Jess

You try to twist away at first, but the effects hit fast. The sharp terror softens into a warm, heavy haze. Your thoughts grow slow, floaty, and loopy. The room sways gently around you.

Doctor Crowe steps between your spread thighs, clipboard in hand, his expression cold and utterly detached. His voice is flat, clinical, and professional.

“Subject 347. You are now conscious. We will begin preparation by thoroughly cleaning your vulva for detailed inspection.”

The first touch is the warm, dripping rag. You inhale sharply as the thick, wet heat drags slowly across your puffy outer lips. Doctor Crowe wipes with precise, methodical strokes, carefully folding back your labia to clean every slick, sensitive crease and fold. The warm fabric glides over your clit again and again, sending unwanted sparks of pleasure through your nitrous-dazed body.

“Labia majora: symmetrical and plump. Light natural moisture present,” he dictates in a cold monotone. “Labia minora: deeply flushed, highly vascularized. Clitoris: already erect and protruding from the hood. Subject is producing noticeable lubrication.”

The warm rag continues its slow, thorough strokes, the wet heat and gentle friction making your hips twitch faintly against the straps. Every pass over your clit sends a fresh wave of slick warmth through your core.

Then comes the sharp hiss of the showerhead. Warm water sprays out in a fine mist at first.

“We are now rinsing the area,” Doctor Crowe states coldly. “You may experience considerable stimulation. React in whatever way feels natural, 347.”

The stream shifts, and suddenly a strong, pulsing jet of warm water is beating directly onto your swollen clit. The sensation is intense, pressure hammering your most sensitive spot without mercy. A shaky, loopy moan escapes you through the mask.

They begin testing. Different modes: soft rain, strong pulsing massage, oscillating jets. Temperatures from soothingly warm to almost too hot. Your reactions grow louder and more desperate. When they find the perfect setting, firm, rapid pulses of perfectly hot water pounding right against your throbbing clit, your body jerks hard in the stirrups.

“Ah—! Fuck…” you whimper, voice floaty and broken from the nitrous.

“Optimal response with pulsed mode at 40°C,” Doctor Crowe notes without emotion. “Significant clitoral engorgement. Vaginal secretions increasing rapidly.”

The nurse turns the nitrous flow higher. The gas floods you deeper, turning the world soft and dreamy. Your head feels heavy and light at the same time, every sensation amplified and distant.

Doctor Crowe’s voice remains ice-cold. “Breathe deeply, Subject 347. Just relax.”

The water pressure increases, pounding harder against your clit. Then you feel the thick, smooth head of a dildo pressing against your slick entrance. It slides in slowly, stretching your hot, velvety walls with a wet, obscene squelch that echoes in the room. Doctor Crowe begins a steady, deep thrusting while the showerhead continues its relentless assault.

“Vaginal canal: warm, slick, and tightly gripping the instrument. Depth achieved: 14 centimeters,” he dictates clinically. “Cervix soft. Subject’s internal muscular contractions are strong and rhythmic.”

The combination is almost too much, the hot, pounding water hammering your clit, the thick dildo stroking deep inside your cunt, the heavy nitrous making everything feel floaty, overwhelming, and impossibly intense. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, turning into broken, loopy cries.

“Subject 347 is approaching orgasm,” Doctor Crowe states flatly. “Vaginal walls spasming. Increasing thrust depth and water pressure for complete assessment.”

The water pounds mercilessly. The dildo fucks you faster, harder. Your entire body tenses, thighs trembling violently in the stirrups. A long, shattered moan tears from your throat as you cum hard, your cunt clenching around the thrusting dildo, clit throbbing wildly under the hot spray, waves of blinding pleasure crashing through your nitrous-drunk mind.

Doctor Crowe keeps the stimulation going through every powerful spasm, observing with clinical detachment until your body finally goes limp, twitching and spent.

“Orgasm achieved. Strong stimuli response recorded. Subject 347 is now properly cleaned and sensitized.”

He turns off the water and slowly withdraws the dripping dildo with a wet pop. A soft, warm towel gently pats your oversensitive, puffy cunt dry, stroking carefully over your still-twitching folds.

“Preparation complete,” he announces in the same cold tone. “Subject 347’s vulva and vaginal canal is clean, flushed, and optimally prepared for the full examination.”

Doctor Crowe looks down at your blissed-out, floaty face, the mask still sealed over your mouth, eyes glassy.