sure if it’s discomfort or maybe even arousal on the brink 0f itself, but she knows the patient is presently oversensitive and excruciatingly self-aware of her body. A few minutes and the lidocaine will dampen that, the doctor is certain.
“Don’t be nervous if it feels a little hot and tingly down here for a sec, that’s just the lidocaine working.” Lena pats a restrained thigh hung over the stirrups. “But yes, my checks afterwards. I’ll check your sensitivity range, stimulate everything down here just to make sure nothing hurts anymore. If you’re very, very good I might just let you take it for a test-drive and show you the ropes.” She smiles up the bed. “I still have to check inside, I certainly don’t want that to be uncomfortable for you.”
“A test-drive?”
“Well,” the doctor sighs, “Your sex pathways are of research value to me: understanding what feels good, how your erogenous system compares, whether there’s any physiological differences…” Lena recoats another thick layer of lidocaine over her clitoris, and she can’t help but notice that the patient is far less twitchy and sensitive this time. “I’m assuming you’ve never really enjoyed being touched down here before. I’m hoping that won’t be a problem once I’m finished. So, if you’re good, I’ll turn a blind eye if anything feels... particularly stimulating for you.”
“Doctor,” Kara’s voice sounds quiet as a mouse, her chest push-pulling nervously. “I... think I would like that, a lot. If you did do that, I mean. Touching me.” She comes over flush and nervous.
“Something to motivate your very best behaviour then,” Lena’s tone remains clipped and curt, but on the inside, privately, she’s a little turned on too.
Lena feels that the micro-procedure is just a pro bono favour more than anything else. Kara won’t be in pain anymore, and Lena gets to play with a new toy for a little while. It’ll give her something to masturbate to tonight, she thinks, but nothing more than that. She would never let eroticism factor into her headspace in a real medical setting, but this is paid private research, and Kara is not a real patient as such — just a paid voluntary participant. An incredibly beautiful one, innocent, all tied up, in need of expert hands to fix all of her problems whether she likes it or not…
Lena takes some amount of pleasure in her God complex.
“Lie all the way down,” Lena instructs. “I do not want to see your head crane up again while I’m working Princess. If I do, Obsidian North were kind enough to leave the head strap for me...” Lena glances at the white leather straps either side of Kara’s head that had been left just so.
“Yes Ma’am,” Kara settles instantly.
“I like how polite and deferential you are,” Lena murmurs. “Keep at it, please. It’s very endearing.”
Chapter 5
Kara couldn’t recall anything more embarrassing, arousing—or frightening for that matter—having ever happened to her. Doctor Lena was older, full of a control complex, a little ruthless and dominant if truth be told, but despite her own nervousness Kara felt this was the best paid study she had done so far.
Sex wasn’t something people talked about where she came from, and when she came to this planet it was stark and strange how sex was all anyone seemed to actually talk about. Kara wasn’t a prude, not really at least, but it was hard joining in when she had no idea where to start.
She had tried to touch herself a few times, it felt nice in the beginning, but then it would get too painful and uncomfortable as though someone were pinching the little bundle of nerves at the top of her lips with all their might. It felt like a dirty secret — just not one that she could apparently keep from Doctor Lena’s clinical gaze.
“You’re going to feel some pressure down here, princess. It might be a little painful but it shouldn’t be unmanageable. On a pain scale of one to ten, I want you to warn me if you start getting towards a six. If you do, we’re going to stop and take a break.”
“Okay Doctor Lena,” Kara swallowed and stared at the white ceiling.
When the pretty doctor calls her princess, Kara cannot make sense of the effect it has over her. It makes her feel small and manageable. It makes her feel pretty. It makes her feel turned on in a way she isn’t sure she’s felt before.
But, she’s been given strict instructions to keep her head down and not look at what’s happening. Kara feels left to her own devices, staring at the ceiling through the mesh spit guard, hyper-aware of her restrained body now that she’s lost eyes on the doctor. She feels her smooth, gliding latex fingers exploring her lips and gently prying them apart. The sound of creaking wheels scooting forward tells Kara that Doctor Lena is coming closer, ready to work. Kara feels her ticklish breath on every exhale blowing against her privates.
“A little pinch,” the doctor warns.
Kara braces, and despite the promises, despite the threat of what would be the consequence, she discreetly peers down her belly at what’s happening. Doctor Lena clamps one of her lips with a medical forcep, with every click Kara feels the pressure bite deeper, but it isn’t painful. Kara watches the doctor clamp her other labia. The second one hurts a little more than the first, a pinch just like the doctor told her to expect. Kara puts her head all the way back and closes her eyes, embarrassed by her whimper.
“It’s done,” Doctor Lena says, firm and to the point. “All done, you’re okay.”
The forcep clamps make her throb. Doctor Lena secures them with surgical tape to each of her restrained thighs. Kara can feel her working, pulling her sensitive parts agape and separate, breaths tickling her little cunt on every exhale, crooning sympathetic noises when Kara shifts uncomfortably against stirrups that will not let her go despite all her wiggling.
There’s a surgical lamp pointed between her legs, and Kara can’t help but become suddenly aware of the bright heat burning down on her spread open cunt. It isn’t painful, it’s simply hot, and it’s a heat that doesn’t go away, it sits there and focuses her attention right on the place she’s trying desperately to ignore and block out.
