by Jaye Peaches
Blake chuckled. “She’s got a great arse.”
Lysa glared at him. “Can we get on with this?”
Dr Lamont tapped the exam table. “On here.”
Lysa’s lowered her arms and fisted her hands into balls. She inched her way on to the cold surface, shuffling up until she could recline.
“Bottom on the edge and legs in the stirrups.” He eased the stirrups farther apart and grasped her ankle.
“I don’t need help,” she snapped, shaking her leg loose. The rests seemed wide apart, farther than she’d like. She wriggled her bottom down and slid her calves into the plastic cuffs. She gifted Blake the perfect view of her sex.
The doctor stuffed his hands in gloves and snapped the elasticated material around his wrists. Hooking a stool, he positioned himself between her legs and angled a light source, aiming it at the apex of her thighs.
Lysa gripped the edge of the table and gritted her teeth. The humiliation grated. Gawped at by a man probably twice her age and in the presence of the man she’d just met, who didn’t even know what food she liked.
“Well, well,” Dr Lamont remarked.
“What?” asked Blake from his viewpoint by the wall.
“She’s not inhibited. Slick, I would say.”
Lysa cursed under her breath. Betrayed by her pussy, a wave of hot blood pumped about her chest. “It’s… just…”
“No need to feel embarrassed,” said Blake.
“Easy for you to say.”
She muffled her indignant cries of frustration as she submitted to the doctor’s probing. He teased apart each fold of her sex lips, rimming his finger around, pinching and stretching. Lifting her hood, he extracted her clitoris, peering at it. “Everything is in good health. A little swollen, but that is to be expected.”
The man had turned her into an anatomical structure, devoid of personal feelings. However, instead of responding to his lack of taste with insults, his touches created nothing but ambiguity in her needy sex, sparking ripples of tiny spasms in her lower belly. She stared at spots on the white ceiling, the contents of the cupboard opposite, anything to distract herself from the rigmarole of a mortifying procedure. How had she managed to become aroused?
She jerked. She’d failed to notice him apply a layer of lubricant to his fingertips. He smeared it about her sex. It was deliciously cold and stimulating, and a moan escaped her lips,
“Good, you need to relax,” said Dr Lamont picking up the speculum.
The cold metal pressed against her entrance. She tensed, losing the moment of relaxation. “Fuck,” she muttered.
He slid it in, prising apart her taut muscles and widened the aperture. “Nearly there, Lysa, you’re doing well.”
He screwed the speculum into place and stood back. Lysa buried her face in her hands, hiding the view of Blake inching forward, peering into her open sex.
“She’s wet,” commented Blake.
“I’ll palpate her vaginal wall. See if the response increases.” The doctor hooked his fingers inside and he agitated them.
Lysa’s legs trembled, struggling to stay on the stirrups. What had been a flock of butterflies in her stomach, brought on by nerves, transformed into sheer pleasure as he tickled his fingers inside her stretched pussy. She groaned, lifting her bottom up. He’d targeted her g-spot precisely, taking her to the brink. All she needed was the caress of a finger on her clit and she would…
“Keep still,” the doctor instructed.
“I can’t!” She slammed her fists on the edge of the table, fighting off the orgasm by not opening her eyes. The indifferent doctor might ruin her climax, but Blake, with his dark eyes and strapping body would send her spiralling to completion.
“I think we can call that a response.” He removed his fingers and took swabs with a spatula. “Just a precaution,” he muttered.
Lysa released a lungful of trapped air. She’d not noticed how much she’d been holding her breath. The urgent need to come dissipated. She opened her eyes and saw what Dr Lamont had picked up—the cylindrical device with bulb at the end.
“I’m going to insert this scanner into you. It will determine your elasticity and check for flaws in your tissue. I assume the medics back home put an implant in your belly to prevent pregnancy?”
She nodded, remembering the sharp pain as the nurse injected the miniscule device just below her navel. Three years of guaranteed infertility. Children were forbidden on the Outer Rim worlds. A law she was well acquainted with from her own childhood, and she buried the unwanted memories of abandonment before they could reappear.
