Laura Croft and the Venus Thigh Trap

Laura Croft and the The Venus Thigh Trap

M+/F, L Croft, NC, BDSM, Lact, Hum, Archaeology, Silly

All that legal guff about how you might be an innocent child,

or living under a censorious government, puritanical legal system,

your mother wouldn't approve, you should not be here, you really

must stop now, etc. Sigh... What a fucked up world. Anyway, what

follows is an explicit, graphic, extreme sexual fantasy.

You have been warned. Leave now if not already corrupted.

Any similarity of characters herein to persons real or fictional is

entirely for the purpose of caricature. And teasing.

This story was written by SensoryOverlord, and is Copyright 2006.

You may copy and read for free. Reproduction of this work for profit

is not OK.

I very much appreciate reader comments. Thanks to all those who have

written. To those who haven't... you suck. Stop sucking now. Write.

This chapter dedicated to LovelyNice. Thanks for the inspiration.

Part 5 of ?

Drifting, almost motionless with the arms and legs of her improvised leather

body-suit floatie cradling her nakedness in the placidly flowing water, Laura

barely touches her supersensitive clitoris. She is thinking how weirdly aroused

she has been feeling all today, and what she will do about her freakishly enlarged

breasts and clit, once she returns to civilisation. How she'll explain to her

friends, and... her doctor.

What if this kind of strange non-stop arousal really does turn out to be

something she has to live with all the time? Persistent, intense arousal...

How would she even explain it to her gynie? He's such a reserved old fellow.

What would he think? She never can tell what he thinks of her reactions when

he's running those tests, even though she finds the whole thing intensely

embarrassing. She's been going to him for yearly checkups ever since her dad

first took her there as a teenager. If she changed now, like to a woman gynie,

they'd never believe her story about the sudden physical changes due to the

vine. No, she'll have to go back to her old one.

She still vividly remembers the first time she went. Soon after her sixteenth

birthday, her father had explained to her that it was time she went to have

a 'women's checkup'. He'd sternly lectured her that this was something all girls

must do regularly, and that she must be completely candid with the doctor, who

would keep whatever she said in strictest confidence.

The man was an old family friend, and her mother had always gone to him, rest

her soul. He told her she'd find the experience awkward, but that she mustn't

worry about it - it was a medical necessity. She must do as Dr Prott instructed,

and not give the man any trouble, or her father would hear of it.

The rest of her week, till the time of the appointment, had been a churn of

mixed emotions and worry. She had only recently begun to experience some strange

new feelings 'down there' (as she'd thought of the place between her legs.)

She really didn't have any idea what they meant, and found them quite disturbing

and distracting. She'd be busy trying to concentrate on the lessons of her tutors,

or maintain her defence in a fencing lesson, or balance in gymnastics, and then

there would be that disconcerting heated itch down there again, tugging at her

focus. Perhaps there was indeed something wrong there, and the doctor could fix it.

She'd thought that would be a good thing, though she wondered how she'd go about

describing the symptoms. Somehow, she hadn't been able to tell anyone about them-

it seemed to make her feel flushed to even think about those feelings. Sometimes,

just worrying about them would actually seem to make them happen - which completely

confused her. What sort of illness could that be?

On the other hand, she supposed that the doctor might expect to actually look at

the place in question. Heavens, how that thought made her blush! She could barely

bring herself to look at it, in the bath. She couldn't remember anyone, ever,

having seen it. She supposed someone must have, when she was little. But now,

with the area hidden under a coat of recently grown dark fur, it seemed much more

private and secret.

Strangest of all, thoughts of her impending visit to the doctor, and having to

describe her problem, and show him.... there, would invariably make that hot itchy

fullness return to distract her. It seemed to be getting worse too - now she'd

find that somehow her panties would become damp, whenever that feeling occurred.

Was she wetting herself? What else could it be?

She even started to have trouble sleeping, with those troubling feelings becoming

frequent enough to keep her lying awake restlessly tossing.

It was one such night, two days before the trip to the doctor, when she'd felt

particularly uncomfortable, even aching, down there. She'd got up to go to the

bathroom to try going to the toilet. In the bathroom, she'd turned on the light,

then lifted her nightie and slid down her panties to sit on the toilet. As she

squatted, her dark-adapted eyes squinting barely open in the light, she happened

to glance between her legs, at the furry patch there.

And froze, in shock. 'Oh!' she'd thought. 'What is that!?' She could see something

red and shiny sticking out from between the slit there, where she normally avoided

looking. It is only small, but it was never there before. Now she can see it, she

realises that a lot of the disturbing ache she can feel is coming from that scary

red thing. So... there really _is_ something wrong with her! Oh no! Some sort of

growth, or something... How terrible!

She'd gone back to bed, almost in tears, worrying that perhaps she really was

seriously ill. But fortunately, she'd been able to sleep soon after. Next morning

when she looked again, the red sticking-out thing was gone, and she wondered if

she had dreamt that scary image. Was it real?

The day arrived, and her father instructed her to wear "a simple dress my dear,

and nothing fancy." She'd chosen a long, loose fitting white cotton dress with

an embroidered bodice, covering her from its high neckline to wrists and around

her ankles. Its only fault was a slight translucency of the delicate cloth, that

required her to wear near skin-toned underwear.

He'd sat in the back with her, making small talk as the Bentley's driver took them

into town. She'd often travelled overseas with her father on his trips, but the

local town was a place she'd hardly ever visited.

It seemed more foreign to her than Paris or Cairo. As she watched the view

out the car window, listening to her father's chatter about the latest finds

at a dig in Paraguay, her worries about the doctor receded. Even the

discomfort of that persistent itch which had been present since she woke that

morning, and her increasingly dampened panties seemed less worrying.

They stop in front of an Edwardian stone building near the town centre, and

enter. Inside it is all dark wood panelling with an air of considerable history,

apart from the anachronistic brushed stainless steel lift doors. Which her father

ignores, instead leading briskly up the stairs to the third floor.

Down a dimly lit corridor with the same styling of ornate timberwork, past various

doors both titled and unmarked to another such door. Here a brass plaque on the

wall proclaims "Dr J Prott, Sc.D., F.R.S.Ed., F.R.C.O.G., F.A.A.A.S., F.A.A.,

F.R.S. Professorial Fellow, Department of Obstetrics and Gynaecology, Royal Women's

Hospital."  He pushes open the door, and Laura finds herself in a modern, brightly

lit waiting room. A young woman, looking not many years older than Laura, with striking

Japanese features and jet black hair reaching just past her shoulders, glances up

from behind the reception counter. Laura finds her eyes drawn to a subtle reddish

streaking in the girl's hair - is that natural? Or does she dye it?

"Good morning! Ah, Mr and Miss Croft, here for your appointment?" Her father nods,

"Yes, good morning Hiromi."

"The doctor is just finishing up with someone, if you'll take a seat he won't be long."

Laura is surprised at the Japanese woman's accent - a strong American drawl, with

barely a trace of anything oriental.

They sit, and Hiromi goes back to whatever it is she is busy with on the computer behind

the raised counter top. Laura is feeling that itch back again, now that she is here,

and moments away from... whatever is going to happen. She looks around, and finds a

heap of magazines on a bench beside her. All of them featuring heavily made-up women's

faces on the cover. She picks one up, wondering what they might be about.

Flipping through it, skim-reading here and there, she is astonished! It seems to be

completely full of sensationalist trivia, without a single mention anywhere of anything

important, or any sign of connection to significant events of the real world. 'What

sort of people read this?' she wonders. People interested only in lipsticks, perfumes,

gossip, and articles on how to make themselves look... like the pictures on the cover.

She has to admit, some of those women do look very... um, glamorous, she supposes is

the right word. But haven't they got anything better to do? There doesn't seem to be

a single article on anything like archaeology, or any science at all for that matter,

in the whole magazine.

She is just picking up another magazine, wondering if they are all like that, when

a middle aged gentleman opens the other door in the waiting room, and ushers a

business-suited woman out. Laura looks at her, and the lady gives her a smile. She

seems calm, so Laura takes that as a good omen. Dr Prott hands some papers to Hiromi,

and the woman signs a form, then leaves.

"Ah, Richard! Good to see you! And this lovely young lady is your daughter, Laura?

It's a pleasure to meet you at last my dear. Richard has often mentioned how proud

he is of you. And no wonder. Well, if you would come this way..."

He holds open the door, and her father leads through, saying to the doctor-

"James, I won't stay, of course. Have some things I must see to in town. Just came to

do introductions." The doctor closes the door, and motions them to chairs in front of

his desk. This room is also in a modern style, and well lit. There are large windows

along one wall, but with translucent white drapes pulled shut. Another section of the

room is blocked off with a line of sliding curtains, now closed. Laura sits, but

her father remains standing.

"Now Laura, remember what I said. It is important to do as James says, and be open and

honest with him. No sense going to a doctor then going all shy! I'll be back later

to collect you when you are done here."

He turns back to the doctor. "James, as you know, this is Laura's first examination.

She's rather shy at times, but as we discussed, she'll have to learn to get past that.

She's growing to be a woman now, and so I think the full routine is appropriate, as

with Lady Croft. I'm sure you'll be as thorough as usual, and my business may well take

some time so don't rush things on my account. When you are done, if you'll call me on

my car phone, I'll return for her." He pauses, and Laura thinks she sees a brief,

strange look on his face. "Hummm... I do have to be back at Abbingdon by six this

evening though. So I'd hope any <ahem> extended procedures you may require could be

completed before, say five PM."

The doctor gazes neutrally and silently at her father for several moments, then nods.

"Very well. Good day to you then, Lord Croft."

Her father exits, with one last firm glance at Laura before he closes the door.

"Remember what I said now! I'll be expecting you to behave yourself young lady."

Floating down the river, naked, her fingers stroking teasingly at her sex, she says

softly to herself "But dad, you never did explain what you meant by 'behave yourself'.

I tried to be good. I really did. But I didn't know it was going to... to be so, so

physical."

She has been noticing something unusual about this recollection. The details seem

incredibly vivid and detailed, much more so than any other time she's thought about

that visit. Why, she could even read the lettering on the doctor's plaque! She can

recall exactly what people said, and how she felt, and thought. It's very strange...

but quite fascinating. She wonders if it has something to do with her arousal now,

or the disconnected floating feeling of drifting down the river.

In any case... she strokes her clitoris softly, its good-aching hardness reminding her

of how she'd sat there in that room, painfully conscious of the mysterious ache in the

secret place between her thighs, and suddenly realising that this visit might not be

the brief half hour or so she'd imagined. 'What? Five in the afternoon?! But it's still

only ten in the morning now! What could...'

Her dismay is interrupted by the doctor. "Well Laura! Welcome, and please don't feel

concerned. You look somewhat tense, but please relax. Now, since this is your first

visit I'd like you to fill out this questionnaire for the files, and then we'll get

started." He hands her a couple of pages of photocopied text.

"Take your time, but I must stress that it's important you do your best to answer all

questions correctly. I have some paperwork to do too, so don't mind me. If there is

anything you don't understand, just ask, OK?"

As he speaks she has looked him directly in the eyes for the first time. They are

piercing blue, and seem to drill right into her. Somehow they concentrate her attention

on his authoritative, smooth rolling words, and calm her worries.

Shyly, she nods, and takes the pen he offers her. The first few questions were simple,

name, date of birth, m/f, address, next of kin, height, weight, and so on. She'd begun

to relax already - this seems OK - when she came to the first question that confused

her. "Are you sexually active Y/N?" She wasn't sure what that meant, so couldn't be

sure of her answer. She pauses, wondering how to ask him what it meant, and why the

question seems to be making her blush.

After a few moments of indecision, the doctor (who has been discretely keeping an

eye her on while he writes in a journal) asks her "What is the matter, Laura?"

"Well... I... it asks if I'm ... um 'sexually... active'. But... I don't know... what

that means, so... I don't know." She feels like she must be stupid, but she did try

to be honest. She looks at Dr Prott, expecting him to say something disapproving.

Like her teachers when she makes a dumb mistake.

Instead, he simply leans back in his chair, with a sort of 'Ah!' look on his face,

and interleaves his fingers, tapping his thumbs together. He is silent for some

moments, then elaborates. "Ah."  More silence. Then he shakes himself very slightly,

and sits back up straight. Leans forward and smiles warmly at her, greatly relieving

her nervousness. His eyes catch and hold hers again as he speaks warmly.

"Oh, I'm sorry Laura, I guess I should have made those questions a bit clearer.

That one means do you have a boyfriend that you make love with. I expect the answer

is no, or you wouldn't be asking. Don't feel bad about it. Those forms are usually

filled out by people much older than you, who've had more experience of the ways of

the world. Not your fault. I'd better help you with the rest of the questions too,

since you may find some further difficulties there. You don't have a boyfriend, right?"

"N... no." She ticks the NO[] box, while wondering what 'making love' is exactly.

The next question is even more mysterious. "Do you masturbate Y/N?" She hasn't even

heard of the word 'masturbate' before, so is completely lost.

