Page 14 of Doctor's Orders
Once she was at his side, he showed her a tray that Nurse Carson had conveniently set up very nearby and her mouth formed a surprised—and embarrassed—"O" at what was on it—various sizes of specula from tiny to "oh my God", butt plugs from what would be unnoticeable to anyone who was wearing it to traffic cone sized, various balms and lotions, none of which would feel in the least pleasant anywhere on the body, much less on the intimate places she knew it was going to be used, and more clamps, chains, dildos and punishment implements than she could have imagined existed.
To her horror, she recognized each and every one of the ones that had ever been used on her in the course of her tenure at the doctor's office—and that was a large percentage of what she saw.
Her description, however, was much less passionate and more on the clinical side, to the doctor's disappointment. He couldn't really punish her for that, though, because she wasn't technically wrong. She just hadn't done what he wanted in the manner than he would have preferred.
Instead, he chose to move the program along. "We're going to have a bit of a role reversal here," the doctor began, and Darcy knew that everyone who was watching could hear everything that was being said. "Nurse Carson and I are going to assist you. We'll do anything you tell us to do, as long as it's not something tiresome, like 'release her'."
Darcy didn't say anything as the doctor vacated his usual wheeled stool, rolling it towards her. She looked down at it for a long moment but didn't take it right away. She felt as if she was personally experiencing the struggle between good and evil that a lot of movie heroes do, and as much as she wanted to be strong and brave and turn and walk away from the whole scene, she couldn't quite manage to. The darker side of her personality was definitely winning.
And the doctor was no help. He was far from the patient type. In a very casual, conversational tone, he asked, "Did I mention that if I don't think you're being sufficiently harsh on her that I'm going to have you restrained on a bed right next to her?"
That was just the motivation Darcy needed to assume that unfamiliar position. She rolled herself between Angine's legs as the severely bound woman keened understandably. This wasn't something she would ever have anticipated—that the woman she had such an active hand in tormenting would, in turn, be allowed to do the same to her.
That was probably exactly what the doctor had planned from the beginning.
Of course, this was far from Darcy's first view of another female's genitalia. And in her professional judgment, Angine was surprisingly small in both places that counted in this situation. She had always portrayed herself as a party girl, but it appeared that just the opposite was true—more than likely, she was a cock-tease who got unfortunate men at bars all riled up, then refused to cooperate, because she looked as tight as a virgin.
And Darcy knew that was going to make the next couple of hours just that much harder on her, and she had to suppress a bit of a grin.
When she selected a dildo, she thought she probably had gotten the one that the doctor had first used on her—and not only was she was much more open than Angine appeared to be, she was also much wetter.
So, a lube of some sort would have to be used. It took her a bit to find what she wanted—it was hidden in the back. Darcy didn't know if that was on purpose, or what, but she decided she didn't care. She wanted to give Angine a taste of her own medicine—whether or not the doctor agreed. He could hardly claim that she wasn't being firm enough on her. Darcy could argue that from firsthand experience.
She noisily donned a pair of gloves, not wanting to risk her own skin in this endeavor. And before she dealt with the dildo in her hand, she grabbed two generous fingers full of Tiger Balm and covered the entirety of Angine's clit with it, very much as had been done to her, only once she'd slathered it there, rubbing some in but leaving a mound of it to melt into those delicate, slowly searing tissues, she leaned forward to blow on it, as if she was blowing on the embers of a fire in order to coax a flame to life, and that wasn't too far off from her intent.
She wanted Angine to feel like there was going to be nothing but a pile of ashes left where her clit once was, and, from the severity of her reaction, she was easily meeting—and probably exceeding—her goal.
Darcy was surprised at just how easy it was to ignore her attempts at screams. Perhaps if they hadn't been muffled, it might have been harder, but somehow, she doubted it. She was methodically concentrated on what she wanted to do—the reactions they elicited were peripheral, although they were also alarmingly exciting.
Since Angine couldn't see what was happening, she didn't try to be coy about applying it to the long, relatively thick length of rigid plastic. And then, without any further preparation, she lodged it at the entrance to Angine's cunt and shoved it up inside her with one tremendous push.
The poor young woman positively howled with discomfort and embarrassment as Darcy didn't stop there but proceeded to fuck her with it, using hard, unforgiving strokes as the straps and cuffs held Angine completely immobile; not that she ceased trying to escape, of course. She tried just that much harder to avoid each degrading stroke, to prevent that thing from being thrust up inside her, but there was nothing she could do to prevent it.
Finally, having determined by the relative ease with which her body accepted it that that dildo was entirely too small, Darcy decided to remove it and put it into the bag that Nurse Carson quickly offered, returning to the tray to select one that was easily twice as big.
This one was given the same generous coating of irritant, and Darcy knew she'd found the one she wanted when she tried to lodge it deep within the other woman and her body naturally tried to prevent her from doing so.
Not that Darcy let that deter her. She wasn't about to give up and forced poor Angine to stretch to a point that was obviously well beyond her usual capacity. The doctor held out a brace that would keep the stiff instrument in place, but before she relinquished that area, she wanted to do something that had been done to her so many times that there was no way she could count them. She removed the dildo momentarily and leaned forward to place her fingertips into Angine's trembling quim, raising them triumphantly at the crowd when they returned baptized in her copious juices.
"I think someone protests entirely too much, and I intend to rectify that situation."
The doctor and the highly sensitive microphone he was wearing were close enough to her to pick up what she'd said. The gallery erupted at her statement, and she could hear bets being placed about how long it would be before Angine fainted.
They all knew—including Angine herself—that if she did faint, that would not bring an end to her torture. She would simply be revived and they would carry on as if nothing had happened.
After rudely reseating the dildo, Darcy accepted the doctor's assistance, applying the brace to the bottom of the dildo and locking it into position so that it could not be expelled.
Next, she turned her attention to points south, decorating Angine's bottom hole in much the same manner as she had her clit, working it into the surrounding tissues with ruthless attention, then returning to the jar and gathering another several fingers full and poising them at the tight sphincter that was the entrance to her bowels.
Even knowing that she looked relatively untried back there, Darcy acted unmercifully, which was exactly as Angine had acted towards her. It wasn't one finger that she left there waiting, or even two. It was her index, middle and ring fingers pinched together into a cone that she began immediately working up through Angine's very reluctant opening.
Ah, now those were the muted protestations that she actually heard. Darcy didn't know why it was those in particular that got to her—and she wasn't much interested in analyzing her reaction, either—but they definitely did. She could also hear the murmurings of the audience above them on either side, who seemed to be at least as titillated as she was by what she was doing.
Titillated? Darcy considered the idea, wanting to reject it outright. But she knew the truth of it, too. No, there was no mistaking the dampness between her thighs, nor the fact that she had already resolved within herself to see this task through. She was very glad that there wasn't anyone who was going to be testing just how wet she was!
This little bit of torture, she took her time with, advancing slowly and never relenting, never allowing her adversary a moment's respite from the burning pressure she knew she was feeling, forced to open very wide like this with no preparation whatsoever, her skin burning even more so when it was stretched and the fiery oils seeped into every crack and crevasse and wrinkle.
When she'd gotten up to the second knuckle of each finger, she withdrew, wanting to save the hardest challenge for the plug she knew she was going to select. It was heavy, made of polished steel, and probably two and a half inches around. Because it was so smooth, she didn't use any kind of lube on it at all, not wanting to make it too easy on her victim.