“Two,” Kara hums.
“Two what?” Doctor Lena replies.
“Two, Ma’am.”
“No, no princess.” Doctor Lena laughs at that. “I’m asking what you mean, not for you to call me Ma’am.”
“You said about the pain scale thing, you told me to let you know.”
“Good girl you were listening.” Kara feels a slippery latex palm rub her mound. “But, I told you to let me know when you’re getting close to a six. Two isn’t very close to six. We don’t need a break yet, or do we?”
“No Ma’am, I’m okay.”
“I do like that you’re checking in anyway. Can you keep doing that for me?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Kara nods.
“You don’t have to call me Ma’am every time — not if you don’t want to.” The doctor doesn’t seem to express a preference.
“I know,” Kara whispers through the spit-guard. “I just want to.”
“Okay princess.” A gentle hand rubs the top of her mound again. “You’re being a very, very good girl for me.”
Fuck, Kara feels her cunt throb in an entirely different way. The doctor seems to notice, she doesn’t touch, she doesn’t let on, she just laughs. Kara clenches her eyes and blushes with embarrassment, but the doctor just giggles slightly under her breath as though she’s in on a joke, one that Kara can’t see but suspects, because she can feel herself getting wetter.
“Does it still feel a little painful if I do this?” Kara feels a slight amount of pressure against her clitoris.
She glances down her body again. Her thighs are spread taut in the cranked stirrups, her vulva spread with medical clamps, and the doctor has her thumb pressed into her clitoris. It’s uncomfortable but not painful, and Kara doesn’t know how to make sense of that. It feels tight like it always does when she’s turned on, but it’s a more muted sensation than it normally is. Sore, but not sharp.
“It’s just a little uncomfortable,” Kara clears her throat.
She wants to ask the doctor to rub her there, desperately, quickly, hard, make it feel better, please, please, please.
She doesn’t dare.
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Chapter 6
The spread thighs stirruped either side of her body shiver in a different kind of way than before. It’s nervous, anticipatory, but Lena is absolutely certain that Kara is not in any considerable amount of pain. She presses her clitoris in alternate pressures, tapping, pushing, and then she circles slightly, testing the pliability of her tight little hood.
Still, no dice.
When her thumb presses into her girl’s clitoris a little harder, it earns a responsive shiver, then verbal confirmation that it’s only a tiny bit uncomfortable this time. The lidocaine has kicked in, Lena notes to herself. Then, in her calm way, Lena reassures that the next sensation will be a little painful, but the sensation will pass very quickly.
She all but promises it.
Surprisingly, Lena notices that the warning seems to undeniably arouse Kara; her manipulated, stretched, taut little lips glistening under the examination lamp. Lena watches her pelvis buck ever so slightly. Then, Kara settles her bottom back down on the table as though exhaling all of her butterflies. Lena just smiles and pats the top of her mound, ready to begin.
“When I say, I want you to take a big breath for me,” Lena instructs, her tone clinical and clipped as she double-checks her tiniest pair of smooth, dull forceps. “You’re going to feel something slip underneath your hood, and that might feel a little bit painful, but by the time you’ve slowly exhaled it won’t be too intense. You just remember what I said, when we get to six we’re going to take a break, okay?”
“Okay Doctor Lena,” Kara nods, relaxing her body as best she can.
“Good girl,” Lena praises with a murmur, her hand pressing down into the flesh of her patient’s mound to hold her steady. “Big breath in…”
The locking forceps she’s selected wouldn’t be amiss in an ENT’s office, ideal for only the tiniest and most delicate parts of the anatomy. Lena is careful and precise, slipping the closed forceps approximately two to three milimetres between her patient’s hood and clitoris. It makes the air rush from Kara’s lungs with an almighty exhale, crying suddenly as her most private, hidden, untouched little organ has the cool contact of metal against it.
“Okay, you’re okay,” Lena hushes, digging her palm deeper into her mound to keep her just so. “I know it’s uncomfortable, take another deep breath, I promise this is the most uncomfortable part and it won’t last very long, you’re being such a good girl.”
“It feels…” Kara huffs for air, trembly, but not jerking. “Ma’am, it feels intense…”
“I bet it does,” Lena murmurs in agreement, appraising the stuffed little hood on the end of her forceps. “Just relax, just let it be uncomfortable for a moment, you’re going to feel so much better when we’re done, I promise.”
“Yes Ma’am, I’ll do whatever you say,” Kara whispers, throaty and husking.
Lena detects the arousal in her voice. She is uninterested by it in this moment. The clinician is consumed only with getting the job done in the most efficient, gentle way possible — there can be no room for subtext or emotion. When Kara catches her breath, Lena resumes the business of making her patient’s little problem area all better again, unbothered and unconcerned with anything else.
Lena only needs to stretch the prepuce with one tiny click of her forceps, she can see the reaction from that little millimeter increment radiate through nearly every part of her patient’s body. Kara’s thighs shake, her belly push-pulling, toes curling and flexing, her hooded head coming up off of the pillow and then sharply falling back down, panting.
There is work to be done, and Lena cannot concern herself with the outward symptoms of discomfort beyond only the most necessary reassurances. “Good girl, nearly there, you’re doing such a good job.” Lena murmurs and repeats it almost in the absence of herself, tilting her forceps upwards slightly to gauge just how much wiggle room she has at this angle.