He watches her hesitating again. "This one... You don't know?"

"No. Uh, what does masti.. masturbate mean?" She stumbles over the pronunciation,

unsure how it should sound.

This time Dr Prott seems to find nothing unusual in her question. He starts into

a careful explanation - but she finds his description very surprising.

"Well now... some people, once they are sexually mature, develop a habit in which

they touch and manipulate their private parts, to sexually stimulate themselves.

Its generally considered a rather nasty habit, and one I'm glad you haven't taken

up, by the sounds of it, right?"

"Their... their private parts? You mean they touch...?"

"Yes, between their legs. That's right Laura. So I expect that one is a NO on your

form too, right?"

She firmly ticks the NO[] box, agreeing. Only why she is blushing so hotly, she has

no idea. She fidgets in the chair, wishing her own private parts were not feeling

so... uncomfortable.

"Hmmm, Laura, I think perhaps we needn't bother with the rest of those questions."

He reaches out and takes the sheets back, just as she was wondering what "Have you

ever had an STD? Y/N" might mean.

On her back in the river, with her hips shuddering in heat as she teases herself

mercilessly, letting the aching need build ever so slowly, expanding to fill

her whole body, she thinks what a naive young girl she was back then. She'd had

absolutely no idea. Since her mother's death when she was nine, she'd grown up

in a kind of 'girl stuff' information vacuum, as her life at Abbingdon exposed

her to virtually no one but her father, the very reserved house staff, and her tutors.

She really had begun to warm to the kindly old doctor, who seemed so warm and

understanding to her. The next part of her visit had been comfortable too, as he'd

taken her temperature, blood pressure, listened to her chest, felt her pulse, and

so on, much as with a visit to any other doctor. All the time he'd kept up a

distracting, reassuring chatter in that smooth voice of his. She'd found herself

quite fascinated by that voice, and somehow his eyes when they caught hers, seemed

to focus her whole attention onto the flow of his voice.

But then it had changed. Dr Prott had been jotting some more notes for a few

moments as she sat, waiting. Then he looked up at her, and instructed cheerfully-

"Now, next we need to examine your breasts. I see that your dress is a one

piece, and you'll be needing to take it off later anyway. So could you please

step behind the screen there and remove your dress. Undergarments as well."

She looks around, disconcerted, and sees that there is a folding screen behind

her, that had been hidden by the door when they entered. Then his final words

sink in, and she looks back at him in shock.

"Did.. did you say... my..?"

He looks back at her, neutrally. "Yes, your underwear. Or did you want to have to

undress twice? You'll need to remove everything in a moment anyway, so better all

in one go. You'll find it easier to get used to this way." He smiles, reassuringly,

his intense blue eyes holding hers. "Laura, I understand you may feel shy over

being naked, but here you are, at a doctor's, to be examined. Being embarrassed

about revealing your body isn't really helpful or useful, now is it? So... please..."

He points at the curtained off corner. "Let's get on with it, shall we?"

She stands, hesitantly, and doesn't think she has ever blushed as hotly as she

is now. Her father's admonition echoing in her mind, she cannot see any way to

avoid this, and anyway, her feet seem to be carrying her to the screen before

she can even consider the matter. Once behind the screen, the same process goes

on - she can't really think of anything else to do but proceed as instructed.

The flush of her face is so distracting, that she finds herself standing with

her dress in her hands before she has worked out where to put it. There are no

hooks or hangars inside the screen, only a chair just outside, by the door.

Or she could throw her dress over the top of the quite high screen, which is too

high for her to reach even on tiptoe. What about her underwear? She can imagine

trying to toss them onto the screen top, and having them flutter down outside,

as if she had deliberately tossed them over. Her blush becomes even more pronounced.

She'll be walking out naked in a moment anyway... so she steps out, in panties

and bra, to drape her dress carefully over the back of the chair. Turning, she

briefly sees Dr Prott looking up from his writing, startled, as she ducks back

behind the screen. For... the next part.

Resolutely, she quickly unhooks her bra, and slips it off. Then slides her panties

down her legs and off as well. As she steps out, blushing even more fiercely and

places her things neatly on the chair, she is relieved to see that the doctor is

not looking at her. He's busy with something on his desk. It turns out to be an

intercom, as he speaks.

"Hiromi?"

There is a pause, then a rather terse "What?" from the speaker.

Dr Prott snorts softly, amused. "If I may have your attention for a moment,

though I'm sure your translations are gripping, do you have any idea where the

clothes hangers from the change screen might have got to?"

Laura sits back down in her chair, somewhat distracted from her embarrassment by

this scene. There is a noise over the intercom that might have been an exasperated

exhalation, then several moments of silence before Hiromi replies.

"Well I didn't move them. They were there before Mrs Wilson came in this morning.

Where did she get dressed?"

"I'm not sure... I was washing up in back. Perhaps she moved over to the couch to

dress. Hiromi, could you be a dear and hunt them down? Miss Croft's garments are

on the chair by the door."

He releases the intercom button, but not before a muttered "Motherfu" is cut off by

the disconnection <click>.

The doctor was turning back to Laura, but freezes, half turned. After a moment he

blinks twice, then completes his turn, to consider Laura silently for several

moments more. He seems to be thinking of something else, not really seeing her.

He shakes his head. "Tsk tsk. She does get so engrossed in her translations.

I do wish she'd try to remember she's not in Texas any more. Such language! ...

Where were we? Ah yes, the breasts. Now Laura, what we will be do..."

He is interrupted as the door to reception opens briskly, and Hiromi strides through,

in tight blue jeans, black leather high heeled boots, and a loose fitting casual top.

Laura cringes in shock, but Hiromi ignores her and slips behind the curtain dividing

the room. There are sounds of her walking around back there, as Dr Prott continues.

Laura finds herself trying to think about three things at once - what the doctor is

saying, that Hiromi saw her naked, and strangely dominating the others - how very

short Hiromi is, even in the high heels. She hadn't realised, with the girl sitting

behind her counter top.

"Ahem.. What we will do, is palpitate around and on the breasts for lumps. This is

a check every woman should have done yearly, to discover any possible tumours at an

early stage. I'll have you lie down on the bench back there; its quite comfortable.

This check takes a while and..."

Laura finds herself distracted from the doctor's lengthy explanation by the return

of Hiromi, who bustles back out from behind the curtain with some clothes hangers in

hand. She looks right at Laura, and winks, mischievously and with a lovely smile,

apparently fully over her annoyance at being asked to go fetch.

As she walks behind Laura's chair, Laura wishes very much that the chair she is

sitting on wasn't an open-backed affair, with verticals only at the sides. 'If Hiromi

looks towards me, she will see my... my bottom!' But she can't turn around to see if

Hiromi is looking, because then she'd be even more exposed.... She cringes, trying to

shrink herself very small. There are rustling sounds, and then clinkings behind her,

then the sound of the door opening and closing, to more boot heel clicks. For some

reason, Laura becomes intensely aware again of the itchy ache between her legs.

The doctor continues. "That's better. We wouldn't want that fine dress to be creased.

Never mind Hiromi, she's a lovely girl, bright spark. Over here on a working holiday-

Escape from Texas and all that. Place full of racists and rednecks, like a lot of the

USA, you know. Good thing she's out of it. Going on to Australia next she says, for a

year of beaches in summer, then skiing in winter. Lucky girl, don't you think?

Funny sense of humour though. She mentioned quite seriously that she intends to hunt

down some unwanted Australian admirer with dogs and assassinate him. Seems she's not a

fan of his writing. Hopefully she was just kidding. Now, as I was saying, this check

takes a while, and as I gather you are finding this all a bit worrying, I've a little

exercise I'd like you to concentrate on to help you relax."

He stands, and walks to a join in the dividing curtain, holding it aside. "If you will

please step this way, Laura?" He gestures, arm extended into the other space, his eyes

locking hers with a direct and commanding gaze.

Once again Laura finds herself acting before she can work through the complexities

of emotion she is feeling. She is standing, and walking towards the doctor while

still preoccupied with that itch, and remembering that she should have to mention

it to the doctor. And that... red thing. She is afraid to look down at herself, to

see if it is there now. It feels like it might be. Dare she look? What if it is, and

he can see it already? What if...

She finds herself being guided by the doctor's hand on her shoulder, to a waist high

padded bench. The rest of the room barely registers, as he speaks. "If you will just

lie down here, on your back please. .... good, thank you. Now, rest your arms by

your sides... you'll feel much more relaxed soon. Do you see the crystal hanging there

from the ceiling? See how it catches the sunlight, and the rainbows that swing round

and round as it turns in the air. Rainbows are so restful, don't you think? I'd like

you to watch the rainbows, and think about how they are the colours of the sun, all

spread out. See them spinning, slowly, round and round... Just concentrate on the

colours, and you will feel relaxed... You see... so relaxed... Now, I'm going to be

pressing here... around your breasts, softly, like the rainbows, moving around and

around, slowly, softly around the circle... you can let yourself drift, drift like

the rainbows, just drifting, a little sleepy... rainbows and light, spreading out

and feeling sleepy, sleepy and drifting away... calming, you are feeling yourself

slowing down, circling, softly with the rainbows, drifting and circling, softly,

becoming quiet, worries slipping away as you feel sleepy... the rainbows carry you

into peace and calm... you are feeling so warm and calm, sleepy.... sleep....

Drifting on the river, Laura is finding that there seems to be some kind of dream

within the daydream at this point. She can remember... its odd, she doesn't now

remember ever recalling that spinning crystal before, when she thought about that

visit. She'd always thought he'd just spent a long time pressing her breasts all

over, while chatting to her calmingly. So calming, that although she'd been terribly

embarrassed at first, she had quickly relaxed and lay here accepting everything that

happened. Including that the feelings between her legs had grown even stronger with

his touches on her breasts, and she'd seemed to become out of breath, and she'd found

that her hips insisted on making small tensing thrusts.

But now... she can remember that there was more... as if he had talked to her for

a very long time, as she lay there with the feel of his hands moving on her breasts.

But she still can't recall more clearly. Just feeling a drifting sensation, much like

now. She remembers also having an incredibly intense and urgent hot excitement, centred

in her crotch, but also her breasts.  So intense her breathing was coming in short

panting gasps, and her hips tensing and flexing without her conscious control.

Her memories of this interval, before, were always brief and quickly moved on to

latter events of that day. But now, she recalls the entire feeling vividly, as if she

is back there again. God! The memory is so strange! She can feel how intensely aroused

she was, and how intensely embarrassed, but also remember the strange kind of passive

unquestioning mental state, that had her simply lying there, arms limp at her sides,

staring up at the ceiling and the spinning crystal. Not even wishing she could

do anything about the feelings in her body. Not wondering what they were, or why.

Just feeling, the intensity blinding her, as if she stared unblinking into the sun.

And then he had her get up, and... no... wait... that was after... there was something

more... that girl...

Laura finds that something is drifting up in her memory, as if popping to the surface

of the river like a bubble of gas from deeply sunken sediment. Something she has never

recalled before. Something more that happened as she was lying there, semi-dozing.

There was a time when the doctor wasn't near her... talking, but not talking to her...

she can... remember... she just hears the voices nearby, as she stares up at the ceiling....

He was talking to Hiromi, a low even monologue... only a fragment comes to her.

"...deeper and deeper. So deeply asleep... You can hear my voice, and understand only

my voice. You are sleeping and listening to my voice, and you will understand and what

I say is true. You will always remember what I say, and do what I say, and be what I

say and believe what I say to you now. What I say is you, Hiromi, are as good as anyone

else. You are a strong, brave, calm person. All your anger and pain from your past, from

the racists, from the fools, is melting away. It is gone. You feel calm, and happy, and

strong. You enjoy life, you love life and yourself, your beauty *and* your mind. You have

nothing to be ashamed of, no need to be offended by other's failings, no need to run away

from people who admire you. You are confident and active, and working to achieve your

goals in life, without anxiety or fear. You will understand when people admire you, that

they admire _you_, for yourself, not just for your race, or gender or some other superficial

attribute. You _are_ you, and that includes both your race and sex, so you will stop expecting

everyone to be interested in 'you', while ignoring part of what you are - a very fine looking

clever Asian girl. You will be confident in yourself, in your strength and flexibility, and

so be able to bend and adapt to others when you wish, without fear that you might break.

You will not break, because you are flexible and calm.

You can listen to other's ideas and discuss them fairly, even if you disagree. Criticism

will help you learn about yourself, it will not make you feel uncomfortable and want to

shut the person out. There are a great many things and ideas in the world that you still

know nothing of, and you will find learning new things a joy. People who tell you things

you don't know are being kind, not trying to attack you. You will be able to listen, and

consider the ideas, not dismiss the bearer out of hand. You do not need to wield absolute

power over discussions on your web forum - let the majority take care of the nuisances

for you. You are not Stalin, and you don't need to delete histories that you don't like.

You will get a more interesting class of readers and posters, if you quit kicking out

anyone who shows up with some spine and opinions that surprise you. There is no moral or

logical victory to be had by rigidly shutting someone out, simply for being different.