The thorough medic coated the device in gel and inserted into her pussy. He peered at the monitor screen behind her head, scrutinising her interior. “I have to say this is perfect.”
The matter-of-fact tone of voice made her feel used. Yes, he was being clinical, but his bedside manner needed improving. She squirmed, uncomfortable and keen to have the intrusive devices removed.
“Done,” he removed the probe and eased the speculum out.
Dr Lamont peeled off his gloves and Lysa lifted a leg out of the stirrup.
“Wait,” said the doctor. “I’m done with your vagina. That’s all.”
Lysa’s eyes widened. “What?” she whispered, watching the exchange of glances between Blake and Dr Lamont. Blake moved off the wall and sauntered across the room towards her. He put her leg back in the stirrup. “Stay.”
“So, Blake, I take it you plan to use her anally?”
She sprung up, her mouth transformed into a gape. “You’ve got to be—”
“Yes,” interrupted Blake, answering Dr Lamont. “A good wife makes everything available to her husband.” There was no malice in his tone, but no niceties either.
What had she let herself into now? She’d assumed being his wife would bring her respect, now they spoke of her as nothing but a sexual object, her worse fears sprung to life.
“You’ve had anal sex before?” The doctor asked her raising his eyebrows.
“Never, why would—”
“Then we ought to check your anus is in good health.” He picked up a fresh pair of gloves. “Lie back, Lysa. It won’t take long. I’ll be gentle.”
She froze, switching between Blake and Dr Lamont, hoping one of them would offer her an escape route to her predicament. Blake touched her shoulder and smiled, then he pushed her back down.
“You’re making this much harder than it should be, Lysa,” said Blake. “Do as you’re told.” His tone changed, sterner and husky. She swallowed, bit down hard on her lower lip and lay back. Faced with a doctor, whose fingers seemed to have grown in girth since she’d first seen them, the reviving confidence she’d christened earlier started to slip away again.
The doctor shifted the stirrups farther back, lifting her bottom up higher. “Mmm. I’m happy to bleach this anus, if you’d like.”
Lysa lifted a finger. “No. I wouldn’t—”
“Sounds good,” replied Blake.
For him! “It’s my arse,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.
Blake leaned over her, resting a hand on either side of her head. “Will you take it easy? Bleaching is temporary. If the cream isn’t applied regularly, the pigmentation returns. It is straightforward to do and it makes for a pretty little bud, one I will enjoy looking at and touching, making you squirm with pleasure. Okay?” He tipped her chin up with a finger. “Lysa?”
“Fine,” she grumbled. With increasing clarity, she understood what might be her body would cease to be her possession once she married. Laws dictated her lesser status. Nobody seemed to care about it back on Earth, how Corporate wives were treated. She repeated her mantra, focusing on the distant future and not the immediate humiliating scene she’d consented to inflicting upon herself.
From out of the cupboard, the doctor fetched a bottle. “I’ll apply the first treatment myself. Repeat it every day for a week and the pigmentation in her anus will fade, then once a week to maintain it. She’ll be left with a lov
ely puckered pink hole.”
Lysa cringed at the idea.
He shook the bottle and motioned to Blake to stand closer. “Like this.”
He dabbed it on, then smeared it around her back entrance. Unlike the lubricant, the unction heated her anus and stung, too. “Rub it in until it disappears.”
While her back hole blazed, the rest of her shivered, forming goose bumps about her belly. How much longer would it burn?
“This is good stuff.” Blake took the bottle from the doctor and peered at the label.
“It can have a dual purpose, if you so wish. But, that’s down to you, Blake. Don’t put too much on at once.”
Dual purpose? What did that mean? It burnt like crazy still and she wanted it wiped off.
“This will help with the discomfort.” Dr Lamont applied a layer of cold lube about her anus. It negated the effect of the whitener immediately, bathing her assaulted back hole with delicious coolness. However, the pleasant sensation was short-lived as within seconds she cringed, screwed her face up and waited for the inevitable intrusive examination.
