Eileen showered and dressed automatically: short checkered skirt, button-up blouse, no underwear at Anthony's insistence. Her mind was in a turmoil. She still had not finished processing the events of last night, and Anthony's words churned up a mix of conflicting emotions inside her. The part of her mind that wanted a normal, decent life still couldn't understand why she was still here, why she hadn't left immediately when they returned from their honeymoon.
And yet...the vile, indecent things he did to her stirred something up, something she didn't seem to be able to let go of. Even the way he made her dress sparked something inside her; a few weeks ago she would never have ventured in public so indecently, but the fact that Anthony wanted her to made part of her want it as well.
Something else tickled at the back of her mind, too. Something about the doctor's appointment. She had a vague memory of going in for some kind of checkup before the wedding, but it seemed lost in the whirlwind of the wedding. She felt a mental itch, like there was something important she needed to remember, but she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was.
The feeling got stronger in the car. Anthony drove while Eileen looked out the window and pushed at the fog in her head. There was something she was forgetting, she was sure of it... Finally she said, "What is this appointment for?"
"You'll see." He flashed her a grin. "You'll like it." He put a hand on her thigh and squeezed reassuringly. The rest of the trip passed in silence.
Anthony pulled the car into a vaguely familiar medical park. A sudden, irrational panic set upon Eileen. A powerful sense of dread rose out of nowhere. She turned clutched at his hand. "Anthony, I don't want to go!"
"Nonsense. This exam is crucial to the next part of your training." He turned off the car. "Now listen to me. This is important." His tone demanded attention. "I want you to go in there and do exactly as you are told. Anything you are instructed to do, you must do. Do you understand?" His hand slid up her leg to her thigh.
A churning sea of emotions, vague and undefined, roiled just beneath the surface of her thoughts. The panic grew worse, and along with it came something else...something that reminded her of last night. Her breathing quickened. What did Anthony mean when he talked about it being the doctor's job to make sure she wanted sex all the time?
And why was she accepting this all so passively? She felt that she should be putting her foot down and demanding to be treated like a decent lady. What had he done to her?
"If you do not do as you're told," Anthony continued, "I will hear about it. And that means I will punish you. You've seen your special room." His hand moved under her skirt. Gently, feather-light, his fingers brushed her clit. She gasped from the sensation. "Go."
The panic faded as quickly as it had come. Meekly, she climbed from the car. He watched her walk through the office doors and smiled to himself. When the doors had closed behind her, he pulled smoothly out of the parking lot and drove away.
A half-familiar man with an open smile was waiting for Eileen. She didn't even have time to sit down before he approached her, hand outstretched. "Ah, Miss Miller...or rather, Mrs. Porto. Forgive me, please. You're right on time."
She took his hand with a puzzled frown.
"Of course, of course," he said. "Where are my manners? I'm Dr. Moreland. You can call me Aaron. You were so busy with the wedding, you probably don't remember me. It's okay, you were focusing on more important things, I'm sure." He gestured. "This way, please."
They walked down a short hallway. The doctor grinned genially at her. "How was your honeymoon?"
Eileen blushed and stammered. She had no idea how to answer the question.
It was great, except that my husband decided to turn me into a slave and rape me several times a day? He forced me to masturbate in front of the bellhop?
she thought.
What would he think of me then?
He watched her from beneath an arched eyebrow until she finally said "It was okay, I guess," and looked away.
He led her into a simple exam room with a large, heavy door. A strong sense of dĆ©jĆ vu came over Eileen. A tall woman with long sandy hair waited in the room, holding a clipboard; Eileen felt as if she should know her, but couldn't quite remember how or why. The woman was dressed in simple scrubs decorated with a pattern of tiny teddy bears chasing one another around rainbows, printed in bright colors on sky-blue cotton.
The doctor nodded to the woman. "This is my nurse Samantha, who you met last time you were here. She will be assisting me in today's examination. Now, if you could remove your clothes, please?"
Eileen blushed. "I'm not even sure why I'm here. I don't really remember making another appointment."
The doctor nodded. "We will discuss the purpose of this appointment in a moment. If you will kindly get undressed, we can get started."
"Aren't you going to give me a gown or something?"
"That won't be necessary. Disrobe and have a seat on the table, please."
Still blushing, Eileen fumbled at her clothes. When she had finished stripping, she sat gingerly on the edge of the exam table. Paper crinkled under her.
The doctor looked at her with an appraising eye. "The subject's demeanor has changed significantly since her first examination. The subject presents in a hypersexualized way, both in her manner of walking and in her manner of sitting. The subject now habitually sits with her legs spread even when disrobed."
Eileen flushed red and tried to cover herself with her hands. The nurse wrote on the clipboard while he continued, "The subject still shows a powerful shame response to her own sexuality. Consultation with her husband indicates that he wishes to preserve this aspect of the subject's behavior."