That way lies only insularity and stasis. Allow yourself to be challenged by the unexpected,

and the unexpected and wild will come to you, and help you grow.

And you will fucking stop swearing all the time, when it isn't appropriate. Especially

not in my rooms or you will get your charmingly formed arse fired. Use swearing wisely,

never automatically and not at people who are trying to help you out by permitting you to

earn some extra cash by doing your own interpreting jobs on the side while working here.

All these things you will remember deep inside. You will not remember that I told you

these things, or anything else that happens here today.

But you will always know what I told you now, as part of yourself, part of what you are.

Everything that happens here today with Miss Croft will seem perfectly normal to you,

and you will assist me as required, as you would with any other patient. After you leave

here today you will remember only that Miss Croft visited today for some standard tests,

and nothing unusual occurred."

Laura is astonished at what she is remembering. Perhaps she is somehow making this up?

How could she remember all that, even if it was real? And it feels so... strangely like

some kind of... not a dream exactly, but... weird. It is so detailed, she can even hear

the intonation. But it doesn't come with any sense of how _she_ was reacting to hear it.

As if she was just some sort of passive recording machine, lying there on the bench,

panting with the heat in her body, yet unthinking, unjudging.

She never had recalled this before, she is sure. Now she has, if it is real, the whole

episode becomes clear. Prott had hypnotised Hiromi! It's obvious now. That explains some

things she remembers about Hiromi, later that day. Something she'd always thought very

odd and unexplainable about her memories of the events.

Oh god... even skirting close to thinking about ...later... makes her want so badly to

let herself come *right* *now*. She is feeling so hot its amazing the river water isn't

boiling into steam all around her. Her clit is so hard it pulses painfully with every

heartbeat, and now she can stroke it with one fingertip, and it doesn't slip aside.

She could come... just one firm stroke... but she resists, fascinated with the line

of these revelations. Some freak of memory this is- who knows if it can be repeated

another time, or even after she comes? She wants to know more of what happened that

day. She lets a single finger barely graze across the tip of her hypersensitive clit,

shuddering at the touch. Ohhhhh godddd..... She remembers now what he made poor

Hiromi do next.

He had paused in his stream of words to the hypnotised Hiromi. Time seemed undefined in

this memory, and she had no idea how long he'd remained silent. Then... "There is still

the matter of your swearing on the intercom in the hearing of a patient. That cannot go

unaddressed. Hmmm... Unaddressed or undressed...  Hiromi, on awakening you will remove

your boots, jeans, and panties. You will then go back out and continue with your work

at reception, naked below the waist. You shall remain that way the rest of the working

day. You will be aware of your condition, and it will intensely embarrass you, but you

will not want to or be able to dress yourself. You will not know why you do not, you

will not even think about it. You will just know that today you are semi-naked at work."

"I don't expect any other visitors today, but if anyone does come in, remain seated and

they won't know. But you will know. Also, whenever there is no one there, you will feel

compelled to masturbate, but only to just shy of orgasm, at which point you will feel

compelled to stop masturbating until you have completed another page of translation.

Then you will begin again until near orgasm, and so on. When anyone comes in from outside,

you will announce them to me as usual, then ask 'may I?' If I say 'you may' you will

immediately masturbate to orgasm. You will remember for today that I have given you these

instructions, and that you must obey them, but you will not know why you do. Once you

leave at the end of the day, you will forget all about your semi-nakedness today too.

Now, in a moment you will awaken and then you will undress as instructed, place your

clothes on the chair by the door, then go to your desk. I will call you when I need you.

You will awaken when I count to three, and you will not remember having been asleep.

You are starting to come awake, one... nearly awake.... two... and... three.....

Thank you Hiromi, could you file these notes for me please?"

She remembers a pause, then Hiromi's voice sounding a little perplexed. "Sure doc.

Oh! I almost forgot, I'd better undress now, just a moment."

"Thats fine Hiromi, if you do that over by the chair, I can get back to my patient."

Laura is stunned, in addition to being in near-orgasm overload. She'd thought Dr Prott

was such a dry and proper old fellow. Seems she was greatly mistaken. She's lucky he

didn't try anything strange like that with her! She wonders why he didn't, considering

that he probably could have hypnotised her too if he'd wanted to. Maybe that he was

apparently on such close terms with her father? In any case, he'd certainly been

nothing but kind and correct with her, and gone to great lengths to help her feel

as comfortable as possible through the rest of the day's quite lengthy procedures.

She remembers... after Hiromi left the room, still unseen by Laura, Dr Prott had come

back over to her. He'd loomed above her, as she lay staring at the ceiling. This part

she had always remembered, as near the very end of the breast exam. She'd been still

burning with the heat she didn't recognise or feel any wish to change, when he'd placed

his hands on her breasts again, clasping them firmly, kneading and squeezing.

He'd continued for some while, working repeatedly closer to her nipples, then rolling

them between his fingertips softly for a while to check them, then returning to

testing her entire breast mass for lumps. She always sort of recalled this bit, but

now... there is a lot more clarity.

Gradually, as he examined her breasts so professionally, he started to softly remark

on the colours of the crystal's rainbows, and she found her mind filling again with

their steady sweeping orbits, and his smooth voice.

"... and the colours, all around and inside you, filling every part of you, bringing

that feeling of yearning, that need that has your pulse racing, and your breath so fast,

and your secret place so full of aching pressure and emptiness at once that you wish

you could faint, but you can't, and it just goes on and on, as you ache for some way

to find release, but you don't know how and you think you'd like to touch there to

rub that itch, but you know you must not, and what if someone knew, and that makes the

itch worse, and you are closing your eyes now with the feelings in your body so intense,

closing your eyes, and you can't see the colours any more, the feelings are always so

strong and demanding as you slip into sleep, into deeper sleep while you can still hear

my voice, but the colours are wonderful pleasure and frustration at the same time and they

work into every part of your mind and you know they will never ever really go away now,

and you are asleep, deeply asleep, but your body stays so hot and excited, and in your

dreams the heat creeps in, so you imagine your body, naked as it is now, naked and open

and excited, discovered by others in its shameful need and wanting, and you know that

they will do things to you that feel so good, and make that need and wanting stronger,

and you wish they would. And wishing makes you ashamed, but even more excited, and you

know they would know you wanted them to, and so they will, and you are drifting deeply

asleep, and I'm going to count to three and on three you will wake and remember that

you have been having your breast exam. You will forget that I gave you all those

instructions, but everything I've told you will be still be there inside. You will feel

so excited you can hardly bear it, but you will bear it, and we shall go on with your

tests with everything normal and ordinary, no matter what you feel or experience, and

in your deep, deep sleep you hear me counting, one... and you begin to awake, two...

nearly awake, three..."

"All right Laura, your breasts seem to be perfectly healthy, you see? So that's done.

Did you manage to relax for that? You seemed to almost fall asleep for a little while

there. Feeling OK?"

She'd gasped, feeling that she'd just woken from sleep. She had thought... she had.

Her body is on fire, with that same troubling heat she has felt lately, but oh so much

more intensely now. Her hands clench, then circle restlessly by her sides, finally

coming to rest palms flat against her thighs above her knees. She wants to stroke...

something. Ohh...  her hands rub up and down her thighs, fingers splayed. She is

panting, as if she can't catch her breath. She can feel her whole body undulating,

as if it wants... she doesn't know what. The doctor is still stroking her breasts,

and that seems to be something like what she wants, as she finds herself arching up

to press against his contact. She realises he asked her a question.

"I... uh... uh... I'm... OK.... ohhhh... hooooohhhh.... I feel.... hoooooohhhhhh..."

"Ah, a little excited? The breast exam can do that sometimes. Next we'll do the

pelvic inspection... but first.... I notice you have quite a prominent clitoris,

currently erect. Here, you see? Do you know what a clitoris is?"

She'd lifted up her head to look down to where he was pointing, and discovered that

his fingertip was nearly touching... .that... red thing poking out from her secret

place again. For a moment she feels a flash of that panic she'd felt when she saw it

before, at her toilet. But then the panic goes as quickly as it came, and she finds

herself still looking at the thing between her legs, and feeling... only that same

breathless excitement. Its all right, the doctor is going to tell her...

"Oh... uh..  noooo... I oohhhhh... don't.... ohhhhhhh.... I saw it ouuuhhh... before,

and... oouuhhhhh was afraid it.... ouhhhhhhh... was something ouuhhhhh wrong... with me."

"Hmmmm.. No, no, it's perfectly normal Laura. Nothing to worry about. It will always

grow firm and poke out like that when your body is excited, and you'll find that your

body will often become excited as you mature. More and more often... and you will find

yourself feeling urges and desires that become very strong... extremely strong at times,

but it is best to resist them. You will find that the longer you do resist, the more

intense the desires will become to relieve the urges. But resist... resist... you must

think about how shameful it would be if someone were to find you touching yourself here,

touching yourself and masturbating... you will think what might happen then... if you

were caught. You'd be punished for being naughty, and do you know how naughty girls

who play with their privates are punished Laura? They are punished _here_ Laura... and

here... where it is very, very shameful and exciting to be punished. In a little while,

you will discover exactly how shameful and exciting."

As he says 'here' the first time, he moves his fingers to stroke along Laura's clitoris,

which he manipulates briefly, before slipping his fingers down to press them against

her privates below there. The feelings are like nothing she has ever experienced!

A lightning stroke of intensity, of power, of roaring response in her body, that lasts

much longer than his brief touches. Her body seems to become more breathless, and she

feels that it wants those touches to continue. But she still remains calm in her mind,

accepting the experiences as they come. The doctor knows best.

"You'll be most surprised. But of course it's all normal for an examination. Come along,

stand up now, and step over here. Here, I'll help you. Up you get... that's it.. now this

way... good, don't worry, its all normal and routine, you're feeling a little dizzy

aren't you? Nothing to be worried about, come and lie down on this chair. Its comfortable,

and see, it has places to rest your feet... there, that's the way... comfy, yes? Just relax,

let your knees fall outwards, that's right... put your hands here, and you are feeling very

limp now, and your hands are falling limp on the rests, and they'll stay there until I

say you can move them, and you'll forget about them as the sensations in your body seem

so intense, and urgent, and you'll pay attention to them, and let them flow over you

and all around you, all around and through you, as we go on to the next part of the

examination, which will all be normal and routine no matter how intense the feelings grow."

She had been slow to rise when he first told her to stand, and he'd helpfully slipped a

palm behind her shoulders, and his other hand cupping her breast, two fingers gripping her

stiff-feeling nipple. He'd lifted her, and she had indeed been feeling quite dizzy and slow.

Once she was standing, he'd led her kindly by the nipple over to something that looked

like a very complicated chair, with all sorts of chromed and jointed bits sticking out,

supporting various padded rests. Sitting herself down in it, she'd found that her body

lay right back, and her feet lifted up and fitted into padded things much like fluffy

lined boots, that come quite high up her shins. As he keeps talking to her calmly, she

feels her ankles being gripped closely as he does something with the foot holders. They

are quite warm and cosy. She lets her knees fall widely apart at his suggestion, while

at the same time her feet swing even further apart. She thinks that she must be supposed

to be spread so widely open like this, with her secret place very definitely not secret now.

Or the doctor wouldn't have pushed her feet so wide.

"Now, you'll find that sometimes your body will want to toss around as we proceed, and you

might fall off the chair and hurt yourself. So I'll help you by fitting a few straps, here,

lay your head right back, that's right, and here... and here..."

She finds that the head rest is quite far back, and as she lets herself relax back into

it, she loses sight of her body entirely. He fits a wide strap over her forehead, and

tightens it. She realises that even if she wanted to look at herself now, she couldn't.

Next she feels another strap fitting over her chest above her breasts, and under her

armpits. Then two more over her arms, just above the elbow.

"There now. Next, we tilt back a bit more..."  The whole chair swings back, lowering her

head, and bringing her hips and legs to be the highest points. The backrest changes shape

too, with the portion under her rear dropping away somewhat, so her back is more arched.

Her back tenses at the movement, and she finds that her hips have a great deal of freedom

to move up and down. In fact, her whole torso does, except for the area of her shoulder

blades, which are held against the chair by the strap over her upper chest. Her hips sink

back to the rest. The fastenings on her lower legs seem to have become locked at an angle

that prevents her from bringing her knees closer together. She realises that when her hips

lift up, as they seem to want to do all by themselves, she is pushing her wide open secret

place straight up into the air, where the doctor can see everything. And could touch...

She remembers that flash of intense feeling when he did touch here there. Her hips seem

to remember too, and thrust sharply up all on their own. She feels very glad he is such

a kind, professional doctor, even though this position is _so_ embarrassing, there's nothing

to worry about. She is proud of herself for being very good so far, and determined to make

no mistakes.