He poked, palpating her lower belly as he penetrated deeper into her back passage. “Nice and tight here,” he remarked, again in a tone of professional detachment.
Lysa gasped and coiled her hair about her fingers. His fat finger stretched her wider, twisting and turning. Another finger joined the first and he slid them back and forth, extending her taut coils of muscles with little grace. The tiny nerve endings in her anus tingled, sizzled with a different kind of warmth. She didn’t want to admit to liking it. How could she countenance the thought of enjoying a shameful anal ransacking?
She opened her eyes and stared straight at Blake. He’d a gentle smile on his face. She lowered her gaze, down his chest until she reached his groin. The bulge in his pants had enlarged, filling the space between his loins. The strange cocktail of emotions stirred again—his obvious arousal both unnerved and excited her.
“I feel like I want to come,” she whispered. Her softly spoken words caught Blake’s attention. He straightened up, dismissed the softly focussed grin from his face and his mouth opened a fraction, as if amazed. Perhaps, behind his confident posturing, Blake was just as confused as she was?
The fingers slipped out and she sighed in relief. The impending orgasm diminished with its absence.
“You’ll need to train her. Take it slow, make sure she copes.” Dr Lamont crossed to the other side of the room and opened a drawer. He fetched out a rectangular box. Lysa perched on her elbows, keen to know what he meant by training. He opened the lid, showing Blake the contents, but not her.
Blake held up a metal butt plug, pear shaped with a tapered end. Lysa’s ability to speak failed. It looked heavy, unforgiving in nature as if designed to torture. Hardly something she’d want shoved up her arse.
“That is the smallest,” said Dr Lamont. “Start with that, build up a few hours and then the next size up, until you reach this one.” He held aloft another plug.
“That!” she screeched at the immense bung. It would tear her apart! Surely, no one could tolerate it.
“Plenty of lube, slow insertion, keep her calm and relaxed. Once she’s trained, you can fuck her hard and she’ll be fine.” The doctor replaced the plugs in the box and closed the lid. “Keep these until you’re finished with her anal prep. But I’ll want the set back. There is always somebody who wants to do some revision.”
“Thanks, doc,” grinned Blake. “We’ll have fun with this, won’t we, Lysa?”
“Fun?” she seethed. “You’ve got a strange idea about what’s fun. No way are you putting those in my butt.”
“Lysa, it will be in your marriage contract—complete availability unless you’re ill or menstruating, which is why I like anal, keeps you accessible.” Blake placed the box on the trolley.
Her mouth opened and shut in quick succession. She wished she’d seen a copy of the contract while on Earth, but her approach to joining the list of eligible women had been less than orthodox. Now, she regretted not investigating before she’d departed Earth.
“Now are we done?” She tried to sit up, but both men pressed her back down again.
“You’ve forgotten about the orgasm, Lysa,” said Blake.
Her thumping heartbeat picked up in pace, pounding against her breastbone. She gave Blake a pitiful expression. “What are you going to do to me?”
* * *
Blake took a step back. His cock strained behind his clothing, waiting for release and he hid it behind his hand. She’d sounded shocked and embarrassed by the discussion about anal sex, but throughout it, her pink sex lips plumped and puffed up beautifully. How easy it would be to ask the doctor to leave so he could fuck her on the exam table. He’d strap her legs down and pound her wet pussy until she screamed at him, begging him to stop as she came over and over.
He blinked, shaking the fantasy out of his head. He wasn’t that kind of man. Others he knew would do it with little compunction and enjoy the thrill. He’d heard about their antics in the bar over drinks with his fellow miners. But, something about Lysa warned him off. She didn’t seem to have the proficiencies he expected from a Corporate wife. No anal experience? He’d been told they arrived eager to please and willing to try almost anything. This sexy blonde, stretched wide and quivering, held back and pleaded with her eyes for mercy. What started out as a straightforward medical exam had created bedlam in his head—how had she managed that in such a short time frame?
He turned to the doctor. “Test her ability to orgasm.”
