Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76329 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
The screen displayed a high-resolution, clinical image of my most intimate parts spread open by the speculum. Nurse Georges pointed with a gloved finger to a little white ring in the middle.
“That’s the membrane we call the hymen,” she said. “When a man’s penis enters you, it will rupture your hymen. That will cause some discomfort, but it will pass quickly. More important, perhaps, your submissive sexuality will make the discomfort itself a source of excitement.”
I turned my head away, my cheeks burning with humiliation.
“Please, I don’t want to see that,” I whispered, though I didn’t feel sure that the nurse’s mortifying words hadn’t disturbed me more than the terribly graphic image. I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.
“You should familiarize yourself with your own anatomy,” Nurse Georges replied, her tone matter-of-fact as she finally lowered the tablet. “It’s important for you to understand what your sponsor will be purchasing.”
Purchasing. The word made my stomach clench. Is that what this was? Was I selling myself? The clinical framing of Selecta’s ‘arrangement’ suddenly felt like a thin veneer over something much more primitive.
“We’re not quite finished,” Nurse Georges continued, removing the speculum with a slick sound that made me wince. “I’m going to examine your rectum as well.”
I tensed immediately. “My… rectum?” I stammered, my voice barely audible.
“Of course. Selecta Arrangement sponsors have the right to expect full sexual access to your body, especially at the luxury level where the First Intimacy Program comes into play,” she explained as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “I need to assess your suitability for anal penetration.”
Before I could object, I felt her gloved finger, now slick with some kind of lubricant, pressing against my anus. I gasped, my body instinctively trying to pull away from the intrusion.
“Relax,” she instructed firmly. “Bearing down slightly will make this easier.”
I tried to follow her instructions, focusing on my breathing as her finger slowly pressed inside me. The sensation was terribly odd—uncomfortable, invasive, and yet, to my profound mortification, also not entirely unpleasant. I felt my face flush even hotter as my body betrayed me once again, a soft involuntary moan escaping my lips.
“The sensor indicates increased arousal,” Nurse Georges observed clinically. “That’s good. Many young women find anal stimulation quite pleasurable once they become accustomed to it—especially girls as submissive as you are.”
Her finger withdrew, and I heard the snap of her changing gloves. The momentary relief was short-lived as I felt the cold metal of another speculum pressing against my rear opening.
“This will be uncomfortable,” she warned, though her tone held no particular sympathy. “Try to relax.”
The pressure was more intense this time, a stretching sensation that bordered on pain as the speculum slowly opened inside me. I bit my lip hard to keep from crying out, my fingers clutching at the edges of the examination table.
“Very good,” Nurse Georges murmured after what felt like an eternity. “Your rectal tissues appear healthy and normal. No abnormalities.”
I heard another click and knew she had taken another photograph, though mercifully she didn’t show me this one.
“The speculum is coming out now,” she announced. “Bear down gently.”
I followed her instructions, feeling the metal device slide out of me. Its removal left me feeling strangely empty and exposed. I lay there, breathing heavily, trying to process the humiliation I’d just endured. But Nurse Georges wasn’t finished with me yet.
“Based on my examination,” she said, making notes on her tablet, “your anal passage is quite tight. This is to be expected, of course, but you should know that initial anal penetration will be quite uncomfortable for you.”
I stared at the ceiling, wishing I could disappear. How had my life come to this point? Just yesterday I’d been a respected intern at an international energy program. Now I was naked on an examination table while a clinical-voiced nurse discussed my anal passage as casually as if she were talking about my dental health.
“Regular training with an anal plug will help prepare you,” she continued, her tone neutral. “Your sponsor will expect you to welcome his penis there. Preparation can make the experience more comfortable for you—and more pleasurable for your sponsor.”
I swallowed hard, not trusting myself to speak. The thought of being penetrated there by a man—by a stranger—made my stomach clench with anxiety.
“I’ll send you home with a set of anal plugs and detailed instructions on how to prepare your bottom for your sponsor’s enjoyment,” Nurse Georges said, as if she were telling me she’d be prescribing vitamins. “The training regimen is quite straightforward. You’ll start with the smallest size and gradually work your way up as your body adjusts.”
She moved around the examination room, opening drawers and collecting items I couldn’t see from my position. The casual way she discussed these intimate matters made them seem almost normal, as if every young woman naturally prepared her body for a stranger’s sexual use.