"All right. Now... since you seem to be entirely unaware of your sexual parts, a little

instruction as we proceed. Just close your eyes, listen to my voice, and concentrate on

what you feel. Relax, let your hips fall back, they are feeling heavy, and so relaxed, you

don't want to lift them, you can't lift them, no matter if you wanted too, as you feel my

finger parting your secret lips that are so swollen and hot and itchy with your excitement.

You can feel my finger sliding in the slippery wetness, that is your sexual lubricating

fluid, that will always be produced in large amounts whenever you are feeling even slightly

excited. That slippery wet feeling, you find it so shameful, yet exciting to think of what

it is for... which is to help fill the hot emptiness back here... you feel my finger going

inside here... sliding in with your lubrication, deep inside... this is your vagina. Its

purpose is to receive the male penis, which is typically hard, long, and thick.. much much

more than my fingers. Here is a replica penis... open your eyes for a moment..."

She does, and in front of her eyes she sees his hand holding a strange, irregularly ribbed

rubbery cylinder, with a bulging head at one end. It seems very large... She stares at it,

blankly. Does something like that go inside her? In her... vagina?

"Close your eyes again. Thats right, your eyelids are so heavy, you cannot open them.

Concentrate on the image of that penis, as you feel my finger moving inside you, sliding

in, and out... in.... you badly want to feel more... your muscles squeeze down on my finger,

and relax, and squeeze, and that feels very good to you, but so very empty. You will find

that whenever you are very aroused, your vagina will have such contractions, as it yearns

for something inside. Something much bigger than this finger... Now, I'm holding my finger

still, with only the tip inside you. Feel how frustrating that is! If only you could move

your hips! And now I've taken it out... and you can feel the penis pressing against your

lips, and you feel so empty inside, and all it would take would be one push upwards with

your hips, and now you can move your hips, and you push, and there it goes, popping inside

so easily and its so big and long, and you can keep pushing up and up, and there is more

and more of it, filling you so deeply... so nice to squeeze tightly down on, as you thrust

your hips up and down, that's it, push, and lower, push... there, that's right..."

She remembers how astonishingly good that had felt. So good she'd thought of nothing but

to thrust her hips as he'd said. She'd heard some clinking noises that barely registered,

then the penis had taken on a more solid feeling, as if it no longer shifted at all when

she thrust herself up onto it. Even better!

"There! That's locked in position now. You will keep on pushing yourself onto the penis,

as you are, for the next part of our examination. This time, we will be checking whether

your body's sexual reflexes can achieve orgasm via vaginal stimulation alone. Keep going,

that's it, push, push... you'll begin to feel a kind of hot tension building inside...

an urgency, a need to go faster and faster... this is expected... let it build, don't

be afraid, its all normal... You feel the sensation growing till you think you'll explode,

but you won't, you'll just keep on thrusting... you find that you want more and more to

cry out as your breath comes faster, as you want to scream with the tension... this is

normal... you are unable to hold your cries... that's good! Cry out... push...."

Her memories of this part are so vivid! This is one part of that whole examination that

has always stood out in her memories of that day. She hadn't known what to expect, but had

become so totally carried away with the feelings, had been yelling and moaning so loudly,

that she'd been quite unable to hear anything more that the doctor had said to her. She'd

lost herself in the unbelievably intense sensations of that rubber penis, that had felt so

huge inside her, as her whole body had wound up like some kind of spring driven thrusting

clockwork machine, pounding away the seconds until... just as she believed she could not

possibly stand it a moment longer, but her hips had kept on driving the penis in anyway...

Her consciousness suddenly exploded with an all-obliterating chime of pure ecstasy. Her

mind felt like a gong, struck in the pleasure centre with a huge hammer, her whole body

shuddering in resonance to the ringing, unbearable, heavenly note. It faded slightly, then

her hips gave another jerk, and the note struck fully again. And again... And again...

She had no way of telling how many times it happened, as one who lies half asleep, half

dreaming as a clock chimes midnight. In dreams, one cannot count.

Gradually, she'd become so out of breath that her own cries became faint, and she once

again became aware of the doctor speaking to her.

"Well, that appears to settle that question satisfactorily. You are feeling calmer now,

and relaxing, letting your hips drop back and rest. That's it, your breathing is slowing,

but you still feel the head of the penis in your vagina, and you can feel a little of

the tension remaining. You are relaxed, enjoying the glow from your orgasm. So relaxed,

you cannot move your hips at all... totally limp, but still that need inside... I'll

reposition the penis... so its horizontal, and sliding it fully inside... deep inside

now, even deeper than you felt it before. Pushing hard up inside you, till you feel it

push your womb. Lock it in place. There. You wish you could move, to feel it move inside,

but you can't. You are so limp and relaxed, all you can do is squeeze your vagina on the

penis, wishing it would move. There, just so.. squeeze... and relax, squeeze.. relax...

How you wish it would move! It doesn't move... instead... it vibrates! Ah ha! That startled

you, didn't it? But you are relaxed, this is just a normal examination, you are so relaxed

that your eyes fall shut, but you are awake, and feeling everything intensely, as the penis

throbs inside you, and all you can do is squeeze down on it, as you feel it exciting you

again... forcefully, uncontrollably, irresistibly... you think you'd like to wait, to slow

down, to hold it back. You try... try to stop the tension building. You tell yourself that

its only a sensation, its your body, and you can control it... but you can't. That feeling

keeps building, doesn't it? There's nothing you can do to stop it, once it's started. You

can't make yourself even fight it any more. It becomes a driving need, beyond you ability

to hold back. I've told you that masturbation is a nasty, shameful habit, sure to get you

into trouble once begun. Because it is an addiction - once you begin, the sensations take

over your body, and you cannot resist. Feel that need growing, growing, sense the power

of it. So hard to fight it once it gets a hold. Once your body's desire becomes so strong

that it overcomes your will power and you begin to masturbate, you will find it overpowers

your resistance, and you will be unable to stop yourself. You will struggle to stop, to

hold off, to postpone the ultimate shameful abandonment of self control in orgasm. You will

always try though, try to resist, to hold off, to stop. You will think of what would happen

if someone discovered you in your shameful self-abuse. Imagine- you will never be able

to orgasm quietly, and suppose someone heard your cries! What would your punishment be?

Imagine! Suppose they decided to match your punishment to your guilty actions! They might

administer the same as your naughty actions, but without the release! Imagine

being kept excited, but always just short of that moment you experienced just now!

An exquisite, delectable torment. Don't you think that would be a fitting punishment for

a naughty girl? Feel that intense tension growing in you now... consider how it will

be to be unable to relieve it. Or if you did not allow yourself to relieve it, when

you are masturbating, and you know you should be punished for being so nasty, and so you

imagine you are not permitted to orgasm."

In the years since, whenever she recalls this part of her examination she is amazed at

how accurate doctor's Prott's good advice had been. He had warned her about masturbation,

yet it seemed that in the months after that first visit her body's desires (as she had then

come to recognise those feelings in her private places) had grown ever more insistent.

It didn't help that she'd had the memories of the rest of that day's examination, and the

multiple orgasms she'd been required to experience as the doctor gave her test after test.

That one with the vibrating rubber penis had continued on for a very long time. He'd spent

most of that interval warning her of the addictive nature of masturbation, and how intense

sexual desire could become when the body is overstimulated. He'd demonstrated by turning

down the vibrations whenever it seemed that her body was edging up to the orgasmic peak.

He'd wait a while till her moans quietened, and her breathing steadied somewhat, then he'd

turn it up again. Around the time she'd started whimpering with desperation, he'd explained

that another peril of sexual excitement, is that in extreme instances it can lead a girl to

beg pitifully, and promise to do literally anything in return for relief. He'd proven that

truth to her very effectively; before he allowed her another orgasm she had promised to

give him her entire collection of Archaeology Review, to write him a twenty thousand word

essay on the Morphology of Newts, and act as demonstration gynaecological model for his next

lecture at the teaching hospital. It had turned out later that he was just kidding, though

he'd kept up the pretence about the lecture for several weeks. Somehow he'd even had her dad

going along with the pretence, and she'd really thought she'd have to do it, right up till

the day of the lecture. Even then he only phoned to say he'd found a substitute for that

day, and he might call on her to fulfil her promise at some future time.

He'd certainly made his point. She recalls lying there, feeling limply unable to move more

than a quiver, begging desperately between moans of panting frustration. "Ohhhhaaaauuhh!!

Ohhhhuuhhh! Ooohhh Pleeeeaaaasee... Ouuuugghhhhh! Owwwwwwwhhhhhh! Oohhh ! Ohhh!!! OhGod!

OhGod! Ohh! Ohhhyesss oooo yesss oh please a little bit... ohgod soooo ohhh uh! uh! uh! ohh..

uh! uh! Ohhhhyess.. oh a so... uh! UH UHHH! Ohhhh OOOOOOOOOOOOOoooo nooooooo! PLEEEEASE!

OOOHH GODDDddddd don't... *please* turn it back oohhhhnnn? Oh! Uh UH YESSS! Uh Uh Oooooo

nooo... please I promised... I'll do it, pleeese.... anything...ohhhh oh! Ohhh! UUUHHH!

OOohhoooonnnoooo.... oh God why are you doing this to me? Ohhh OhhhHHH! OOH!!!... "

"I'm doing this as part of a full range of sexual function tests, as well as a lesson in

sexuality for you. All perfectly routine, Laura. Now, time's getting on, and I think we've

demonstrated the nature of desire to you adequately by now. There's another lesson next.

I tell you what. I'll let you orgasm now, on the condition that I then leave the penis in

place and vibrating at full strength for the next half an hour as I write up my notes."

Whereupon he had done exactly that. She felt it buzz into full strength inside her aching

centre, and within moments her second ever orgasm struck. This one was different - rather

than a sequence of peaks, it felt like a huge wave that washed through her whole body,

tumbling her conscience under, and just kept on tumbling her over and over. It churned on

and on as her vagina spasmed tightly on the humming shaft so deeply and thickly skewering

her sex. Gradually, like a rip current pulling her mind into the depths of lassitude, it

ebbed away. Except that the darned thing was still thrumming powerfully inside of her, so

strongly it was on the edge of painful now, when she just wanted to rest.

She wanted to pull herself up off it, but felt so limp, so exhausted that even if she

wasn't strapped in, she'd not be able to move. She tried to push it down, out of her, but of

course it was fixed in place somehow. She tried relaxing, she tried clamping down on it.

Nothing made any difference to that incessant throbbing. Only, now she could feel some

of that tension coming back. Her clitoris, that had ceased to ache when she came, now

was beginning to feel itchy and hard again. Her vagina had begun clamping and relaxing

on the penis again, and each time it did, the throb in her clit seemed to get worse.

As she began to pant irregularly again, the doctor had spoken from somewhere across the

room. "The purpose of this check, is to verify that your body has the normal multi-

orgasmic response to constant strong stimulation. You will find it rather taxing, but

don't be alarmed, the feelings are intense but harmless. You may lose consciousness

at times, but that too is normal."

There'd been a pause, as her sex absorbed more of the pulsing beat, winding her higher.

"Oh by the way. There are also some who feel that multiple forced orgasms are a suitable

punishment for masturbation. Especially when interposed with lengthy periods of abstinence.

I myself consider this view has some merit, especially when the punishment orgasms are

administered in a humiliating setting such as oh, naked in front of other family members,

the servants, or outdoors. And combined with some standard chastisement such as a spanking

or paddling. That's the sort of thing a young woman should worry about, when weighing

her body's lustful urges against the likelihood of being discovered in the act. There

is another factor too - when in the grip of sexual need, and torn with the conflict

between guilt and desire, it is difficult to remember to do things like locking doors.

In fact young ladies with such thoughts on their mind seem to forget details like door

locks so often, that one suspects there is a degree of guilty subconscious desire to be

discovered. Quite likely, since a decent young woman who has fallen into the habit of

masturbation would naturally sense that her own willpower was proving insufficient to

the task of controlling her urges, and that stronger measures would be needed. She'd

be unable to confess her unsavoury practices to those close to her, thus leaving

discovery in the act as her only hope of putting a stop to it. It seems as well, that

desire for such discovery leads to a preoccupation with thoughts of its consequences,

and heightened sexual tension and libido, thus further increasing the chance of discovery.

Ah, but I see you about to endure your third orgasm ever. You'll notice over the next

half hour that they will become ever more intense and all consuming. This sort of

learned orgasmic intensity effect is ...."

She had burst into the cries of orgasm as he spoke, and he'd paused, waiting for her to

finish. As she eventually did, gasping and sighing at the still-throbbing vibrations in

her now very sensitive vagina. This one had hit her by surprise, like a blossoming

fireball of heat that rippled through her body unexpectedly.

"Good, good, that's the way. You see how rapidly the desire returns! Well, as I was saying,

this sort of learned orgasmic intensity effect is very pronounced over the short term.

It also seems to have a significant lasting effect as well, where an episode of intense

and sequential orgasms such as you are beginning now, actually conditions the body's nervous

system to exhibit more intense and multiple orgasms overall. Of course, that will be of

no consequence to you in the next few years, unless you were to succumb to the temptation

to masturbate.

