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The Ghosts of Ravencrest (The Ravencrest Saga Book 1)

Page 7

by Tamara Thorne


  What in heaven’s name are those things? They’re going to hurt me!

  Dr. Akin smiled down at her. “You’re fine, relax. Now I’m going to put your feet up.” He tugged on either side of the bottom of the exam table and two leg holders flipped out. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Now, Belinda, just relax, and I’ll take care of everything.” He lifted her right ankle with one hand, cupped her calf with the other and began to raise her leg into the air. “It’s okay, relax. Let me do the work.”

  Belinda couldn’t answer but willed herself to comply. A second later, her calf rested on the holder and her heel was in a stirrup. He did the same with the other leg. She felt so exposed she wanted to cry. But I won’t. I refuse to cry.

  “Now, Belinda, I need you to scoot forward a few inches, so your bottom is right at the edge of the table. Can you do that for me?”

  She opened her eyes. Dr. Akin stood between her legs. Dr. Johnson just behind him, and the nurse right by one of the stirrups, taking it all in - All of me! - and all three of them smiling. Belinda tried to scoot, but the paper on the table beneath her bunched up.

  “Don’t worry,” Dr. Akin said, his voice warm and honeyed, peaceful, calm. “I’ll help you.” He put his arms around her legs and lifted her bottom off the table. “Virginia, please fix the paper.”

  The nurse did so, and then Dr. Akin pulled Belinda forward by her legs a few inches and lowered her down. Her bottom was hanging over the edge and the pressure spread her, so she felt cool air in new places. “Oops,” said the doctor. He placed one hand on each of her butt cheeks and pushed back, then examined her position. “Yes, that’s just right. Comfortable, Belinda?”

  “No.”

  “It’s your first time. I know this is a little shocking, but trust me, next time you won’t even blink.”

  Belinda doubted that very much.

  “I should rephrase my question. Are you in any pain? Is anything pinching or hurting?”

  “No.”

  “Very good. Nurse?”

  The woman’s hands went to one stirrup, then the other fastening wide Velcro straps over her ankles. Then she retreated.

  “Why?” asked Belinda.

  “The straps?”

  She nodded.

  “Well, it’s just in case, once you’re in position, you might get a leg cramp and bop your doctor on the head.”

  “I’m not going to get a leg cramp.”

  “You’re not in position yet.”

  “I’d prefer you undo them,” Belinda said, her voice breathy. “They make me feel very claustrophobic.”

  Dr. Akin pressed a lever under the table and her legs began to open wider and wider until she was spread-eagled, all of her privates on display. “Now you’re in position,” the doctor told her. “And we’ll be done in just a couple minutes.”

  “But-”

  “Don’t worry.” He snapped on a pair of latex gloves. “It’ll be over before you know it. Nurse, my stool.”

  Belinda heard something being rolled toward her, then the doctor sat down so his face was just inches from her vagina. And her anus. Could this be any more humiliating? In as long as she could remember, only she had seen her privates. When she was about ten, she took a hand mirror to bed with her, and a flashlight, and had looked so hard and been so fascinated by what was down there that she didn’t know anyone was watching until her mother snatched off the covers.

  Momma had been horrified and made her confess to the old priest at the school, and had covered her dresser mirror and taken away the hand mirror. She even took away the little compact she’d kept in her purse. Calling her daughter a whore, she made her sit in the corner for two hours every night for a month and tucked her sheets in so hard she could barely move, let alone raise her knees. Her mother checked on her early in the morning to make sure the tucks were as tight as they had been at bedtime. And she made her wear knitted mittens to bed to keep her from touching herself.

  “Belinda? Are you ready?”

  “I-”

  A cold blob of something - gel, she realized - hit her open vagina.

  “It’s a little cold,” the doctor said, “But we’ll warm it up right now.”

  And his fingers began to move the gel around, sliding it all over her nether regions, rubbing it into her lower lips with gentle care.

