6:21 a.m. :: 2002-03-07
medical examination

Ever since I found out that during the victorian period some doctors prescribed orgasm as a cure for certain nervous, hysterical women I've had a fantasy about being one of those women. Early vibrators were developed as a cure for some of these women, and the doctor would clinically bring the woman to orgasm. This isn't exactly that but...

White ceiling, white lamp, too bright. I wince to shield myself from the blinding glare and, too curious to keep my eyes completely shut, try to look out through my lashes.

More interesting is what I'm hearing. A soft murmur of voices. Too many to count properly, all of them low and polite, blending into the background. Then the sharp click of footsteps walking around me, making a circle.

I hear a voice. The room is large enough to create an echo. The voice is speaking in a language I don't understand. It's very calm, authoritative.

The click click click of footsteps again, this time moving towards my feet. There's a pause and then suddenly the warm quilt covering me is lifted. I realize that I'm naked underneath the covering, and without the thick blanket the cold air of the amphitheater rushes in. All of a sudden I'm shivering, I can feel the soft pricks of gooseflesh rising along my arms and thighs, and my nipples hardening into wrinkled buds.

I realize that there is more than one person nearby. There is more than one set of footsteps, click clicking around me. I see shadows around me, hovering in my peripheral vision, black against the blazing white light. Hands slide dispassionately along my body. Cool, hard hands that smooth and display. Hands that cup my breasts and weigh them, each one, hands that flick speculatively at my nipples, then prick. My whole body trembles violently at the sudden, unexpected pain. There are rustling noises from the audience, so silent these last few minutes. People craning their necks to watch.

But the figures around me haven't paused. I am moved, presented to the spectators. My legs are spread. I try to shut them but I cannot; they are strapped firmly against the soft leather of the chair. I realize that my arms are bound as well.

An icy finger slides into my vagina. I jump again at the sudden cold touch, worming up into the heart of me.

This time the audience gasps. There are murmurs. The hands return, this time stroking my body, pressing firmly but patiently. I feel heat against my inner thighs. I feel warm wet tongues on my nipples. I feel fingers kneading my breasts, hands kneading my thighs. Tongues caress and suck my toes. I open my eyes wide into the white light but still can't see. I gasp and realize that my body is hot, fiery and trembling.

And then, what I had hoped for and feared, a mouth that clamped down on my clitoris like a mussel. Another licking delicately at my anus. Fingers pulling, stroking, pinching my labia. Every inch of my body is massaged rhythmically, forcefully.

Someone puts a finger in my mouth. I taste myself on it. I suck the finger, then bite it hard. I draw blood.

The finger jerks away. I'm too blinded by pleasure to care; all along my body pulses of pleasure are circling, mounting, while deep at the heart of me is a suction so sure, so expert that it's almost violent. I know I'm going to come, that my body will convulse despite the straps and the people watching, that I will come for these strange hands and voices and mouths

The atmosphere in the room changes slightly. I feel a shifting around me and realize that I am being teased. Each time I approach my orgasm I am pushed away. I come closer and closer to my climax each time until I am gasping and moaning, totally without control, in an agony of wanting.

Ice is applied to my breasts and belly. The tongue lifts from my clitoris but traces the circumfrence of my vagina with its tip, probing the tight entry.

Then the tongue is gone. I wait, bracing myself, not sure what will happen next, shutting my eyes and wincing against the unknown, feeling eyes on my naked body, feeling hands on my naked body, knowing that I'm too far gone to protect myself. I'm still panting. My thighs and belly are covered in my own juices, maybe more than just mine.

Two things happen at once. A hard, probing member buts gently up against my vagina and another is inserted into my open mouth.

As I feel the passage of my vagina slowly stretched, aching a little from disuse but throbbing with need, the penis in my mouth begins to thrust lightly. My body is shaking, and as I feel the heat and velvet softness of a cock sliding into me, when it fills me until I can't take anymore and begin to squirm away, I begin to suck on the cock in my mouth. The harder I suck, the more I lick and flick my tongue at the cock in my mouth the more deliciously I feel the other cock thrusting into me. I slip the cock in my mouth into my throat, I twirl my tongue around it, I thrust against it and I feel the cock in my cunt, I feel it slide in and out slowly, thoroughly, making me feel each inch until it's completely sheathed and the crinkly hairs of my cunt scrunch against the hairs of his balls, until I squeal out in protest, and then it's withdrawn, slowly. I feel the cock ram into me with short deliberate thrusts like a battering ram, pounding me with the kind of fierce regularity of a machine, and I'm terrified. I feel the cock stroking me softly and I feel, too, a sudden lapse in control.

The cock is removed from my mouth. I feel lips on my lips, that are sweet with my own taste. I feel hands on my breasts and ass, kneading desperately. I feel the rocking of hips, the soft-belly flesh, the slapping of balls against my thighs.

I orgasm violently. I cry out. I writhe against my restraints. There is a tongue on me, sucking like a mussel. The orgasm doesn't go away or abate. I spasm, my back arching, I try to escape. This time, this convulsion, is too big and too long to bear. I cry and scream and whimper as it continues. The pleasure remains at a peak which is too close to pain.

Then the rolling pleasure abates, I feel warm and soft and limp, boneless and formless. Before my body can truly relax, however, the quick-working tongue has returned me to the peak, pulling me into that pleasure again and letting me fall away from it, but refusing to let me go, always flicking the rough texture of the tongue at my clitoris before the orgasm has completely faded away and bringing me back to it.

I shudder violently, uncontrollably, my body seems to dissolve and I am like an seabed which trembles under the waves, letting the sensation wash over me like thunder that only slowly began to diminish and fade away.

While I lay limp, exhausted, feeble on the table I heard the scuffling of feet and chairs and voices. The room emptied.

Examination over.

spent :: fresh

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