One thing you will notice though as a result of today's tests, is that you'll often

experience quite vivid recollections of these new and intense sensations. I should warn

you, that it is natural for such thoughts to be accompanied by a strong physical response.

Do not be alarmed at this, it is expected. Human sexuality is a complex system, in which

the mind and body are closely linked and interacting. Experiencing these feelings is part

of adulthood, as are these tests to check that your body is healthy and functioning

properly. Sexual arousal, and sexual desire, are integral and very powerful components

of the mind's and body's reproductive imperative. Puberty is the time in which these

physical and psychological urges manifest themselves, and a time in which we must develop

the strength of will to manage them in a civilised fashion. With some shameful unfortunates,

the desires grow to be greater than the available will, and masturbation is the result.

As for these tests, as I warned you, you will find that your mind will tend to dwell on

the sensations. The physical desires are likely to be extremely powerful at times... you

recall the promises you made to me a few minutes ago in order to obtain relief? I haven't

forgotten those, of course! Regarding the demonstration modelling, I'll check with your father

but I'm sure he'll be proud to permit your assistance. Anyway, my point is that once your

body's adult sexual instincts are fully awakenned, and typically these tests do have that

effect, you will find yourself becoming quite intensely aroused at times. The accompanying

desire for sexual activity will typically be at least equal to your need earlier today;

in which state the mind can generate intensely sexual and fantastic imaginings in its

subconscious attempts to overcome your civilised willpower, and have you masturbate

yourself to orgasm. Your dreams particularly will tend to develop a theme of sexual

imagery, since in sleep your conscious will is virtually absent.

Frequency and duration of such arousal episodes, awake or asleep, depend on the individual,

time of month, and factors such as inadvertent physical stimulation, friction with clothing,

exercise, and so on. Quite often it can occur entirely spontaneously. Its not unusual for

arousal to be quite persistent and distracting on a daily basis, so don't be alarmed if you

find yourself experiencing this. This is just something young adults have to cope with on

their own, difficult though it is.

It is considered incorrect to discuss such feelings, or matters such as these routine

gynaecological tests, in polite company. Just not done. That is what we doctors are here for,

after all!

In any case, I understand your father Lord Croft has very high academic expectations of you.

So you'll have plenty to keep you busy, and distract you from the desires of the flesh.

Certainly I'm sure you'll be too busy with your studies to have time for boyfriends!

And especially, most definitely, no boyfriends until your father permits it! That's very

important Laura. No boyfriends, until your father gives you permission. You'll remember

that, and you won't feel even interested in any boys until he gives you permission.

No.... Ah, another one already? Very good! Impressive!"

It impressed her too, though she could have done without it. She'd had the bell, and the

wave, and the fireball... this one seemed more like a freight train. She sensed it

approaching, she was tied on the rails, it hit with enormous force, and just kept on

rolling over her till she dropped away into blackness, still yelling at the top of

her voice.

When she came round, she discovered that consciousness didn't appear to be a prerequisite

for arousal, since her body was already well on the way to another orgasm. This time

Prott said nothing, and soon she was screaming through her clenched teeth again.

He was right, it was more intense. This time she didn't quite pass out, but then neither

did her orgasm seem to quite end. It just tapered off, then began building up again,

her whole body still tingling from the last peak.

That was the last she clearly remembered of the 'multi-orgasmic' test. The rest was always

a blur of jumbled memories of nearly continuous climax.

The next thing she can remember clearly is an awareness that the vibrating penis >

cold, since I just now took it out of the refrigerator. Open wide! Heh. No not your

mouth, I was joking."

As he speaks, she feels something very cold press against her sex, and begin sliding

in. Its *very* cold, icy! It goes in deeply, and then she feels it twist around, rotating,

then expand forcefully, stretching her. He is seated on a roller chair between her

widespread thighs, and bending over, close to her no-longer-so-secret place. Into which

he seems to be shining a strong flashlight, who's light she can see reflected on the ceiling

above her still strapped down head. Every time he moves, she can hear the chair rollers

on the hardwood floor. There is a soft touching sensation deep inside her, somewhere past

the still cool pressure of the metal instrument holding her open.

"There, that's the swab done. We send that off to check all your little cells in here

are happily doing what they are supposed to. Which I'm sure they are, by the healthy

colour. Now, next we have another sexual response test, only this time I'll have you

do some muscle exercises as part of the test. Just a minute..."

She hears some clinking sounds, and a rustle of paper. Then something touches her

inside again. It presses firmly against her depths, then there is a sharp sensation

of sliding, and whatever it is seems to have slipped into somewhere even deeper.

"Good. Now Laura, that is a tiny sensor probe I have slipped up into your uterus.

In the lead up to orgasm, and during, the uterus exhibits various reactions which

this probe detects. The probe is connected to a little control box down here, which

will be monitoring the test. It also can tell how hard your vaginal muscles squeeze

down on this spreader inside you... now, I'd like you to try really hard to grip

tightly on that... as hard as you can... come on Laura! I'm sure you can do better...

There, good! You see, can you feel it give slightly when you do that? Its spring

loaded, and measures how hard you squeeze it. Now a couple more things, and we're set."

With her head strapped back, she can't look at any of these goings on. But now the

doctor draws something large from somewhere under the chair, and holds it up above

her body, where she can see it in the bottom of her field of view. It looks like

a large square board, with a concave padded recess in one edge. As he quickly fits

it over her waist, and she hears it click into place, that recess turns out to press

closely around her waist. The board makes a kind of partition, separating her into

an upper and lower half, with a barrier in between that she can tell her arms could

not reach around. Then he undoes the strap over her head, and her chest and upper

arms, so her torso is now entirely free. Smiling down at her, he pats her reassuringly

on the shoulder.

"There, you'll find that more comfortable. Feel free to move around as much as you

wish during this. The partition is just so you can't accidentally dislodge the

sensors. Now, the best for last..."

He walks around to between her legs again, and there are more cloth or paper rustling

sounds. She feels his hands slip something under her rear, and slide around to her front.

After some more slidings over her hips and thighs, there is a feeling of an elastic

tightness, like a band, around her waist and down the junctures of her thighs and stomach.

Then another tugging, and suddenly something soft presses down on that spot he'd called

her clitoris. She can feel that hard little projection worm slickly into whatever he

is working down onto it. Then he lets go, and the feeling of her very sensitive spot

being enveloped in something pressing against it remains, as if it is attached to

whatever he has wrapped around her body. Impulsively she moves her hips, but the

harness or whatever it is moves with her, and so does the thing on her clitoris.

She shakes herself harder, but it still hangs on, hardly producing any difference

in the sensation of being clasped there.

"Yes, that little thing is fixed on pretty well, and you can move as much as you like

without disrupting the procedure. I'll explain how this goes. There are two exercises

I want you to practice during this test. The first, is for you to practice carrying

out a breast examination for yourself. You should do this regularly, as a precaution.

You mustn't feel shy or inhibited about this, its most important to check for unusual

lumps quite frequently. Better to catch them as soon as possible! As you've noticed

earlier, manipulation of the breasts can be quite arousing, but that is something one

has to bear for a good cause. In any case, it's very rare for breast contact alone to

induce an orgasm, so one can't consider this to be a form of masturbation. Now, I

want you to take both hands, and work around one breast as I did earlier. Don't be

shy... that's a good girl. You recall how I covered the entire breast systematically,

with particular attention to the area around the nipple, and the nipple itself.

So, I want you to continue practicing that. This will be a fairly lengthy test, which

will be quite distracting. If you can keep up the breast exam practice most of the time,

you'll find it will become second nature to you - an easy thing to do in your private

moments."

At first she'd been hesitant to squeeze her breasts as he'd done. It was something

she'd never ever done before, in the couple of years since her breasts had grown

from nothing. She'd been quite self-conscious about them, and although her father

had arranged for the house staff to purchase suitable bras for her, that at least

held them firmly for her sports exercises, she'd mostly tried to ignore them.

With her fingers pressing deeply into her right breast, and rotating around, she'd

been surprised to find the sensations quite... interesting. Perhaps it was the very

odd feelings still coming from between her legs that overcame her inhibition in front

of the doctor, but she'd quickly switched to circling her breast with both hands, and

squeezing it outwards, working down to the nipple as he'd done. It was quite nice...

"Very good Laura! Now, as you continue, I'll explain the major component of this test.

There are actually several forms of orgasm. So far we've ascertained that you can

experienced vaginal orgasm, and next is the clitoral orgasm. In addition, we'll be

establishing involvement of the vaginal musculature, via a little exercise for you.

Now, when I turn this box down here on, you'll feel some fairly intense sensations

in your clitoris. As with the penis simulation, if everything is working right you'll

find yourself becoming aroused, and approaching orgasm. Only this time, to achieve

orgasm, you'll need to squeeze down on the vaginal spreader as you did before.

When the box registers that you are not squeezing as much you could, it will taper

off the clitoral stimulation near the point of orgasm. As I've shown you, that can

be quite frustrating. The little box has some clever circuitry, and will vary things

throughout the test to keep it from getting boring. Oh, and as it seems you are quite

athletic, I've set the squeeze threshold fairly high."

Without further fanfare, she'd heard a click, and then the most amazing sensation

flooded her mind. The thing on her clitoris simultaneously *buzzed* on that spot,

and seemed to *suck* down onto it, drawing her bud tightly into that enveloping

softness. She'd gasped, and tried to sit up, her hands flying downwards to try and

clutch at herself, and pull the thing away. Too intense! But her hands met that

barrier, and with her waist held firm she could only half-sit. She desperately worked

her hands against the board, trying to somehow bypass it, but it was impossible. She

let herself fall back, panting, fingers splayed, pressing on the board. The vibrations

on her clit intensified, unrelenting, as the feeling of suction reversed, then sucked

back onto her.

"Oh, I forgot to mention. There are pressure sensors on the board too, and pressing

on it makes the stimulator actions stronger, so long as the uterine sensor determines

you are not approaching orgasm. Best if you just concentrate on your breast exam

practice, eh? Now, there's something I must attend to. I'll leave you to it. The box

will keep you occupied."

And so he did, and so it had. As he walked away she'd barely noticed, so intense were

the feelings pouring into her from that little point between her legs. At that time

she'd been unable to believe anything could feel so utterly overpoweringly pleasurable.

Now, floating down the river with her ultra sensitive and ridiculously overgrown clit

throbbing stiffly out from her swollen sex, she knows that feeling well, and her

finger's delicate touch replays the feeling amplified. Her daydream breaks up into

a jumble of thoughts - her annual appointments with Dr Prott, and the many different

test procedures he's performed for her over the years. But each year, he always has

her do that one again, with the clitoral stimulator and vaginal sensors. Now she wonders

how he'll be able to fit the stimulator over her new clit, expanded to several times

it's former size by the effects of the vine venom.

She recalls vividly how that first time she'd struggled to cope with the intensity.

How she'd taken long minutes to learn that stopping pressing on the board really did

result in the stimulation level on her clit dropping back to something more bearable.

How she'd found that nothing she could do with her hips made any difference - she could

beat them back and forth in a frenzy, or simply collapse motionless, and that pulsing

sucking hum on her clit kept right on dishing it out to her. It was when her body had

quickly risen to panting, pulse-pounding pre-orgasm, and the stimulator had suddenly

faded to agonising inactivity, that she'd found herself remembering to practice her

breast exam. Her hands seemed to find her breasts almost of their own accord, and she

wondered if perhaps breast exams could be done too forcefully. As her hands gripped

and twisted at a breast each, she finally also recalled that she was supposed to be

squeezing her vagina. It turned out that she did have to exert quite a lot of effort

before the box would be satisfied, and allow her to achieve orgasm.

In her memories the events from this test were always quite confused. The box was able

to stimulate her to a level of excitement so close to orgasm, that she literally

could not think to do anything other than struggle to clamp down hard enough and

often enough, to convince the fiendish device to not fade away her pleasure over and

over again as she edged into the final instants before release. Whatever the doctor

had placed inside her, it worked perfectly to detect her exact level of excitement,

and infallibly judge the precise worst moment to pull back. Then, once she had grown

desperate enough to exert the extreme grip the thing wanted from her while it held

her hovering at the edge for agonising long minutes, it would decide to let her come

and suddenly, unexpectedly buzz into high power, flinging her mind off into the

stratosphere of pleasure and holding her there in mindlocked orbital ecstasy.

Eventually, as she came down there would be a few minutes of relative rest, while the

thing on her sex dropped back to a very light massaging action. Then she'd begin to

wind up again, and it would start all over.

It was from those few moments of resting clarity, that first visit, that she recalls

the surprising events with Hiromi and the doctor. They are a series of images and

short sequences that lie in no particular order in her mind. Each one occurred in

a few moments between her intervals of being far too occupied to notice anything

beyond the feelings in her own body.