“Five and a half!” Kara bursts when the forceps tilt a little too high.
“Good girl,” Lena instantly brings them back down to a more comfortable position. “That’s a good, good girl, if I hold them here can you manage?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Kara inhales and then exhales, inhales and exhales, calming herself. “Thank you, Ma’am. Can I…” She stops, almost unnaturally.
“Don’t worry,” Lena whispers knowingly, her latex palm slipping up and over her patient’s mound to rub her belly. “We can take a break, you don’t have to be embarrassed—”
“No, no Ma’am.” Kara interrupts, the unsteadiness of her breaths still sucking the material of her mesh spit-guard against her lips. “I was—I was going to ask if I can I try again?”
“Deferential and determined.” Lena lifts her brows, impressed. “Careful, princess, you’re going to make me soft on you if you keep that up.”
When she tilts the forceps upwards this time, Lena does it as slowly and gently as her hand will allow. Lena can see the outward symptoms of discomfort, the tell-tale clench of muscle, then the sounds of little grunts struggling through clenched teeth.
When she begins to lower her angle, allowing the poor little stretched hood between her patient’s legs to retract again, the troublemaker speaks before any insinuations can be made.
“You can keep going,” Kara huffs, a woman renewed. “It’s… it’s intense but it’s not a six, Ma’am. I can take it.”
“Okay princess, alright. I’m going to try and push your hood all the way back now.” Lena leans forward and gets her shoulder against her patient’s strapped thigh for leverage, her hands delicate and careful. “You’re going to feel a little stretch, and then it shouldn’t feel uncomfortable after that.”
“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll try.”
“I’m in the habit of rewarding good girls, Kara, and I’m pleased to report that you are racking up quite the prize pool.”
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Chapter 7
“Ma’am—” Kara shifts so hard that Lena has to press her palms as deep as she can into her pelvis to stop her pulling the clamps and accoutrements loose. “Doctor Lena,” Kara whimpers nervously.
“Okay, just breathe, can you tell me which thing is hurting too much or do we need to stop completely?”
“Not hurting.” Kara shakes her head. “I just, I just can’t hold it much longer.”
“Hold what?” She can’t be talking about an orgasm, Lena thinks.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Kara mumbles. “I’m—I’m going to wet myself.”
“Oh honey,” Lena winces, cursing herself for forgetting that part. “You don’t need to worry about that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well with this red compound that Obsidian were working with you on that heightens your aggression, I did tell you that we wouldn’t be removing the restraints until it’s all worn off tomorrow.” Lena remains calm and steadfast on the matter. “That means no potty breaks, princess.”
When Lena stands up, she only has to shoot the patient one firm look in order to let her know that wiggling and fighting her restraints would be a regrettable decision. It’s received with a quiet, solemn nod. Lena accepts this as compliance, bending to the cart for a bed pan and an absorbent pad. When she stands up again and the troublemaker spots the items in her hands, she feels the headache on the brink of itself already.
“Please Doctor, no. I don’t want to do that.” Kara shakes her head.
“I don’t know…” Lena sighs. “You really think you can hold it until tomorrow morning?”
“I don’t want to do that. Please, there has to be something else?”
The first choice would have been a catheter. This was Lena trying to be nice and obliging, if only because the troublemaker was in a certain amount of pain and discomfort already and Lena didn’t want to add to the pot. Slowly, she put the things back and reached for the sterile packaging.
“Are you going to be a good girl and let me put it in without hitting the ceiling?” She raises a stern eyebrow. “I need you to be very sure, because if you’re going to panic then I would rather put the bed pan between your legs and give you a moment.”
“Well… what about if I need to go to the bathroom later on or in the middle of the night?”
“I can make you comfortable tonight with some absorbent underwear—”
“I’m not wearing a diaper to bed.” Kara glares.
“Well then.” Lena pushes a curt smile and sits back down between the stirrups. “Catheter it is. I’ll be as gentle as I can, but you’re going to have to stay very still. My hands are going to be occupied, and if you pull one of these clamps off—” Her fingers slide over the forceps pulling her pretty lips tight and taut. “You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’ll be good, Ma’am, I promise.” Kara’s hips lifted slightly with desperation.
Her gloves are changed with a snap once again. Lena works quickly, ordered and methodical. Things are prepared, a small absorbent sheet placed beneath Kara’s bottom, the area sterilised, the equipment lubricated and double-checked just to be sure she had a small enough foley.
Lena watches her tiniest hole flex and strain, holding, desperate, and woefully unprepared for intrusion. The doctor tries not to concern herself too much with this. The tip is inserted gently yet takes her girl by surprise just as she knew it would.
“The diaper. Fuck! The diaper, the diaper, this feels too weird!”
“You’re nearly there,” Lena reassures and presses her palm deep into the patient’s mound for leverage. “Can you take just a little more? Almost there, princess, I promise.”
Slowly, she feels Kara’s tense hips soften back into the bed.
“Good girl, you’re being such a good girl,” she whispers and threads it deeper inside. “Okay, this part is going to feel a little bit uncomfortable. You’re going to take a deep breath and hold it, and when I tell you to exhale we’ll be done when you’re finished breathing out.”
“Okay Ma’am.” Kara nods.