Dr Lamont stepped forward. “Okay. Now, Lysa. This is what’s going to happen.”
Blake listened as the doctor outlined the procedure and observed Lysa’s stunned eyes grow wider and darker.
She shook her head. “I can’t do that. Not with you watching. Can’t you leave the room and—”
“The regulations require me to be present,” said the medic.
Blake hated to see her shrivel and lose her arousal—it would make the test harder. As the doctor examined her, he’d witnessed her struggle with her emotions. She deserved the orgasm for being brave. He stood by the table and held her hand, rubbing his thumb along her trembling knuckles. “Let go of your fears, Lysa. Don’t worry what we think. Let me show you why.”
He cupped his other hand about her sex and slid a finger inside her drenched pussy. Removing it, he held his hand in front of her face and the juices trickled down his hand. “I love seeing this. You’re a natural, only your mind holds you back.”
“I’m not that kind of girl,” she whispered. “Sexy and uninhibited, it isn’t me.”
“Don’t doubt yourself. You’re special, or why else are you here? All you have to do is what I ask you. No questions, no holding back. If you make trouble, you know what the consequences are for disobedience.”
She snatched a breath. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
The intimate examination must have addled her mind. Of course she knew what he meant, what applicant didn’t? “I think you do. That being said, you came all this way for a reason. I want to know what it is.”
She went pale for a few seconds. “I came to be with you,” she stated, clearing her throat. “To be your wife.”
“Then show me how much you want it.”
She lay back and turned her head towards the doctor. “I’m ready.”
Blake wiped his hand on a cloth and allowed Dr Lamont access to Lysa. The probes he placed about her person would record her muscular contractions and pulsating nerves. He clamped one on each nipple. “These will register you nipples hardening.” He explained.
Another sensor he put on her jugular. “The rush of blood to your face when you orgasm is classic. The temperature will rise, too. All perfectly natural.”
He placed others on her inner thigh and calves. “Trembling, uncontrollable intense muscle spasms.”
She tittered when he added one to each of the soles of her feet. “When you come, the tendons in your
soles shorten, pulling your toes under.”
“They tickle!” She wriggled her toes.
“Lastly, I’m going to apply these little tweezers to your labia. They will pick up your contractions as you come.”
Each one nipped her puffed lips, hanging down with wires leading off.
Blake spoke from his vantage point. “Do they hurt, Lysa?”
She shook her head. “Pinch a little.”
“I don’t want this to hurt.” Each passing minute spent in the exam room lasted too long. He had to know, see her come and satisfy his curiosity, but also he wanted her embarrassment to end.
She gripped the edge of the bed and tensed. Had he scared her with his talk of disobedience, made her unable to pluck out her sensual desires and reach completion?
The doctor held one of the straps. “I would suggest we apply these to your legs. I don’t want you to kick and knock off the sensors.”
Blake agreed, she looked coiled as if she might spring apart. Together they looped the straps around her ankles and just above her knees, holding her legs firmly in place on the stirrups.
Her pussy glistened under the lights. Tying her down had heightened her arousal, not diminished it. Blake suppressed the desire to smile, to show his appreciation. Given her ambivalent state, she wouldn’t understand what it meant to him to see her comply.
The vibrator had a ball on the end and Blake took the device off the doctor. “Let me, doc.”
“Sure, Blake. I’ll watch the monitors.”
He stroked her inner thigh. “Chill, Lysa. Close your eyes and relax.”
She jerked as he applied the vibrator to her clitoris. As he pressed it down, she moaned, writhed and arched her back. Her face contorted, her lower jaw dropped and she squeezed her eyes shut. Her knuckles turned white as she clung on to the metal rim of the table.
She hollered as she came, thrashing her head from side to side. A blush of pink flooded across the skin of her chest and neck. She panted, straining against her restraints. After several seconds of spasms, she settled, becoming limp.
Blake switched off the vibrator and stood between her legs. He thrust the vibe into the doctor’s hand. “Well? I assume you don’t think that was a fake?” He growled.