There is the time she lay her head to one side, panting in exhaustion after a huge

orgasm, and saw Hiromi lying naked on the examination bench Laura had first lain on,

her legs up over the doctor's shoulders, as he, trouserless, pounded his hips against

her raised bottom. As he drew back, Laura could see a fat fleshy rod in the space

between them, that disappeared into Hiromi's sex as he thrust forward. Both of them

were panting and huffing, and Hiromi's hands were clutching at the doctor's hips,

pulling him into her with each thrust. Laura had watched briefly, before the buzz

on her own sex had picked up and driven her back into eyes-shut panting heat.

Some other moment, Laura had opened her eyes, looking up, and found a naked Hiromi

standing next to her, with the doctor also naked and hugging the Asian girl from

behind, as he kissed and nibbled at the side of her neck. Laura could hear him

whisper in Hiromi's ear. "She is so beautiful when she comes, don't you think?

And so noisy. I look forward to the sound when I let you come."

Another image, again with Hiromi up on the exam bench, but this time sideways on

her knees with her head down on the bench, so her arse faces to the side. The doctor

this time is fully dressed, and standing with his face pressed against Hiromi's

arse. He seems to be kissing her rear, as he also fondles her cheeks. He kisses

one side, then the other, then holds her cheeks apart and presses his face into the

crevice of her arse. He hums "Hmmmmmmmmm..." and says, muffled. "Ahhh Hiromi. You

have the most stunning bum. Such curves, such a delicate rosebud. The whole world

should see this perfect arse!" Laura, the heat in her sex rapidly exploding again,

remembers turning away from this mysterious scene, confused.

Then there is the time she had lain, eyes closed, panting from her exertions, and

she'd heard that sound of the roller chair again nearby. She'd opened her eyes,

and seen the doctor, naked, sitting back in the chair, with Hiromi sitting on

his lap, facing him with her legs either side of his waist. She is wearing her

top, but naked below the waist. Her face is screwed up in a grimace of pleasure

or pain, and her hips rock as she holds herself tightly against the doctor and

moans softly. His hands are under her top, running up and down her back, as he

leans his head forward and gently bites on her ear, whispering. "Absolutely

dying to come, aren't you? Well not yet, my sweet little motherfucker. Later.

Hmmm... I do hope you find someone who can make you happy, some day."

She remembers other moments of quiet between her episodes of frenzy, when she'd

looked around the room to find herself alone, no sign of the doctor. Sometimes

she could hear some movements from beyond the dividing curtain, other times there

was only silence. Silence and the feel of the thing between her legs softly doing

the job it did so well, and building her temperature up again. She really has no

idea how many times that thing had cycled her through the peaks of ecstasy. Many,

too many to count, even if she had been thinking of keeping count. She hadn't

even been aware of when he'd turned the thing off finally. She'd just found

herself coming up out of another orgasmic daze, to realise the thing had been

removed from her, and the doctor was lifting off the board that had prevented

her from reaching or seeing down between her legs.

"Well, Laura, I must say you did very well on that one! Outstanding! Your father

wi.. would be most proud of you! Now we're nearly all done, just one more little

lesson in a while, before your father arrives. But first, I'm sure you are quite

tired after that, so you can take a short sleep to recover. You're feeling tired,

aren't you! So tired, you're drifting off, deeper, your eyes are so heavy, closing,

drifting and you can hear my voice as you drift deeper, deeper asleep....

She certainly had been tired! She'd been very glad to be given the chance to

rest for a while, and had dropped right off, just as he'd suggested. The nap had

done her a world of good too, for the next thing she knew he was shaking her shoulder

gently, and she woke up feeling very wonderfully clear and rested, with a kind of

tingling glow all through her body. She was still lying back in that chair thing,

but with her legs and feet now resting together and free on a padded extension of

the main body, something like a dentist chair. A soft cotton blanket lay draped

over her up to her chin. It must have been quite a long sleep, since the sun had

shifted entirely off the window drapes, leaving the room much dimmer. It felt like

late afternoon. Doctor Prot leans down over her, smiling warmly as he looks into

her eyes for a long moment, seeming to study her carefully before he speaks.

"Ah, you are awake. Feeling rested now?" She nods. "Good! That one can be exhausting.

Now, a few quick words on hygiene. I understand you have been having your periods

regularly for a while now, Correct?" She'd nodded again, shyly. "Your father mentioned

that the staff has been providing you with sanitary pads so far. What we'll do now

is show you how to use something more convenient, called tampons. I gather that you

have pretty much avoiding touching your sexual organs. That's good, however there are

things for which you must learn to put that taboo aside. One is tampons, which are

a kind of absorbent pad placed inside the vagina. The other is cleanliness, and washing."

He holds up a small, white, cellophane wrapped cylinder.

"This is a tampon. Here, take it." She holds it, cautiously.

"Now, open the wrapping... see the little tab there... right. Now, the string has

to hang outside your body, since otherwise extracting the pad would be awkward.

Especially once it has swelled up a bit. All right, now.... oh, here,

I'll remove the blanket. There.

Now, knees apart, that's right. You'll need to reach down with your other hand and

spread your labia - that's the lips there - apart. Correct. Now, hold the tampon

by the string end, and push it into your vagina.... A bit lower down, there, OK.

Push it right inside, one finger will do, but keep hold of the string. A bit further,

yes, that's correct. Now, let go. Feels comfortable? The length of time it will work

for depends on the volume of your flow, but its best not to leave one tampon in

place for longer than half a day. Now, pull it out by the string. No, its not

stuck, just pull a bit harder, when fresh it tends to absorb your lubrication

and resist a bit. There, easy. Oh, and don't dispose of them down the toilet,

they play havoc with the sewage treatment system. Bin them. There, beside the

couch. Well, those are tampons. I'll mention to your father that the staff should

provide those from now on. I'm glad to see too, that you've overcome your shyness.

There's absolutely nothing to be ashamed of in the insertion of basic sanitary

items. Unlike, say, objects like this, which are designed purely for sexual

gratification. You recall I showed you this before?"

From somewhere he has produced that same replica penis she had last seen held

in front of her face before it was used to bring her to a series of orgasms.

The sight of it again now sends a surge of heat through her body, especially

her vagina, and she gasps softly in surprise, squirming slightly.

He holds it steadily in front of her, considering her as she looks at it.

This time she has more time to examine the detail of the model. It fascinates

her, and as she stares she can feel her pulse speeding up, and her sex feels

like it is literally swelling and growing wetter. She realises her thighs

are still resting widely apart, and she brings them together, ashamed of the

way she is reacting to the sight.

"No, spread your thighs again Laura. Here, take this in your hands and feel

it."

She doesn't want to do either, but finds herself doing both anyway, as if

her body has a will of it's own. The thing feels strange in her hands - a

kind of rubbery softness on the surface, with an inner rigidity. It feels

even larger than it looks. She remembers vividly how it felt, being pushed

into her, and her hips give a small thrust upwards at the memory.

"This is called a dildo, and women who masturbate will often use things

like this, or really any object of a suitable size, on themselves. Of course

as I said, masturbation is a most unfortunate habit. However, I did notice

that when placing the tampon just now, you seemed overly cautious about

inserting it deeply enough. So I think it would be useful for you to just

this once, explore for yourself the actual capacity of your vagina. Best

way for you to dispel such concerns about tampon insertion. You'll find

that your sexual instincts are responding to the sight and touch of a penis

replica... as I can see. Strong aren't they? But don't be concerned about

that. Can't be helped. Just don't get carried away. Sure, you can feel it

all over. This one is actually not an average dildo, but a quite accurate

anatomical model. Though, they never could get the foreskin exactly right.

In real ones the loose skin behind the head there rolls forward over the

head when the penis is not erect. Not so much when erect, so the model isn't

far off. It's resilience is rather well done I must admit. Ha! Yes, that's

the control for the vibration, and no, real ones don't vibrate. I think for

your instruction in a moment you'd better leave the vibration off."

He'd let her play with the thing for a while longer, feeling the way the

skin on the shaft felt like it slid over an internal hardness just below

the surface, while the head was more like a firm spongy cushion with a kind

of even resistance to pressure as she squeezed it in her fingers. All the

while her thoughts had been whirling around the idea that he was going to

have her push the thing into herself. Her body was greeting that idea very

eagerly, yet she had no idea how she'd be able to bring herself to do such

a thing. A thing which seemed so wrong, so shameful! Doing it with the

doctor present... impossible!

"OK, I guess you've got the feel of that. Now remember, this is just an

exercise. Laura, hold it by the base and press the head against your sex,

just at the entrance to your vagina. Don't push it in yet."

She surprised herself - without hesitating she'd done exactly that. She'd

found herself lying there, that rounded bulb nestling slightly into her

lips, as her hips undulated up and down and her hand held the dildo steady

at her entrance. She mouths a breathy kind of growl, as her left hand,

lacking anything else to do, expresses the power of her reaction by

clutching at her upper thigh. He was right, the feelings _are_ very

strong. She finds that instead of having to make an effort to do as

the doctor orders despite her shame, she is actually wishing her hand

would push that thing inwards. Yet it doesn't. He didn't say anything

about her hips though, and she rocks them urgently, sighing at the feel

of that roundness pressing at her entrance.

He stands considering her for long moments, thoughtful. "Hmmmm... I

wish all my patients were so enthusiastic. All right. In a moment you

can push it gently in, as far as it feels comfortable. Observe it as it

goes in, and watch how deeply it goes. Here... I'll adjust the chair so

you can see better...    The vagina is remarkably elastic - you'll find

you can twist the dildo around quite a lot with no discomfort at all.

Also try pulling the dildo entirely out, then reinserting it firmly.

You should repeat these exercises as necessary, trying different angles

if you like, till you feel yourself become confident at this.

That will definitely allay your concerns about inserting tampons.

Meanwhile, time for me to go and phone your father. I'll be back in

a few minutes. Oh... I almost forgot to say... You'll find your body

will react to this exercise in a sexual way. Can't be helped, its pretty

much an automatic response. Just stay calm, don't be discouraged by that,

and remember Lara, if you find yourself becoming overly excited and about

to orgasm, simply pause until orgasm doesn't seem imminent. I wouldn't want

to feel responsible for having caused you to develop a taste for masturbation!

Begin now!"

He walks away quickly, and disappears behind the screening curtain.

When he adjusted the chair, he'd raised the back and headrest up so that

she is lying with her torso curved, and head tilted forward so her chin is

nearly resting on her chest. With her thighs spread, she'd found herself

for the first time ever, looking directly and closely at her spread-open

private place. The view astonished her. She'd had a fairly vague idea that

her sex consisted of a plumply curving slit, surrounded and partly covered

by her dark curls. The only other thing she'd seen before, was that little

pink-red stub which he'd called her clitoris, which poked out from near the

top of that slit when she was aroused. But now... she beheld something far

different. Firstly, all her hair was slicked down tightly against her skin,

glistening wetly, and doing nothing to hide anything. Most shockingly, the

folds of skin she'd thought of as her slit were thickened, and stretched

apart by the bulging head of the dildo in her hand. Open, they revealed

another set of finer lips inside, also spread apart by the dildo, and of a

much darker red colour. Where those came together towards her front, her

clitoris was standing stiffly out, pulling the juncture of those inner lips

upwards.

The view both mesmerised and shocked her. So much more complicated than she'd

expected, and so... so... she groped for a word... so _primitive_. Yes,

that seemed closest to the feeling the sight gave her. Primitive, in the

ancient, powerful sense. The sight of that bulbous head on the dildo, pressing

into her there... she could feel an intense, instinctive urge looming in her

mind, to push, to thrust, to make that shaft penetrate herself. But it looked

so huge, surely?... Still, it had been inside before, and felt... well, it had

felt very good.

All these thoughts had flickered through her head in the moments between his

raising the chair back, and him starting to walk away. She'd been so wide-eyed

that she'd stopped paying attention to his words, and it only registered that

he'd left as his footsteps retreat behind the drape. She is just trying to call

back his words, and consider them, when her hand acts. It pushes the dildo into

her vagina with a strong thrust, and the feeling of that thing sliding deeply

into her arrives at her mind simultaneously with her understanding of what he'd

told her to do.

Lying on her back in the river, Laura quivers at the memory of that first thrust

by her own hand. This sequence from her initial visit to Dr Prot has always been a

perfectly clear, vivid memory, and she could not count all the times she lay

sleepless in her room at Abbingdon in the years after, recalling that sensation,

and battling against the feelings that always arose in her body as if summoned by

the memory. She was so ashamed of herself, that so many times she'd eventually lost

that battle. She still is today, even if recent events beyond her control have put

her in a situation where her body's needs are seriously interfering with her escape.

'Oh goddddd!' She moans to herself, floating, as her hips shudder and her fingers

tease her unbelievably rigid and sensitive enlarged clit. She wishes she had a dildo

here now. The memory of that filling thrust always makes her feel so enormously empty

inside, and now, with everything else, its as close to unbearable as she's ever felt.

But... a little bit longer... this time she is recalling so much more of that visit,

and her curiosity is strong - was there anything else she didn't recall before?