  Almost like a lover. The thought was unbidden, unwanted. It’s wrong to like this ... Normal people don’t like this. But it felt so good.

  He massaged her labia and Dr. Johnson stood behind him, watching. He added more gel to her clitoris and then rubbed that in with such a light caressing motion that she felt a strange ache in her groin and had to fight the urge to push herself into his hand.

  The pleasure increased and she felt beads of sweat prickling her hairline. Her senses heightened and she became aware of everything around her - the overhead light illuminating her, the sounds of Dr. Akin’s steady breathing, the light smell of antiseptic idling in the air, the eyes on her body.

  Her own breathing grew deeper and the oxygen seemed revitalizing somehow - fresh and delicious in an inexplicable new way. Her eyes rolled back of their own accord and she closed her lids to conceal the fact. Is this normal? Does everyone feel this way? What’s wrong with me?

  And then he puddled gel over her anus and began rubbing it around the opening. Her eyes flipped open. “What are you doing back there?”

  “Just preparing you for the anal exam,” he said as he continued to massage the lubricant in. “This isn’t KY. This is a cream with a mild anesthetic in it to ease any discomfort and it takes a few minutes before it starts working.” He placed his finger over her anus. “Do you feel that?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to relax and push out a little so that I can insert a little cream inside you, okay Belinda?”

  “I’ll try.” Panic had eaten away all the good feelings. She couldn’t push, but his finger probed into her. It was weird, humiliating, though physically, not as bad as she had feared.

  “There we go. All done.” He snapped his gloves off and put on a new pair. A moment later, she felt something at her vaginal opening and then cool gel flowing into her. “Relax for me now, Belinda.”

  One of his fingers entered her, slow and steady. She gasped. It hurt a little.

  “Tight,” he said.

  “Healthy,” Nurse Massengil commented.

  “Doctor Johnson,” said Dr. Akin, “put on a glove. I’d like you to feel this.”

  Belinda wanted to die.

  The intern gloved up, lubricated his fingers then moved into position as Dr. Akin rolled his stool back. The young man’s fingers were in her opening and starting to hurt when Dr. Akin said, “No. Just one finger. She’s a virgin and compactly built.”

  The fingers pulled back then only one entered. It hurt a little less than Dr. Akin’s because it was smaller.

  “See if you can feel her cervix.”

  Belinda yelped as the young man pushed hard. He pulled back. “No, I can’t feel it.”

  “I’ll take over.” The men swapped positions. “Nurse, give me the smallest speculum, please. Lube it well.”

  Belinda heard it slap into his hand then cold metal began to part her lips. It was almost enough to make her forget about the upcoming anal invasion. “This speculum is one we use for young girls. It may make you feel rather full because your hymen is quite sturdy, but it won’t hurt you.” As he spoke, his free hand came to rest on her mons and her clitoris responded to the warmth. His fingers lay there unmoving and she began to enjoy herself again, just a little.

  “The kit, nurse,” he commanded. He removed his hand from above but the speculum, despite the tightness and a little pain, had warmed and didn’t feel too bad. “You’re going to feel a little pinch,” he said a moment later.

  There was a disturbing feeling deep inside her, and then it was over, the speculum removed.

  But it wasn’t over. Now he inserted his finger again and felt around. “Belind
a, this hymen is going to cause you a lot of pain when you become sexually active. We need to do something about it, and I need to get two fingers inside to examine your cervix. Okay?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want you to relax and let me work at it. Your hymen is likely to tear a little, but a lot less than if you were having sex. You’ll be glad, later. And I will send something home with you to further help you with this problem.”

  “Medicine?”

  “Of a sort. Now, take a deep breath and relax.” He stood and began to push two fingers of one hand into her while pressing on her abdomen with the other. She didn’t care for that and wished he’d move the hand on her belly further down. That would take away the pain she was beginning to feel. She wanted to say so, but couldn’t bring herself to utter the words.

  “Ouch!” she cried as his fingers moved deeper. “That hurts! Stop!”