“Breathe all the way in,” Lena instructs. “Now breathe out.”
When Kara’s chest begins to slowly sink back in, Lena pushes the catheter through the proximal urethra, a bottleneck to the bladder where the tip needs to be inflated. It makes Kara hiss and grit her teeth, but then it passes just as quickly as it came.
“Good girl, all done.” Lena rubs her belly.
Her labia must be so sensitive and blood-deprived, Lena is certain of it. They’re pulled in either direction, the forcep clamps giving them no inch or quarter. Then there’s her tight, swollen clitoris — so close to being free from beneath that little hood. The catheter compounds all of it, invades her from the inside-out until everything is sore, sensitive, touched and prodded. Almost as reward, Lena presses her thumb into the whimperer’s clitoris, not rubbing, not circling, just pressing in alternate pressures again.
“Poor baby,” Lena murmurs, managing to move the hood back just a little further than she got last time.
“Doctor Lena?” Kara whispers, nervous and blushing. “It… it feels better when you do that. Whatever it is you’re doing, I mean—” She stops, barely stifling her gasp when the clinician rewards her.
“You’ll feel better so soon,” Lena promises, allowing her thumb to circle and stroke. “But.” It’s taken away again, her gloves systematically snapped off and changed. “We have work to do yet.”
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Chapter 8
When Lena finally gets that tight little hood all the way back, it’s without fanfare or hiccuping tears, the whimperer just calmly nods for Lena to keep going, and Lena obliges with a somewhat forceful press of her finger.
She obliges despite wanting to draw it out, she obliges despite wanting to let her black latex fingers slip and watch the hood slip comfortably back over the untouched gland. But she doesn’t, she resists her soft sadistic urge to make the girl whimper just a little bit more — granting her little patient freedom.
“There we go princess—” Lena keeps the little retracted hood pushed all the way back with a slippery fingertip. “You were such a very good girl, Kara.”
Kara can’t help but writhe and roll her hips uncomfortably, huffing, breathing deep, her hips trembling a little bit. The clinician understands that this is not a response to pain. The girl is simply processing these new sensations between her legs, the cool breeze of the air-conditioning on her newly exposed nerve, the air touching it, her clitoris finally allowed to engorge and throb and swell without the stinging tightness of her rigid little hood.
“Do I get a lollipop?” Kara finally jokes when her breathing steadies.
“Maybe two,” Lena smiles, rubbing her belly with her free hand. “Nothing is hurting too much down here, yes?”
“Not too much, Ma’am.” Kara nods. “Just… very, very sensitive.”
“Very sensitive can be an exceptionally good thing too, you’ll see princess. In time, all in good time.” Lena is warm but indifferent as she reaches for the small clip from her tray.
The tiny clip could not be described as an unyielding medical object. It wouldn’t bite, it wouldn’t press too hard into Kara’s sensitive little nerve. Simply, Lena intended on securing the pushed-back tiny folds of her hood above the clitoris — preventing it from slipping back over and instantly tightening up again.
It also didn’t go amiss upon Lena that her little patient would suffer in other ways as a result.
The clinician couldn’t help but imagine her girl waking up in the middle of the night; secured and restrained to her bed, hot and bothered between her legs, aching in some places, tingling in others, unable to rub that tiny little new toy between her legs.
Kara would lay there and twist her hips, feeling the cool air touch her exposed little clit, feeling the pressure of the little clip pressing ever so slightly downwards into her nerve when she moved in certain ways. A desperate poor little thing just begging to come undone, utterly thirsting for a nice hard ruining.
Lena considers the pull-out sofa in her office next door for a moment. Perhaps, perhaps, she thinks.
“A little pressure now, Kara.” Lena places the clip and makes her hood stay put out of the way. “There we go, all done. It’s all done now, brave girl.”
Lena leans back on her stool and appraises her handiwork.
The puffy little cunt in front of her is spread taut and clamped. She wants to rub her fingers around the pulled, throbbing little labia. She wants to chide and humiliate her test-subject for being so wet and slippery, the mere thought makes her throb in good places.
The intrusion inside the urethra must be compounding the emptiness of that flexing little desperate hole, she thinks. Lena can’t help but wonder what it feels like—the sensations she knows that Kara is far too polite and measured to openly admit—how good her clitoris suddenly feels, how she can feel her hole clenching on nothing, and yet somehow the catheter stuck inside of her does nothing but remind that her most intimate parts do not belong to her in this moment — they’re property of L-Corp for the next few days.
Lena has the paperwork and signatures to prove it.
“Ma’am, if you wanted to touch me…” Kara whispers throatily, unsure of herself or how to explain politely. “If you wanted to show me that test-drive, I would like that.”
“You would?” Lena says it with an air of buoyant shock, as though the statement is rather whorish and yet she doesn’t mind in the slightest. “You’re sure that’s what you want, princess? You said yourself that you’re a virgin, are you sure you want a complete stranger—one in a position of authority over you no less—to give you that experience?” Her tone is dropped to a low, serious tone.
She can see Kara’s cheeks blushing, and then her cunt suddenly seems to rise off the bed a little bit as though it’s the only thing she truly wants — desperately, without the ability to deny it.
“Do you think it would make me a slut?” Kara whispers.