Besides... those minutes alone there on the chair left such a powerful memory, and for

some reason this time everything she recalls is so unusually intense. She is already

so unbelievably horny, and thinking of that time has always made her nearly lose her

self-control. Nearly! She sighs, admitting to herself that actually, to her shame, it

has more often than not had exactly that effect. Even going so far as to act out the

whole scene with the dildo, letting herself imagine that sitting up naked in her bed,

propped on pillows and using some improvised penis substitute in herself, she was back

in the doctor's rooms, obeying his instructions again.

What a shameless young girl she was! Perhaps it was something to do with losing her

mother, and not having anyone close to talk to about such things. She'd always felt

so guilty afterwards, hating herself for her weak will for days.

Today, in the river, she remembers how as she'd grown into her twenties she'd become

more able to control herself, and such regrettable lapses had become rarer. But never

entirely absent, even though as a mature adult, she _should_ have been capable of that.

She thinks that here, now, would be a good moment to demonstrate to herself that she

_can_ control herself, and master this troublesome memory once and for all. Yes! She

decides that is an excellent idea! She'll play right through the dildo memory, without

letting herself come. Just to prove that she can. And... and to punish herself for all

those times she was weak. Yes! Then she'll explore the remainder of the Dr Prot visit

memory, and only when she is sure she has squeezed every last drop of new recollection

from it... _then_ she'll let herself come. So she can get on with paying full attention

to her journey.

Preparing to let herself sink back into the dreaming, she opens her eyes and looks

about. Everything seems much the same. She is still in the central current, in a

wide, slow reach of the river. Some way ahead the river appears to bend, but shows

no indication of any change in overall grade. Just a bend. Nothing that needs her

attention. She drifts on, recalling. Still teasing her sex deliberately, carefully,

savouring the quite agonisingly needy heat of her body. She'll show it who's boss...

Her mind had been filled, stunningly, by the feeling of that fat shaft thrust into

herself by her own hand. She'd gone sort of blank, just a slate on which the sensations

of her body and the image of her sex being penetrated by the dildo were writing over

anything she might have tried to think or will. She wasn't even consciously making

her hand do the things it did. Something was though. Her hand would push and twist

the shaft in her, making her grunt with the depth. It would hold it deeply in her,

and stir it around in a mixing motion, or rotate it, and thrust in and out with

long, deep strokes, each time pulling the head fully out of her sex then plunging

it back in. 'Firmly', just as the doctor had ordered. The closest she'd come to any

kind of coherent thought was a kind of interested attention to how very much of the

dildo could fit inside her, and what a good idea this was since those tampons seemed

a much better thing than messy pads. She was glad that the doctor was showing her how

very accommodating her insides were.

This memory had always gone on much like this, just her watching and feeling the effects

of her hand using the dildo to explore the (very exciting) limits of her insides.

But this time, she is aware of something else, something that had been so peripheral

at the time, that it hadn't registered at all. Way over on the edge of her memory

she can hear... the sound of the doctor walking in the other room. The scrape of his

chair pulled back. A series of muted telephone dialling tones, followed by the ring

tone, clearly on speaker. All the while with that rod stirring around in her, it's

sensations about a million times stronger than the faint sounds. But she concentrates

on them this time, gripping this new fragment of memory tightly.

A voice answers.

"Hello, Richard here."

"Ah, lord Croft, its James. We are about done here. Another half an hour would be

good timing, if that is convenient for you?"

"Errr... why, yes, that should be fine. All well?"

"Oh splendid! Very, very fine young lady you have there. I'm sure she'll do you

proud. Takes after her mother - very receptive."

"Good, good. I do miss her."

"A tragic loss indeed. Still, on the bright side, now you can indulge yourse..."

"cough!"

"Don't worry, phones and all that, I know. Well, anyway, the package awaits

your attention. Have you decided when you'll look into the matter?"

"Ah... I was thinking about two years. I'd rather enjoy the uh, package in

it's existing condition for a while. I'm sure time will fly, and I will enjoy...

um the present arrangements. Your work is always first rate."

"Thank you. Oh and do be here on time if you can."

"Oh?"

"You'll see. Surprise. Ah, just get Hiromi to buzz me, and I'll bring Laura

out."

"I'm intrigued. Very well. Half an hour. Good day to you."

"Good day."

There is a click, then silence.

At first Laura had been intrigued to discover this new footnote to her memory.

Its very hard to give it much attention, while wrestling with all the other raging

feelings of the memory and her present state. For one thing, there's a streak of

perverse excitement in discovering that while she was lying there naked on the

doctor's chair, filling her vagina with a large replica penis, she'd also been

unknowingly listening to her father's voice. Something about that makes her excitement

flare even hotter, and she has to cut back on her touches lest the need overcome her.

All the same, it doesn't seem to mean much. Arranging his return time, something

about some business of his the doctor knew of, and nothing else. Was there?

Oh wait... two years... Gee. He'd probably never got around to whatever it was,

since he'd died less than two years after that day. Poor dad. She hopes he did

get lots of enjoyment from whatever it was he'd been talking about. Still, now is

not the time to feel sad about her father. She thinks 'not that it seems to have

had any effect on this damned horny body of mine! Ohhhhh Fuuuuck! Uhhhh! Thats sooo

intense...'

She lets the memory play on. How fascinated she'd been at the way her reddened

flesh had pulled in and out with the dildo as she thrust it in and out. How she'd

been producing so much of that lubricating fluid, that her bum had begun to slide

around on the slippery wet leather of the padding under her rear, as she squirmed.

The doctor had certainly been correct - this exercise did make her get very, very

excited. She'd been too blank to think about it then, but when later recalling those

minutes she'd always been mortified to realise that she'd been moaning and huffing

so loudly that the doctor must have heard her. She wished she hadn't done that-

she must have sounded much the same as she had during the orgasm exercises he'd

set earlier. She hoped he didn't think she was masturbating. After all, even though

she wasn't really in control of herself, she had still been good and done as he'd

said. Her hand had slowed down the thrusting as she'd felt herself nearing another

of those orgasms she'd had so many of earlier. He hadn't said anything about

not twisting about desperately, clutching at her leg and stomach with her left

hand, and generally writhing with the sensation of being so near to orgasm.

That had seemed to go on for many minutes, with her hand somehow having more

will than she herself, to slow down and speed up, always keeping her safely just

short of that orgasm.

It had ended when she suddenly felt the doctor's hand on her shoulder, and he

spoke to her. "Very good Laura, that's enough now. It looks like you got the hang

of it OK. Here, I'll take that, thanks."

Her hand had obediently pulled the dildo out of herself and handed it to him.

He'd put it somewhere out of her sight, and then instructed her to rise.

"Come along now Laura, your father is on his way and I still have to show you

some personal hygiene pointers before you dress. Up you get..."

He'd taken her hand - the one that had been holding the dildo - and she'd stepped

down off the chair onto very shaky legs. She'd also stepped into a barrage of

sensations quite new to her, as he led her across the room. Once again she seemed

to be operating on automatic, as her mind struggled with thoughts and feelings that

entirely saturated her concentration. Layers of feelings, so many that she was

overwhelmed with them. Primarily, there was the impact of suddenly finding her

desire, her closeness to orgasm, her pounding heartbeat and gasping shortness of

breath still present, while utterly unaccompanied by that wonderful fullness and

movement of the dildo within herself. Somehow concentrating on that deep probing,

on the sight of the thing thrusting into her sex, had cast her feeling of need as

a totally pleasurable experience. Now as she walked, feeling so empty inside, every

aspect of her body's state seemed a torment of intense frustration and mortification.

Her clitoris was standing stiffly, achingly hard, between the lips of her sex that

felt extraordinarily swollen and slippery. No longer parted by the dildo, they

pressed in against her clitoris and slid against it with each step. This sensation

so stunned her in her first few steps that she looked down at herself to see what it

could be. The sight didn't help - her sex, hair damply plastered to her skin, her

lips looking every bit as swollen as they felt, and her clit poking between them.

She could even see her lips slide back and forth as she swung her legs.

The same feeling of slippery rubbing emanated from everywhere down there. It felt

like the crease between her bottom cheeks had been oiled, and her cheeks slid against

each other the same as her sex. When her thighs brushed together, those too felt wet

and slick. She grappled with the idea that all that wetness had come from inside her

vagina - it seemed so humiliating!

With her mind in a whirl she hadn't even realised that he had brought her to a stop.

She only became aware of her surroundings again when he placed a finger under her chin

and lifted her head, to face him. She felt herself flush crimson, seeing him looking

at her quizzically, and realising in a flash that she had been standing on the spot,

gazing intently down at her sex as her buttocks flexed and tilted her hips with the

intensity of the feelings down there. With him lifting her jaw, she also realises

that she'd had her mouth open in a round 'O', breathing heavily through it.

"Well Laura, it would appear that in addition to your fine figure and generously

developed feminine charms, you have the mixed blessing of a highly responsive sexual

physiology. One prone to unusual persistence of those responses too, I observe.

Quite remarkable! Still, don't let it alarm you, it is rare, but certainly not

abnormal. I'm glad you came in today; it can be most distressing for a young lady

to enter this time of their development, unaware of the nature of the new feelings

they find themselves experiencing. Not knowing that such desires are normal, and

simply to be borne with patience, can lead girls to the most distressing and

shameful habits, in their ignorance and uninformed attempts to relieve the needs.

Of course, I understand those needs can be extremely trying and awkward at times.

For instance, you'll certainly find that your body's reaction to today's procedures

will persist unabated for several hours, at least. But don't let it worry you.

It can be difficult to socialise in this condition, I'm afraid. But not impossible.

Just pretend your rosy cheeks and perked nipples are from the cold, and try not to

dwell overly on whether those around you are guessing how you are really feeling.

Use a tampon or pad when your secretions might be a problem.

And that brings me to our last topic today - genital hygiene."

Although as usual his voice transfixes her attention, and holds her eyes firmly

on his, she has become more aware of her immediate surroundings. She hadn't noticed

before, but there must have been some kind of alcove or back room, equipped as a

large bathroom in which she now found herself. The wall behind Doctor Prott was

all tiled in white, and so was the floor. There was a counter top, sink with wide mirror

and toilet to one side, and off to the other side an area like a wide, open-plan shower.

Within a low tiled step, the floor sloped down to a central drain. Overhead, a shower

rose. On the wall, taps and a flexible water spray head. But incongruously, in the

middle of the shower area sat another medical looking reclining chair - this one all

shiny stainless steel tubular frame and minimalist cream coloured padded rests.

"As I was saying, you don't best not be always worrying yourself over what people are

thinking about you. Now, you'll no doubt have noticed that along with the secretions

of sexual arousal, there is a distinctive scent.... no, there's no reason to blush

about that here. Ha ha! Someone is making a lot of money from all the air freshener

we gynaecologists buy! Ahem..."  He pauses, then startles her by reaching between her

legs and wiping his fingers casually along her sex, from rear to front. She feels them

sliding wetly in her fluids. He brings them up under her nose, while holding her eyes

with his. She feels compelled to obey his cue, and sniffs. Her blush redoubles, as the

warm, musky odour she's been aware of all afternoon gels in her mind as _her_ scent.

"It's quite distinctive, isn't it? Very telling. So, now I'll have you hop up on the

seat here, and we'll quickly run through how to wash yourself thoroughly there.

Up you get. And lay back, let your legs relax apart, that's right."

Once more she found herself seated, her back and head propped up to make a panorama for

her of her widespread sex. He reaches for that flexible shower spray on the wall,

and begins adjusting the taps as he points the spray away from himself towards the

floor.

"Of course, I'm sure you have always been careful to wash yourself everywhere. What

I want you to practice now, is a more complete wash, getting into all those nooks

without being squeamish about it. Here, take this. Whoops! Careful, I'd rather stay

dry, thanks!"

She was still grappling with the intensity of her body's arousal, and had taken the spray

rather clumsily. She quickly points the strong spray away as he steps out of the shower

area and walks over to the sink. As he continues speaking to her he begins to wash his

hands, half turned to face her, still holding her gaze.

"Your father will be here in just a few minutes, but this is a quick thing anyway. I want

you to use your other hand to spread your labia apart, and in a moment direct the spray

closely into your sex. Run it up and down, while you make sure every part gets a good wash.

Oh, and if we had more time it might be better to wait till you have cooled down a little

before we do this, since you'll find the sensations quite powerful. Normally, the unavoidable

stimulatory effects of a few minutes careful attention with a spray will be easily borne.

Considering your present state though... well... you've already had your prescribed orgasms

for this visit. So Laura, you understand, no more! Its unfortunate that you'll find it

difficult, but remember what your father said - you must be a good girl and do as I say.

Don't have another orgasm. I'm sure you'll be able to avoid that, no matter how strong the

feelings become. Now, begin. I'll instruct you from back here."