  His hand stilled. “That’s the most pain you’ll feel, Belinda. Trust me. It’s broken. There’s still a lot of work to do, but you’ll be able to do that yourself, and you may even enjoy it.” He moved again, pushing deeper. It still stung but wasn’t so bad now. A moment later he withdrew and changed his gloves again.

  “We have one more manual exam, then we’re almost done.” With that he lubed a finger of one glove and two of the other and then entered both her orifices, the vaginal quickly, the anal, slowly.

  It was breathtaking. She wasn’t sure if she hated it or loved it, but wished Dr. Johnson would come over and put his hand on her mons to help make it feel better.

  Dr. Akin probed with his fingers, for what, she didn’t know, but she could feel the finger in her rear tapping against the ones in her vagina and that sweet ache built again, stronger, more urgent. If only he’d touch me on top!

  He was smiling down at her, watching her. “How are we doing?”

  “Okay,” she managed between her rapid breaths. Is this what always happens? Why did my mother say doctors are bad? Dr. Akin isn’t bad, he’s gentle and kind.

  “Dr. Johnson, would you mind taking your break now? I’m going to need you for our next patient. I’m going to let you perform the full prostate exam.”

  The young man blinked, stripped off his gloves, and said, “As you wish, Doctor.” He left the room.

  “Virginia, would you be a dear and go check with the front desk about the rest of the day’s appointments? I’m wondering if I can get nine holes in this afternoon.”

  You’ve already got two.

  “Very well, Doctor.” The nurse eyed him. “I’ll be back.”

  “No need. We’re finishing up. Miss Moorland is very tight and I don’t want to subject her to the anoscope exam today.”

  The nurse gave him another look then stalked out, letting the door slam behind her.

  The entire time he spoke, he continued to move his fingers inside her and Belinda felt light headed because she was breathing so hard, but she couldn’t help it. She stared up into the doctor’s handsome green eyes, took in those cheekbones and the strong jawline. His full lips looked a little redder than they had and she thought perhaps he was breathing a bit faster, too.

  “Belinda, I sense you have never had an orgasm.”

  “I’m not sure. I had a dream last night ... ”

  “Would you like me to show you how?”

  Oh dear lord, what’s he saying? What does he want to do to me? “You’re not going to-” She couldn’t even say it.

  “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do. I’m not going to try to have intercourse with you. That would not be professional. But-” his eyes twinkled. “I can show you how to have an orgasm. I can help you.”

  “How?”

  “I’m going to keep my fingers right where they are because this is what seems to bring on sufficient arousal for orgasm in your case. I can see that you need no further gel. Your own body is producing an abundance of secretions and if you will put your hand - or hands - on your vulva and reach all the way down to where my fingers are inside you, you can get your own fingers very well lubricated. Do you want to try that, Belinda?”

  Her mother’s voice tried to tell her she was nothing but a cheap slut, but she shut Momma up fast. “Yes, but … wouldn’t it be better if you did it yourself? I mean? It’s weird to touch myself in a doctor’s office.”

  “I would, but I don’t have enough hands. If you want me to withdraw from one of your openings, I will.”

  “No, don’t,” she said, trying to sound bored. “I’ll do it.”

  She brought her arms down and both hands touched her cleft. She shivered with the ache and pushed her right hand lower until she felt the fingers of the doctor’s gloved hand sliding in and out of her. She stayed like that a moment, riding the hand, then slipped first one, then two, of her digits inside herself, excited by the feel of Dr. Akin’s big masculine fingers next to hers. With reluctance, but also full of need, Belinda withdrew her own. They were sticky with gel and her own juices and she brought them up to her clitoris. With her left hand, she pulled back on her cleft to further expose her sex, and then she touched herself.

  She caressed the button, then pressed harder as the doctor’s fingers pushed in and out of her and wiggled in her bottom. She realized he had inserted a second finger back there and something began building and building in her core until she thought she might die - and she didn’t care.