“I think it would make you a very self-aware, self-possessed, bold little woman of steel.” Lena wiggles her eyebrows as she slips a surgical mask behind her ears. “You’ll have to excuse me, I think you’ve had enough reassuring smiles for one day.” She jokes.
“Ma’am,” Kara speaks up all of a sudden, breathy, her lids fluttering. “Can I… Could I make a request?”
“You can, though that isn’t too say I’m inclined to oblige.”
“I’m suddenly feeling a little… aggressive.” Kara licks her lips very calmly, totally passive. “Maybe it’s the residual red-kryptonite, you know? Maybe… maybe you should gag and blindfold me so I don’t get too overstimulated?”
Dirty fucking bitch, Lena thinks to herself with a giddy smile hidden behind her mask.
“Thank you so much for warning me, Kara.” She inhales and steps around the clinical bed, her eyes acutely finding those baby-blues through the translucent mesh of the spit-guard. “You know it’s so very rare that a patient comes up with a sound care plan, and yet I think that sounds like a wonderful idea…”
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Chapter 9
The mesh spit guard had been replaced with a total sensory-depravation white leather full hood, complete with tanned leather buckle straps around the back.
There was a rubber breathing tube that slipped between Kara’s teeth and shallowly inside her mouth, it externally protruded from the mask’s hole for her air intake but provided little more than that as far as her ability to verbally communicate went.
It was now Kara’s only connection to the world beyond her deprived blue eyes and muffled ears. She had nothing more than pitch-black darkness, muffled far away sounds, and the ever-growing awareness of tactility on her exposed, nude body.
Lena checks and tightens the tanned straps around the back of Kara’s head, pulling a bit harder until the leather depravation hood is snug and form-fitting. Now, her little patient couldn’t so much as look at her the wrong way — much less spit.
The doctor feels ready to really put her black latex hands to work.
It’s not as if the poked and prodded little crybaby can meaningfully protest to any of it, Lena thinks almost sadistically.
“Is this what you needed?” Lena cranes down and loudly mutters beside the leather hood, her tone clipped and more clinical than usual. “Such a dirty, unruly, bad patient.” Her slippery fingers trail up and down the center of her girl’s push-pulling bare chest. “Well. Now you’re going to see the full-extent of my bed manner.” She captures and pinches a wrinkling pink nipple stiff and hard, unconcerned by the faceless hisses and moans it elicits through the breathing tube.
The doctor twists both of her nipples between her fingers and thumbs, tugs, pulls, pinches, methodical and deliberate in how she metes discomfort and a little bit of pain.
Responsively, Kara struggles against the restraints that keep her spread and compliant, twisting, tugging, pulling on the straps, all in her own funny little rhythm that seems to match the way Lena forcefully stimulates her nipples.
“Do you know the most reliable method I’ve found to distract an unruly girl who doesn’t want to submit to doctor’s orders?” Lena asks calmly, her lips pressing to the side of the leather hood. “I’ll show you, don’t you worry,” she sighs and pulls away, leaving the patient to her own worries and ruminations.
At that, Lena walks around the lab and positions herself at the far end of the room so she can lean against the wall and take some much needed time to simply admire her handiwork. Lena could hurry proceedings along, of course, but she thinks it far more fun to let the crybaby sit with her own fears and reservations.
The clinician just stands there for minutes, unmoving, unspeaking, staring directly between the open thighs restrained in widely-cranked stirrups either side of the clinical table. Her exposed, spread private parts seem to grow more flush and slick as though the crybaby knows she’s under the doctor’s authoritative gaze. Then she whimpers, all muffled and nervous through her breathing tube, no doubt feeling left too long to her own devices.
Poor little thing, the thought briefly crosses Lena’s mind.
The bright yellow indwelling tube slips from between her taut and pulled apart labia, dripping, emptying, invading the patient from the inside out despite the terrible emptiness in her slickest, most desperate hole.
The next thing Lena notices is the swollen little oversensitive cunt bead almost twitching from the slightest touch of the air conditioning as it swayed back and forth through the room. Such a new and fun little toy to be played with, the doctor felt determined on teaching Kara good things.
All in good time, of course.
For now, the sight of the crybaby shifting, all nervous and scared, felt erotic and sadistically wonderful in and of itself. Kara’s sensory deprived skull lifts from the pillow and tests the minimal slack on the forehead strap, no dice.
Her predicament, or rather the total lack of control and awareness of the outside world, makes Kara begin to doubt herself. Lena can tell clear as day. The way her thighs start to fight the stirrups, her belly pushing out dramatically then sinking back in again, hips beginning to softly twist and grow testy.
The doctor can tell what her study subject is worrying about.
Is she going to hurt me?
What is she doing?
This is taking too long.
There was nothing more nerve wracking than being left with one’s own thoughts, compounded by the inability to communicate them to the outside world in Kara’s case. Lena resists the urge to start proceedings when she hears the tearful whimpers muffle through the hood. Instead, she unbuttons her crisp shirt and takes off her slacks, deciding her surgical scrubs would be much more fitting for the messy, sloppy work she’s about to undertake for the rest of the evening.
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Chapter 10
In her black scrubs, black latex gloves, masked and free to work without curious blue eyes peeking—yet still Kara lifted her tightly-strapped hood against the restraint as though she might catch a glance of the doctor—Lena walked around the restrained patient and checked the buckles, the straps, ghosting her slippery, smooth fingers here and there.