Waiting, listening to the doctor, with her fingers holding herself wide open down there and

the spray hissing loudly onto the floor beside her, she'd had a feeling this was going to

be something memorable. She was so... so... excited. She didn't seem to have calmed down

at all since the moment when the dildo had gone from inside her, and the thought that

another orgasm was close filled her with expectancy. She'd loved the feel as her fingers

spread her swollen lips just as he'd said, and the anticipation of feeling that hard

spray right there sent shivers along her tensing body. When he'd instructed her that she

wasn't to orgasm again, she didn't know what to make of it. Confusion, and an odd feeling

of abstraction, and then... before she could think more, her hand brought the spray to

her sex.

Electric! Her whole body jerked taught, lifting her back from the seat, and forcing a

sharp breathy grunt through her throat. All possibility of thought ceased. She fell back,

limp, groaning "Ahhhhhhhiiiiiieeeeee! Ohhhhhhhhhhh... Ooooooooohhhhhhh.... uhhhh...."

Yet her hands seemed to have no trouble holding steady, still parting herself and targeting

that needling spray at her most sensitive parts. "Oooooooohhhh Gggggooodddd! Ohhhhhuuuhhhh.."

She could feel herself hurtling toward a massive orgasm, the tension building rapidly,

and somewhere a trace of panic joined the storm, as that part of her garbled mind struggled

to fight it, to be good...  She tried to struggle up, to sit up, to bring her legs together,

and make it stop. His voice...

"No, just lie back, keep your legs spread. It's a simple hygiene exercise, Laura. Nothing

to get upset about, just a normal practice wash... Don't fight the feelings, let them

wash through you... don't worry, you won't come, I'm sure. I'm sure you won't come Laura,

no matter how intense... that's right, good girl, play the spray up and down, up and down...

as you feel your orgasm always just beyond where you are, because you mustn't come this

time, not here today again, and the tension and need is building, building, way past

the point where your orgasm hit before, but now it doesn't and you just get more and

more wound up as the spray works right into you... As it jets against your so sensitive

and throbbing clitoris, and you are not going to have an orgasm now, not going to,

not going to... No, don't hold your breath; breathe, that's it, breathe deeply, keep

washing yourself... you feel like you are going to faint, but you don't, you breathe

deeply, let the feelings in your sex flow through you.... glowing, intense, so much

pressure but there is no orgasm to release it... you feel like an aeroplane, going

through the sound barrier, faster and faster, past the speed of orgasm, faster, twice

the speed of orgasm, faster... once you are high up here you can fly forever, holding

that feeling, holding back that orgasm, flying... good, just keep on like... Oh, hello,

there's the buzzer. Keep on with that Laura, I'll be a moment."

She wasn't thinking about anything at all by then. Now, floating down the river, she shudders

with intense arousal as she always does when remembering this part. This time she is finding

it much clearer than in the past, yet she can barely grasp at his words, she was so deeply

into an extreme sexual trance that day. She has always been astonished that somehow at his

suggestion she was able to avoid an orgasm. That state she entered is somewhere she has never

been able to reach again, or ever wanted to. It hurts her mind to even think about how it felt.

She recalls that he went away, leaving her there at the mercy of her own determined hands and

that spray. She was crying and gasping loudly, and couldn't hear anything beyond her own heated

sounds. At some time after he left, he returned.

"Well, time to go. How are you doing there? Good, good... One other thing quickly, before

we end this washing practice... here... let me guide your hand..."

Through the veils of her clouded, overloaded mind, she feels his hand grip hers around the

sprayer handle. He seems to do something to the sprayer, and then... The needling changes to

a solid, pulsating jet, that pummels her sex. His hand guides hers lower, and suddenly that

jet thrusts up inside her, beating at her inner heat. The water is just above body temperature,

and she can feel its warmth sluicing around, pulsing, in there. Sensations far beyond her

ability to deal with, in her present state. They just pile on, adding to the impossible

weight of sensory overload. If she was a camel, her orgasm would have broken long ago.

She has gone limp, collapsed.

"There... it's best to wash inside regularly as well. I'll mention to your father that

your bathroom should have accessories such as this. Now... I'm afraid you'll have to

rush and dress now. Here's a towel, up you get. Yes, you may feel a little weak, I

expect, but nothing that will stop a strong, healthy young woman like yourself!

There you go! ... My, we are in a daze, aren't we! Dear me! Look, your father is

outside in the waiting room, and is apparently in something of a hurry. You finish

drying yourself, I'll get your dress."

He leaves her, slipping around the corner into the examination room. Then returns a few

moments later with her dress on a hanger, as she is still uncoordinatedly attempting to

dry her legs.

"Ready? Good, just slip this on, here, let me help..."

He guides her fumbling fingers in fitting it over her head. Vaguely she remembers her

underwear, and makes a hesitant, questioning gesture in the direction of the other room.

She is still panting, and too clouded to form the words.

"Oh, no time. I've put them with some other things to give your father today, don't

worry about them. The dress is fine, quite demure." He turns her around, and does up

the buttons between her shoulders for her.  "Come along." He takes her by the arm,

and steers her as she staggers along. What she is still feeling is so powerful she

can barely stand up. The sensation of that water pulsing inside her still echoes

around in her consciousness, searching for some exit. There is no exit, no relief,

from a body that feels like it wants to explode.

As Doctor Prot guides her, he chatters cheerfully on, his words barely registering in

the blizzard of heat that is her mind.

"You did very well today Laura! Very well. One hundred percent healthy young woman.

Its a pity we had to rush a bit at the end, but that's life. Never enough time, eh?

Hmmm... yes, looks like you've built up quite a charge there. Splendid effort too,

very well done to not get carried away. I'm afraid you'll find it will take some

hours to wind down though. And um... I should mention there's some possibility you may

experience a spontaneous orgasm in the process. Well, I must be honest, its actually

very likely. One or more, in fact. Once you are sitting down, and your body wants to

relax." As he walks her, he holds her wrist, clearly taking her pulse.

"Hmmm... remarkably persistent. Exceptional. Well well. You know Laura, there are a

small minority of women for whom sexual arousal simply cannot be relieved or abated

other than via orgasm. For single girls of high morals, this can make life most

awkward... most awkward... I wonder if you may be... no... perhaps... Time will tell."

Passing his desk in the outer room, he picks up a plastic shopping bag. As he lifts it

she can see that it contains a box of some sort, plus her underwear and shoes, clearly

visible through the translucent plastic. He continues to steer her on, to the door to

reception. Opening it, he guides her unsteady path through, before him.

"Richard! Sorry to keep you waiting. Still, here is your lovely daughter, all done.

Absolutely top notch shape, fine young woman. Hiromi, it won't be necessary to do

the usual paperwork, thank you."

Laura remembers that as they entered, Hiromi was looking very flushed and disconcerted,

while her father was sitting opposite, with a wide grin. An expression she rarely

saw on him. He jumped up, while Hiromi made herself busy with papers on her counter,

clearly making an effort to establish her routine. She'd begun to pass some to Doctor Prott,

who'd waved them away, and Hiromi, thrown off balance, was left with her original look

of discomfort. Strangely, in her recollections Laura does not recall being aware then

that Hiromi was probably naked from the waist down, and perhaps... my goodness, was that

why her father had been grinning like that?! Had the doctor really made Hiromi have

an orgasm in front of her father? It couldn't be possible surely! Her father had never

seemed to her like someone who'd _grin_ about such a thing. A respected academic - he'd

surely have been shocked, or at least embarrassed? If he even noticed. After all, later...

But although she shivers in anticipation of reliving that difficult memory, she stops

herself from getting the story out of sequence. Back then in reception she'd been nearly

completely oblivious of her surroundings, so hot did her body and mind burn. Yet now,

as with the whole sequence, her dream is casting up unexpected details she's never

recalled before. This conversation...

"Never mind James, I assure you the wait was entirely enjoyable. That was very kind of

you! Is it...?"

"All there. Here you are." He passes the shopping bag to Lord Croft.  "Some of Laura's

things too. Shoes... is the car outside? It's all carpets to the foyer. She's quite...

tired. Take the lift for once, seriously."

Her father had held the bag up, considering its contents through the thin plastic, then

gazed at Laura for a few moments, thoughtfully.

"Yes. I see what you mean. Well then, the lift it is. You know, I think that will be

a first for me."

"I believe it may be. You should take it easy Richard. A man your age should learn to

relax, and let things come... as they will."

Her father had looked as close to startled as she'd ever seen him. She didn't understand

why he'd found such a homily surprising, but then her father's conversations quite often

seemed to be at some tangent she didn't understand. He'd glanced again at her.

"Errr... really? But James, I never rush things. Perhaps its _you_ who is a little

too ambitious at times?"

"Nonsense Richard! Nothing changes, really. But fate often makes mockery of our slow old

plans. Something about grasping nettles occurs to me, but it's a very poor analogy. Besides,

I thought you were in a hurry, remember?"

"Ah, yes, of course. Well then, thank you again. Good day to you, Hiromi. Laura my dear,

do you need assistance?"

She'd taken a moment to react to the question, then shaken her head, no. Internally, she

was occupied with her own version of hell for clocks - the feeling of being wound up

near to exploding in a hail of small parts, but nothing ticking.

Somehow, she'd managed to walk with her father down the corridor, step into the lift,

stand there, and walk out of the building. The car was right out front, and she barely

noticed treading across the pavement in her bare feet. The driver had seen them coming,

and held the door for her. She had slid across, and was settling back in the plush seat

as her father got in after her, when she first perceived a difference in her state.

Not so much a change in her hyper-wound-up state itself, but an increase in her own

ability to perceive anything at all beyond the sensations of her body. Now she lay back

in the soft leather she should have been comfortable. Instead, she became more aware of

how very many ways she was _not_ comfortable. As if a dam of consciousness had broken,

she realised... she was naked under a very thin dress. She could actually see the dark

patch of her pubic hair through it! What had the others seen? Her breasts, swaying

unsupported beneath the cloth, and her rigid nipples pressing obvious peaks in the

embroidery. Beneath her, the feel of dampness already making the cloth cling to her

as she fidgets. The _incredible_, unbearable aching swollen throbbing between her legs,

that remains all tangled up in her mind with images and sensations of the dildo thrusting

inside, the water spraying on her overloaded clitoris, and that pulsing jet of water

blasting into her depths. The feeling of being somewhere well past the point of orgasm,

but unrelieved, unbearably pent up, near to the point of fainting from the intensity.

The car had pulled out into traffic. With the result that now her nipples were being

teased as her breasts wobbled under the embroidered bodice with every dip and curve in

the road. More stimulation. Somewhere, she could feel something shifting. Something

to do with relief, and orgasm, and her unspeakably pulsing and puffy vagina, and utterly

humiliating herself in front of her father.

***BUMP***

Ouch! That hurt! Her eyes fly open as she feels her side impact solidly on something in

the water, which slews her around rapidly, scraping along the something. It turns out to

be a large rock jutting up, and the further bad news is that the water is pouring around

it with a noticeable wake, rapidly. She pushes away, and paddles to reorient herself, while

peering ahead. To find very, very bad news. The river has developed a scary case of the

rapids, and not far ahead actually degenerates into very turbulent white water. 'Shit!'

One shore has gone very steep, nearly a cliff line. The other is jumbled, but definitely

her only choice. She breaks into a frantic backstroke, struggling to cut across the

current while there is still a chance.

She hits two more rocks as the flow speeds up, but each time manages to ward off them

with her boots, intensely aware of her naked skin and the roughness of the stone. Finally,

with only a few tens of meters to go before the main current sluices steeply into a series

of drops, she manages to reach shallow water and dig her heels in. Standing, she staggers

the rest of the way to shore, uneven footing under the turbulent water threatening to drop

her back into the current. Here the shore is an assortment of large monolithic boulders,

and she clambers out of the water between two, and up onto the flat top of the higher one.

Surveying ahead down the river valley, she is dismayed. She can see the end of the section

of rapids, but it is some distance away, and lower. There is clearly no way she is going

to be taking the river express down those rapids, yet the riverbank looks hardly more

inviting a route. Very jumbled, with no clear easy passage. Meanwhile, her body is feeling

equally jumbled. She can barely concentrate on slipping the leather floatie suit's embrace,

for the demanding ache between her legs. The scare with the rapids didn't have any effect

on her arousal - her clit and nipples still feel as hard as those rocks she bumped into.

Her vagina... she recalls that part of her day at the gynie again. Sitting in the car,

going home, feeling utterly empty, with her mind filled with memories of fullness - that's

how she feels now. That memory always has the same effect on her. Only now she has these

oversized breasts, and ginormous clit and nipples, with their achingness scaled to match.

She finishes rolling up her suit, and packing it into her backpack. No point trying to

convert it back to wearability for such a relatively short leg of land travel.

She stands again, lifting the water-heavy pack to her shoulders, and sets off.

As rapids go, these are small. But they will take her hours to bypass. She won't be getting

to the village today. Or coming anytime soon - not if she wants to be sure of getting back

before Vance and his cronies. No time to waste on pleasures. She sighs, wishing she'd

not put hers off so long on the river. Thinking of her vow to wait until these recollections

have run through to their end. Which now will not be till after she gets back to the river.

To be continued....