Every single week I’m back in that freezing cold doctor’s office, shivering as he locks the door behind me with a calm click. “Strip. Everything off,” he orders without even looking up from his chart. The room is always ice-cold, my nipples hardening instantly the second the air hits my skin. I fold my clothes neatly on the chair like he expects, then stand there naked and exposed while he circles me slowly.

He starts with my breasts. Rough, gloved hands grope and squeeze them, lifting and pressing, pinching my sensitive nipples until I whimper. “Still too sensitive here,” he mutters clinically, twisting one harder just to watch me squirm. He comments on my weight, my posture, how soft my belly is, slapping my abdomen lightly to watch it jiggle. Every little flaw is noted out loud in that detached, professional tone that makes me feel like a piece of meat being examined.

Then comes the worst part.

He guides me onto the table, forces my legs up into the cold metal stirrups, spreading me obscenely wide. Thick leather restraints buckle tightly around my wrists and thighs, pinning me completely. I can’t close my legs. I can’t even shift away. I’m completely helpless, cunt on full display under the harsh lights.

The doctor sits between my spread legs and begins the pelvic exam. His gloved fingers probe roughly around my entrance, spreading my lips apart without any gentleness. He slides two thick fingers deep inside me, scissoring and stretching me open while he measures and inspects. The speculum comes next — ice-cold metal that he forces into my tight hole without warming it. He cranks it open wide, stretching my walls painfully as he shines a light inside me, commenting on how wet I’m already getting.

“Patient is exhibiting clear signs of arousal again,” he says flatly, like I’m not even there.

His fingers find my swollen clit and start rubbing — firm, clinical, merciless circles. No matter how much I struggle against the restraints or beg him to stop, he doesn’t. He just keeps rubbing faster, occasionally slapping my exposed cunt when I squirm too much. The wet, filthy sounds of his gloved fingers pumping in and out of my dripping pussy echo in the quiet room. He adds a third finger, stretching me brutally while his thumb grinds hard on my clit until my thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

I fight it. I really do. But I always end up cumming hard around his fingers like a pathetic, restrained little slut — walls clenching and gushing all over his hand while he watches with cold professional interest.

By the time he’s done, I’m a dripping, trembling mess. He finally removes the speculum and restraints, hands me a single thin wipe like it’s nothing, and says, “Clean yourself up. Same time next week.”

"We can begin. Release the specimen."

Something cold and wet glides between my sensitive folds - the speculum they used for the initial examination was removed for the experiment itself, but the sensation of being stretched quickly comes back when something slimy swirls around my hole and easily slips inside.

I don't see between my legs through the sheet that was put over them but the ultrasound image and the endo camera feed on the screen let me know exactly what is happening. This "specimen", a living, moving mass is making its way through my pussy, expanding and contracting on its way deeper. I gasp from the stretching sensation and the skin of my stomach mirrors its movements, bulging under the probe the researcher is pressing down on a little too hard.

"We have a visual."

A dark, rippling mass fills the screen, leaving the cervix visible just barely enough, but from the overwhelming pressure alone I know exactly what's going to happen. The tentacle changes shape into a pointed, needle-like tip and without any warning strikes the entrance of my uterus. I cry out and feel my eyes burn.

"Secretion of analgesic pre-seminal fluids. Hormonal and physical stimulation of the test subject began."

The excrutiating pain and pressure of having my cervix stretched quickly dissolves into feeling of pleasant warmth. The tentacle inside me starts moving again, slowly and rythmically filling my pussy and womb with whatever aphrodisiac it produces to make its victim all relaxed and docile. Mere seconds later my entire body is tingling in hot static and when more tendrils start lapping at my clit now covered in the creature's fluids, my legs cramp and I let out the most obscene moan I would be ashamed of in any other situation.

"Orgasm confirmed," the ultrasound tech presses down even harder in attempt to keep my pelvis in place, but the only thing I feel is my pussy and the entire lower half contracting in synch with the frantic ECG monitor I am hooked up to.

"Cervix dilation?"

"Sufficient. Egg deposition begins. Readjust the camera."

My vision is blurry and mind pleasantly unfocused from whatever hormones the creature pumped my system full of, but I'm aware enough to give the screen a passing look. The tentacle is semi-translucent now, buried and anchored long past my cervix, somewhere in my womb. And as the translucent tentacle starts filling with round, marble-like objects, I understand why the experiment called for the subject to be mid-cycle and not on any birth control. I breathe heavily as I watch the creature's eggs slip past my numb cervix, one by one.

All researchers' eyes are glued the screen as they watch the creature breed in real time. This is it, this is the moment they put endless hours of preparations into. A conception of something new, something out of this world. They needed to make sure it will work. And that every moment of it will be recorded and catalogued, so it can be repeated again.

just... wanna find myself lying on a surgical table. naked, cold, uncomfortable, nervous. surrounded by a team of masked, scrubbed, gloved doctors

want to feel all their hands on me at once as they grope me, stroke me, tease me. their gloves feel so strange against my bare skin and my brain gets confused by the pleasure they're bringing me because it just doesn't feel quite right with that nitrile barrier between us

want them to get me all worked up, bringing me right to the edge, but never letting me slip over into bliss. want their hands to slowly settle down until my shoulders are pinned and my hips are stilled and gently, carefully, my legs are pulled apart and secured into cold, uncomfortable stirrups

and one of them takes a seat between my legs, eyes boring into my aching cunt, on full display. want to whimper and squirm as they prod at my pussy, completely unfeeling, completely clinical, despite the moans they pull out of me stroking my clit and dipping their gloved fingers into my sopping wet hole

and when they take up a syringe, i start to panic, sobbing as it disappears between my legs. struggling against the hands still holding me down, i cry out when i feel the sharp sting of an injection, whining and whimpering as my pussy starts to go numb

and when the doctor between my legs stands up again and takes out their cock, i can't help but cry. i can't feel it when they sink into me but they pull an orgasm out of me all the same, my body going through the motions of it without giving me any of the pleasure. just a swooping sensation in my stomach and a brief fading of my vision before the next doctor lines themselves up

they each fuck me, use me, make me cum without letting me really feel it, while the others hold me down, keep me still, ignoring my whines and sobs as they watch their colleagues each take a turn with me

and when they're done, when the feeling starts to come back to my pussy, i ache. i sob as my cunt throbs, as my clit twitches, swollen and oversensitive. i wait for the hands holding me down to pull away, to let it be over, but then the first doctor reappears between my legs, cock out again, stroking it as they peer down at me

"One more round should fix it," they say, plunging into me again, as the hands on me go back to groping, eager to overwhelm me as they wait for their turn...

you hear gloves snapping on the doctors hand with an eager sigh :3

just a finger to start, alright? … there you go just relax with it around you, such a good pup! you’re handling this so well, here’s two. shh shh i know it’s okay. look at you! so eager and taking me so well. are you already clenching around my fingers? oh you poor patient, here’s three. don’t mind the pumping, it’s just standard. you make the prettiest sounds! a shame i can’t put that on todays report.

the concept of a cather... temporarily being used as it should be. it is put in, and attached to a bag, and maybe I can even wear one of those lil catheter thigh thingies so I can walk around or whatever. and it feels a lil weird, but I get used to it-- its kinda enjoyable to not have to deal with getting up and peeing, for the most part, occasionally emptying the bag but thats not a problem and is less uncomfortable for sure! maybe doing this for a day, maybe even longer, get me used to changing a catheter bag instead of holding, my bladder never feels remotely full even with morning pee bc it all drains out right away...