“Poor baby,” Lena mutters loud enough for the patient to hear, glancing at her trembling hips and genitals. “So very sore and swollen between your legs. I wonder how frightening it will be for you to wake up in the middle of the night restrained and spread open, completely sensory-deprived, unable to see anything or tell me where it hurts. In fact, you won’t even be able to see who’s touching and kissing your little cunt…”
Kara begins to writhe, not frantically, as though she’s some combination of aroused beyond words and nervous in equal measure. Lena can’t help but grin beneath her mask. What a good little girl, she thinks to herself, pleased as punch.
“Such a big, big girl down here between your legs.” Lena exhales warm breath against her reddened clitoris, and she can tell Kara’s blushing crimson despite the deprivation hood.
It’s the truth. Her clitoris has swelled like a pretty fat whore-knot now the tightness of the hood isn’t constricting it. As though all the blood in her body is flooding and engorging her freed cunt, Lena can’t remember ever seeing a woman so flush, wet and swollen before.
“I bet it feels so good between your legs, so new, so sensitive—” Lena circles her smooth, slippery pointer finger lightly over the very tip of her clitoris. “There’s my good little girl—stop clenching your belly, stop curling your toes!” Lena takes her finger away.
Kara wails loudly through the breathing tube fastened between her teeth under the leather hood. Her tight belly curling and clenching, her thighs shuddering, like a woman on the edge of herself.
“Poor baby, I know, you just want me to spoil you.” The clinician mutters through her surgical mask.
Lena traces her finger around her open vulva, pressing against the tingly numbness of the forcep clamps that still pry her vagina wide open and vulnerable. It makes Kara cry out, toes flexing.
“If you’re a good girl I think we might be able to let these come off tonight,” Lena says, but she tugs them a little harder, forcing the pretty slick cunt to bare itself a little more indignant and wide for her appraisal. “I can tell it hurts your outside parts, princess, and you were such a good girl letting me do my work right here…” Lena slips her fingers gently over Kara’s exposed, retracted clitoris.
“Please!” A muffled squeal erupts from the breathing tube.
“Does it feel nice, Princess?” Lena coaxes with a clipped, professional tone.
“Yes Ma’am!” Kara’s obscured, leather-masked face gives away no expression and yet her neck flexes desperately against the head strap as though she’s positively ravenous.
“Remember earlier, when I pressed my fingers inside your vagina just a little too hard and fast, and it hurt because nobody had ever touched you there before?” Lena’s voice drops to a low, aroused husk. When Kara’s chest stills with excited anticipation, her breaths no longer push-pulling, Lena accepts it as a symptom of recognition. “That’s good that you remember. This is going to feel a little bit sore, but it won’t hurt as much this time…”
She pressed deep into Kara’s belly with one hand and forced two fingers deep inside her stiflingly tight little cunt with the other. Lena pressed despite the whimper, despite the thighs wiggling in their restraints, all the way inside until she was touching her patient in a way that she had never been touched before—by herself, by anyone else.
Kara’s walls were hot and flexing, made impossibly tighter by the fact she was nervously bearing down on the doctor’s digits. Or, maybe she was just excited. Lena grinned and rubbed her ribs as though she were a tame little animal to be petted.
“Good, good girl.” Lena crooned, hummed, soothing her as though she were a little girl. “You’re being such a good girl, can you feel it when I do this?” She curled gently against the distinct tissue of her g-spot.
Kara’s leather hood began to twist slightly, side to side, and then the distinct noise of breathless little pants escaped the rubbery tube protruding from where her mouth sat beneath the leather.
Then, Kara began to nod frantically.
“Maybe I’ll have to push a speculum inside your little hole.” Lena scissored her latex fingers inside Kara’s cunt, grinning at the way her damp little vulva tried to grind into her palm. “I could lock it open until you felt so positively full. Poor little princess, tossing and turning all night in your restraints, blindfolded, gagged, never sure when you’re going to feel the doctor tug and check on your catheter or open your speculum a little wider…” Lena curls hard and deep into her patient’s g-spot.
She does it hard enough to hurt. She does it hard enough to hook her two fingers into the sensitive gland buried deep in the front wall of Kara’s pretty tight cunt, and then Lena starts to manually examine the fullness, checking how close Kara was to being expressed. It was rough, it was deep, it was violating, and when Kara’s hands slapped the side of the bed rail, Lena barely resisted the urge to force her patient to express her squirt.
“All done,” Lena says, pulling her latex fingers out of Kara’s slippery little cunt hole as though it were a chore. “There’s my good girl. Just breathe, just let the tension go—” Lena rubs her swollen, sensitive clitoris with her thumb.
Kara’s body seems to slacken and deflate as though there wasn’t a single ounce of stress inside of her.
Just as well, Lena figured as she reached for more lubricant.
It would be easier examining and checking her bottom in that instance.
FIND THE NEXT TWO CHAPTER PLUS MORE LESBIAN SCANDALOUS EROTICA HERE.
Chapter 11
Beneath the leather mask, Kara is sweaty and panting, red-cheeked and unsure of herself. The hood prevents her from seeing anything. The noises around her are muffled and faraway, as though she is underwater. She can hear Doctor Lena speaking. But, she can’t tell what will happen next. Where she will be touched next.
