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There is a buzzing sensation at the seam between my thigh and my pussy. It slides along the stripe of lubrication, mechanically massaging my labia.
“What is the—”
He cuts me off by pressing harder on my abdomen, pinning my hips to the table. The device slides rhythmically up and down, hitting some secret spot of tension between my hips.
“Just relax.”
A standard medical procedure, I say to myself. Just the usual. Just a doctor with a vibrator. Okey-doke!
“Some people even enjoy it,” he suggests in a low voice. I feel his hand nudge me a little farther toward the edge of the table.
Sure, just like Didi said, I tell myself. Standard medical procedure that everybody in town has had.
The faster that he gets done, the faster I’m going to be able to get my prescription and get out of here. Though I know this is going to be fruitless, I suppose it’s not entirely unenjoyable. It kind of tickles a little bit. I can feel muscles deep within me loosening up, muscles I didn’t even know were tight. And he is a medical professional, after all.
A medical professional I will never have to see again after next week.
“Very good,” he says encouragingly.
I feel myself relax a little bit more, just the way I’ve been trained to do. I guess we’re conditioned this way since our first pediatrician’s appointment at birth. They command; we respond. They praise; we wag our little tails. After all, even though the doctor always congratulates me on my healthy blood pressure, like I had anything to do with that, I always feel kind of proud of it anyway.
“Just like that,” he murmurs, moving the device upward in a slow arc. “Just let it build for a bit.”
I take a deep breath, imagining the sensation with my eyes closed. It’s like a flashlight beam wandering around a forest at night. Just moving along, sweeping back and forth over the groundcover.
“Excellent, Joanna,” he says encouragingly. “This may tickle just a bit…”
The hand on my belly shifts, adding pressure toward my pubic bone as the device slides between my labia. I suck my breath in between my teeth and automatically tense up.
“Relax, please,” he says louder, nudging me with more force as though reining a disobedient horse back onto a path. Automatically, I try to obey. I try to relax my thighs. I try to unclench my fists.
“Just concentrate on the sensation,” he directs me.
It’s a struggle. The sound is so distracting. That buzzing noise, it’s like a hive of hornets. The device slides over my clit, rhythmically massaging it in circles. It’s getting warm. Very warm. My belly begins to clench. I feel a brightness inside me, almost a cramp, almost a feeling like I have to—
“Really, I’ve got to go!” I announce, kicking my heels against the stirrups and pushing myself back up to sitting.
I snatch the gown over my breasts, pulling myself together, overheated and panting. Dr. Warner scowls at me and flips the device off, dropping it on a metal tray with a clang.
“My medical advice is—”
“I think you know enough about me now!” I huff. “I would just like that prescription, please!”
He snaps the blue gloves off one by one, flaring his nostrils as he drops them in the lidded garbage can.
“Of course,” he replies. “I will ask Jen to call it in for you.”
Shaking, I slam my knees together and curl my toes defensively. He crosses his arms and leans back against the counter as he looks me over.
“You need to take better care of yourself,” he announces as he clicks the pen open and scribbles on my chart. “You can’t just let things go, Joanna. You need to be proactive in your own health management.”
“Yeah, fine. Thanks for your time, Doctor,” I sniff, ready to get dressed and get the hell out of here.
“Okay, then,” he nods, taking a deep breath and flaring his nostrils as he squints at me curiously. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy your stay in Willowdale.”
I mutter my thanks, and he drops the manila envelope in a holder on the wall for the nurse to retrieve. Just before he leaves, he reaches out and pats my knee reassuringly. And dammit if that doesn’t work. I am fricking reassured, like a well-trained patient.
He leaves the office, and I hop off the exam table, leaving the paper torn and smeared with my own juices behind me. After a moment of hesitation, I rip the paper off the exam table and crumple it into a giant wad, then throw it away so Jen doesn’t see the remainders of our session.
