64 lines
3.0 KiB
Plaintext
64 lines
3.0 KiB
Plaintext
I walk into the office; this is a new gynecologist, and I hate going to a
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new gynecologist. I pick up the flimsy paper robe and discard my
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clothing. I get up on the table, but do not place my feet in the
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stirrups -- why lay here spread before I am told to do so?
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The doctor walks in, sans nurse. I initially feel jittery -- why isn't
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the nurse here, too? After all, I thought most gynecologists have a
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nurse with them when they exam, to protect themselves in this day and age
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from sexual harassment complaints. But then I get a good look at him!!!
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Oooh! Give me that speculum, baby! Lube me up and dig right in!!!
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His hair and eyes are dark; he is tall, nicely built. I look at his
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fingers: long -- oh yes, so nice and long!!!
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"Put your feet in the stirups please." he says -- no introductions, no
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innocent chappter to make me feel at ease. No matter; I'll spread 'em.
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He gives me a devilish smile; he lubes his fingers -- fingers not a just
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one -- and penetrates me, one at a time.
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"An interesting new method, Doctor." I grin. "Have you got any other
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medical miracles you wish to share?"
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He looks shocked; ah, I understand. He wanted to victimize me, to shock
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me and make me uncomfortable. Too bad, doc!
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"Do you have any other medical miracles you wish to share with me, Doctor
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Mott?"
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He was shocked. So, he had wanted me to be frightened; he had wanted me
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to leave his office feeling violated. Surprise! Besides, there was no
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way I wanted to file a sexual harassment suit against him; I am Q, and I
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can see the future. He would shoot himself if someone did this, and I
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would much rather he shoot something into me. His wife was a nutty
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bitch, so I had been sent to quench his need for a victim -- ah the power
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he wielded as an ob/gyn. If I were mortal and actually required his
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services, I would probably notbe so open-minded about the whole thing.
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He was staring at me still, unable to bbelieve both his luck and his
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inability to have a power trip.
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"Give me some of that Mott juice, baby!" I growl, "I haven't got all
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century. I need to cause a little hysteria of my own on the Enterprise.)
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"Are you jerking my chainm Miss -- uh --"
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"Quantum Deep," I answer.
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"What kind of a name is that?"
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"My name, and I'll thank you to keep your puny mortal opinions to
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yourself. I want something bigger and better than your ideas about my name."
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He looked a bit scared now, so I helped him off with his clothes and got
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him on the table. I lowered myself on his instrument, and asked him to
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do a careful, probing examination.
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"I want a smear all right, but not of the Pap variety," I said, my hands
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on those phenomenal shoulders. "I want you to leave a sample rather than
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taking one."
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"You're one loony bitch!"
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"No loonier than what you've been married to for these past few years, my
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fine specimen of a man. Now I'm going to reverse our positions and
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you're going to give me the best you've got. Don't worry; I'll pay for
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the visit."
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