“Poor baby.” A hand grips her jaw through the leather mask. “Are you being a good girl underneath there?”
“Yes Ma’am,” Kara mutters loudly through the breathing tube between her teeth.
It’s her only connection to the outside world, or at least it feels that way. It tastes of rubber, sits uncomfortably wide and turgid against her flat tongue. She inhales, exhales, inhales, exhales. The breathing a quick whooshing sound through the tube. But when slippery latex fingers rub her nipples, her breathing falls silent.
“Your heartbeat gets so fast when I touch you here.” Fingers twist and tug her sensitive nipples. “Is it because you’re embarrassed or because it makes you feel good?” There’s a faint sense of clinical observation in her tone.
“Both,” Kara whimpers.
“Well then…” The fingers come away, and Kara tries desperately to follow with her straining chest. The restraint strap only let her lift up a few inches. “I think we’ll have to teach your drippy little hole a few more new things, Princess.”
There’s no way to tell what the doctor is doing—what she is planning. But Kara feels her fingers slip along her ribs, her belly, traipsing down her hip and stirruped thigh as she walks around. Doctor Lena comes undone at her kneecap, and then Kara faintly hears the sound of metal clinking.
What is she planning?
What could be coming next?
In the darkness there is nothing but her own hot breath and swirling thoughts. Kara feels more in tune with her body than she can ever recall. Mainly, the desperate flexing between her legs. It’s sore. It’s wet. It’s both of these things, simultaneously.
The forceps that pull her labia apart sting slightly every time she shifts. The small clamp on top of her slit that keeps her throbbing clit exposed and retrated, it presses down into her nerve when she tightens her belly, putting the smallest amount of pressure through the new wondrous toy between her legs that doesn’t hurt the way it did before.
Kara wants it to be rubbed, circled, teased and toyed with.
There’s a sudden slight tug on the catheter between her legs. The balloon inflated deep inside of her body shifts the smallest amount, stuck and not budging. It isn’t particularly forceful, but it makes her gasp and yank against the restraints. Responsively, Kara hears the sound of pleased laughter, quiet and soft.
“Just checking, Princess.” A slippery palm slips up and over her hot slit, fingers tracing her swollen clit. “Just making sure everything is where I want it to be…”
The pressure of a finger pressing into her tight, clenching bottom makes Kara gasp and yank on the restraints again. She twists her head, shaking it, whimpering, instinctively trying to close her legs despite the stirrups locked and spreading her wide.
The doctor isn’t rough or excitable, Kara hears the hushing croons and can’t help but blush in embarrassment. The finger between her cheeks circles her hole, coating it in something slippery and cold, dipping inside and pushing through her ring only slightly—lubricating it too.
“You’re being such a good girl,” the doctor says firmly. “A little pressure inside your bottom now. You can be a good girl a little bit longer, can’t you?”
Despite the tears, the sweat, the complete deprivation of her senses which seems to make everything more sensitive and on-end. Kara cries it out between her teeth:
“Yes Ma’am,” she whimpers. “I’ll be good.”
“That’s all I ask.” A finger pushes through her slippery, tight ring. “Big breathe, don’t bear down, just relax—”
Kara feels the first knuckle settle inside of her clenching asshole. The doctor circles her finger, twisting, gently pushing back and forth. It feels nothing like having something inside of her cunt, Kara realises quickly. Her bottom feels tighter, more difficult to relax, more embarrassing to have it touched and prodded.
“Your little hole just sucks me in,” Doctor Lena muses, and Kara feels her finger press inside to the second knuckle.
Kara cries out, sucking the tube that rests on her tongue, biting it with her teeth, sweaty and restless against the leather restraint straps that won’t let her move. She feels like a prisoner, which only compounds her arousal. The finger in her bottom hurts a little bit, as though her body is fighting against it but Doctor Lena is winning the war—twisting and curling against her slippery little walls.
Kara panics.
She instinctively says the one word she didn’t anticipate she could say in such a predicament.
“More!” It snaps out of her chest with a wobbly cry. “Please, Ma’am. Please more—”
Before she can finish the sentence, a second fingertip is pressing against her clenching hole. Her body puts up resistance, but not enough. The doctor presses inside slowly, stretching her, coaxing her tightest knot of muscle slippery and open.
“Good girl, there you go.” Kara feels a thumb slip and rub over her aching clitoris. “You’re not thinking about cumming, are you?” The doctor poses sternly, as though she can tell that something is building deep inside of Kara’s body.
“Please!” Kara begs, thrusting her hips as hard as she can despite the restraints — which only makes her taut cunt lips sting more. “Please let me cum,” she cries like a slut.
“Not yet, Princess.” The fingers slip out of her bottom and leave her devastatingly empty. “Can you hold something for me, Kara?”
Kara thinks the question is strange. Her wrists are restrained with cuffs to the side of the bed. Her fingers and palms flat against the mattress, though she can just about slap the metal rails as she discovered earlier.
“H-How?” She tries to lift her hands.
“Oh no silly, don’t strain yourself—” Kara suddenly feels cold metal against her bottom.
Oh fuck, Kara thinks and grows still.
“Hold it like this.” Doctor Lena begins to press it against her flexing hole. “It’s a little bit bigger than my fingers, you just be sure to let me know if it starts to hurt…”
Chapter 12
It doesn’t hurt.