  “That’s right,” said the doctor. “Just like that.” His voice was rough, unrefined, deep.

  She rode that sound as well as the feeling swelling within - hot, strong, overwhelming sensations shot through her, exploding in her groin and up into her torso, neck, and head, then out her arms and legs until even her fingers and toes tingled and lights burst behind her eyes and she wanted to scream as she bucked harder and harder against the doctor’s fingers and her own.

  It was like body surfing, riding the electric waves that washed through her, and just as it started to subside, it built again, stronger and stronger, to even greater heights. This time, she was sure she would die. But she didn’t. The sensations exploded once more, the lights behind her eyes bursting brighter than before. The skin all over her body puckered into gooseflesh, all the tiny bumps seeming to spark and tingle in unison. Her entire body was a fireworks display of booming pleasure.

  She gasped, tensed, blew her breath out in hard, quick exhalations.

  It peaked, then the feeling began to meander, dying down, but hitching every so often, as if it were being caught in a net in its descent. With each snag of sensation, she gasped until it fizzled, burning itself out until she was aware of nothing but the cooling sheen of perspiration that covered her entire body.

  She realized the doctor’s hands had ceased movement and she looked at him, hoping for more. Instead he withdrew them. “I’m sorry, Belinda, but I have another appointment waiting and I’m afraid Nurse Massengil will come back in to tell me so.” He stripped off the gloves, went to the sink and came back with warm, damp washcloths and proceeded to wipe her clean. It felt wonderful.

  At last, he undid the Velcro restraints and brought the leg rests together and down. He helped her off the table and turned his back while she dressed. He’s a gentleman, she thought, as she slipped into her clothes. Her knees were weak and she worried she might not be able to support herself, but she did so without any problem. When she had her shoes on he handed her a prescription page. “What are these for?” she asked. She couldn’t read his writing.

  “A birth control pill, if you want it, and a set of dilators. Use them every night to finish eroding away that hymen of yours. While you’re using them, you might want to practice achieving orgasm.” He smiled. “Though I dare say, you’re a natural.”

  She was amazed to find she had a blush left in her. “Thanks, I think.”

  “On your way out, make an appointment for a month to six weeks from now. I want to check on the progress you make on your hymen and, perhaps, prescribe a larger set of dilators. Okay?”
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  “Okay.”

  She exited, made her appointment with the receptionist then saw Walter the driver stand up. “You look happy,” he said.

  She averted her eyes. “I’m healthy. Let’s get back to Ravencrest. We just need to make a quick stop at the pharmacy.”

  Walter set his magazine down, groaning a little as he stood. “I got a little too comfortable, I guess. Did the doctor make you all better?” His eyes slid over her.

  Belinda didn’t answer him. As they headed toward the exit, she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. She turned.

  Behind the reception desk, Dr. Johnson stood studying her. He smiled, his gaze never wavering. Something about his expression made her uneasy.

  Belinda didn’t smile back.

  BOOK 3: DARKER SHADOWS

  Messages from Momma

  Her phone beeped, indicating a text message.

  Belinda glanced down. It was her mother. Now the woman was threatening to disinherit her if she didn’t return her calls. The flaw in that threat, of course, was the fact that Momma had worked most of her life as a hairdresser and had very little money put away; certainly not enough to warrant the word disinherit.

  At the sight of the text, Belinda’s inner rebel arose and she stuffed the dilator case under her robe - as if anyone were present to witness this brazen act - then headed into the bathroom.

  Entering the space was like stepping into the midnight sky; she felt as if she were floating. The entire room was tiled in cobalt and patterned with gold and silver stars. Even the shower was full of stars behind its light blue glass door. Overhead, the ceiling was a constellation of small recessed lights studding the same night sky.

  Belinda set her clothes down and ran the tub, enjoying the beauty of the room. The faucets and handles were gold throughout, matching the stars. The only breaks in color were the ivory claw-foot tub, toilet and bidet, and a couple of snowy throw rugs that looked like clouds.

 

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