Eileen shrunk into herself. The casual, offhand way he referred to her, as if she were an inanimate object, made her feel very small in his presence. Anthony's firm instruction to do as he told her to do made her feel helpless. The fact that he wasn't here didn't seem to matter; she could still feel him, almost tangibly, as though he were watching over her shoulder. The threat of punishment loomed.
His hands touched her knees, surprisingly gently. He opened her legs again, spreading them wide. Eileen felt Anthony's presence as an almost physical weight, preventing her from resisting or closing her legs. The doctor took her wrists and slowly drew her hands away from her breasts.
"Lie on your back, please," he said. She shivered slightly, but could not make herself comply. She felt strangely vulnerable, and something she couldn't quite identify tugged at her memory.
Gently, softly, the doctor placed his hands on Eileen's shoulders. "Lie down, please." He pressed her back, lightly but firmly, until she was lying flat on the table. "The nurse is going to strap you down now. Are you ready for that?"
The sense of dĆ©jĆ vu came back, even stronger than before. She said nothing. The doctor's hands remained on her shoulders, holding her down. He smiled reassuringly.
She nodded uncertainly. "Okay, I guess."
The nurse took a pair of wide canvas straps from under the table and used them to strap her arms at her sides. Eileen shuddered and tried to rise, but the doctor's hands remained on her shoulders, holding her in place. The nurse pulled more straps tightly around her hips, and another set across her shoulders.
"I am going to place your feet in the stirrups now. Is that okay?"
Eileen gulped and nodded hesitantly. Her heart pounded furiously. The doctor's hands slid down her body, over her breasts, along her sides, and down her thigh. He gently lifted her ankle into the hard metal stirrup. The top swung down and latched. She let out a small squeak.
He crossed over to the other side of the table. His fingers stroked her inner thigh. His hands glided down her leg, sensuously, stirring up a strange mixture of feelings deep in her belly. He lifted her other ankle into the metal bracket. The latch clicked.
Dr. Moreland pulled on a pair of latex gloves. "According to the report provided by her husband, the subject received very heavy unwanted sexual use by a group of men last night. I will now begin a detailed physical examination of the subject." He donned a pair of magnifying eyeglasses. From a large round bin on the counter, he took a tongue depressor. "Open your mouth, please."
Eileen obeyed him reluctantly, heart pounding furiously.
Anthony told him about what happened?
she thought.
Why? Why would he do that?
He pressed her tongue down and peered inside.
"The back of the subject's throat appears mildly raw. There is some evidence of friction." He withdrew the depressor. "While you were engaged in unwanted forcible sexual intercourse last night, did any of the men thrust their penises down your throat?"
Her heart beat faster. She looked away, unable to answer.
"I am your doctor. It is important that you answer all of my questions truthfully and completely." He took her chin in his hands and turned her to meet his gaze. "Did the men who used you last night force their penises down your throat?"
Anthony's voice echoed in her mind, instructing her to do as she was told. In the jumble of thoughts and emotions within her mind, his words made her feel even more helpless than the straps holding her to the table. Her face colored. "Yes."
"Did these men also ejaculate in your mouth?"
She hesitated. The doctor looked down at her calmly. "Yes."
"Did you swallow any of the ejaculate?"
She shuddered. "Yes."
"At any point while these men were ejaculating in your mouth, did you experience sexual gratification?"
Intense shame crawled through her body like a living thing. She could not hold his gaze when she answered. "Yes." Her voice sounded small and far away.
"I see." He turned her head sideways. His fingers combed through her hair. He bent over to inspect her, his face so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. "There appear to be tiny traces of dried semen in the subject's hair. Did these men also ejaculate on your face or body?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"And did you experience sexual gratification at any point during the time when you had their semen on your face or body?"
Hot tears of shame leaked silently from her eyes. "Yes."
His hands moved down the sides of her neck and over her collarbone. He peered closely at her as though searching for something. His fingers moved over her breasts, probing, fondling. Her nipples hardened. The involuntary response horrified and embarrassed her.
"There are small bruises on the subject's breasts, consistent with the marks made by fingers. Did the men squeeze or fondle your breasts forcefully?"
Eileen opened her mouth, but no words would come. She nodded.
"And were you sexually aroused at any point during which your breasts were being forcibly fondled?"
"Iā" Eileen whimpered in humiliation. "I was."
The doctor examined each of her arms closely, from her shoulders all the way down to her hands. Eileen felt dehumanized under his gaze, like an object being poked and prodded to reveal its secrets. The inspection felt clinical, detached, objectifying; but at the same time, being looked at this closely, this meticulously, also seemed very intimate. She struggled to move away from his gaze, but the straps held her immobile.