It feels wonderful.
Kara gasps when the slippery metal stretches her bottom open, unsure of the new sensation, shocked at the rude way her bottom seems to swallow and suck against the flared base with clenches that give her away.
The doctor rubs her belly as though she is being a very good girl indeed.
“You’re very wet—” Kara feels latex fingers touch her taut cunt lips, then they press slightly into the sore bite of the clamps holding her labia apart. “Should I assume nothing feels too uncomfortable inside your bottom?”
The words embarrass her, but there’s no fear of her cheeks showing that humiliation with flush cherry blushing. Beneath the leather mask Kara is totally hidden away, just a faceless body to be played and toyed with. Kara can’t imagine the doctor’s expression but she wants to, desperately. Is the doctor smiling down at her lovingly? Is she rolling her tongue around her teeth with measured sadistic pleasure?
But then Kara feels two fingers slip back inside her tight cunt again. It’s so much tighter this time. It’s so much more sensitive. The fingers add pressure against the rocking, suckling plug inside her bottom. It makes Kara cry out a muffled noise, twisting against the restraints, then she whimpers and strains her neck muscles harshly against the tightly buckled strap that keeps her prisoner on the pillow.
“Hush princess.” The voice of authority is unwavering in its sternness. “You’re being a very good girl, let’s not spoil ourselves?”
But then the fingers curl and press and strum a little rhythm into sensitive parts of herself that had been previously unknown and undiscovered. Kara feels herself clench, sucking on the fingers in with her tightness, her arousal renewing and compounding as her mind drifted to earlier; to the sharp pain and helpless feeling that had devoured her when Doctor Lena’s knuckles had settled against the remnants of her hymen.
“What a very good girl,” Doctor Lena praises with honey in her voice. “A little more pressure now. You be sure to let me know if it hurts.”
“Fuck!” Kara bellows and feels the loudness bulge in her windpipe.
Her clitoris—the little knot between her legs that had always given her pain and discomfort prior to today—it feels different now. The rubbing is so careful and soft, it feels like a well-lubricated, single fingertip circling and pressing her clitoris with total gentleness. It feels wonderful. It feels frightening, new, a pleasure that is unsure of itself. Is this too dirty? Kara thinks, but decides she doesn’t care.
“Your toes are curling,” The doctor observes with a coo, sounding thoroughly pleased. “I’m so glad you feel better, princess, I would just hate to think of you laying here all night feeling tense and sore between your legs—” The circles grow faster, the fingertip flexing and rubbing and touching her clitoris while the curls inside of her cunt seem to increase to match the speed. “You will feel a little bit sore, of course. Exposed, restrained, embarrassed, crying out for someone to hold your hand and make you feel better…”
“Something’s happening,” Kara growls and gasps, losing her breath as her body seems to flex and rattle, as though it understands how to respond to a thing she can’t quite understand yet. “It feels… it feels…”
“You’re okay don’t fight it, just let it take you somewhere lovely, princess.”
When Kara feels the doctor lean forward, lean into her, lean deeper and fuck her harder, it seems to make the chaotic undoing of her body feel lavender calm. Kara wails, but she isn’t in pain—the opposite. Her entire body feels like exploding glitter, she feels a rush that washes her out like a tide. It comes too quickly, too suddenly, but the tide drags her out into the deep end until delicious pleasure wracks her from her fingers to her toes.
“What a good, good girl.” Doctor Lena doesn’t stop rubbing and curling and fucking her perfectly. “Keep going, I can feel your g-spot still has some left in the tank—” Just like that Kara feels hard pressure against a part of her body she now has a name for.
G-spot.
It feels like Doctor Lena is trying to pull on it, like she’s hooked her fingers into the mains of her pleasure and she won’t let go until Kara does something she doesn’t know how to do yet. Yet her body still obeys in the absence of herself, Kara feels herself shaking, hears the sound of her own thrilled cries without the ability to stop the banshee-like noises.
“Good girl, you’re doing beautifully.” The doctor is so gentle in her praise while her hands are anything but. “I can feel you getting so tight, don’t fight it, don’t think—”
Kara feels the two fingers leave her cunt—but it doesn’t leave her devastatingly empty the way it did before. This time Doctor Lena doesn’t pull out, Kara expels her with tightness.
It’s indescribable. It’s more pleasure than Kara’s brain understands or knows what to do with. Doctor Lena puts so much pressure right behind her clitoris as her fingers leave, pressing into it, dragging on it, tugging so hard that Kara feels something comparable to a spray. The pleasure puts stars in her vision, has her panting and twisting and wailing, aware of her body in frightening and exciting ways that were tentative in their newness.
There’s a thumping sound in the background, tethering and tugging her back to reality. It’s a quick, punching rhythm. Her own heartbeat, she remembers the monitor pads stuck across her ribs and chest.
“Rest now.” The doctor rubs her mound. “I’ll be back later.”
“Wait, what?” Kara mutters, her throat hoarse and dry.
A wet trembling mess restrained to the bed, hooded in leather, her shame exposed, body sensitive and nude, Kara quickly understands the state of things with frightful immediacy.
She is being left to her own devices and thought-processes.
The doctor’s sadistic arousal has only just begun.