The cool voice hums softly by my ear, and the leather strap wrapped around my throat tightens another degree, digging into my skin. Each breath I pull in is gasping, my head pounding as my blood flow to my brain restricts further.
"Cutting supply seems to arouse the patient," The voice remarks, and a latex gloved finger drags through my folds. I twitch, hips rocking, though my movements are limited by the thickly padded cuffs around my wrists and ankles. The throat strap is connected to the examination table, so can only stare up at the ceiling, the bright lights overhead illuminating my vulnerable form.
The click of a pen light is the only warning I have before fingers pry my eyes open wider, shining the light in until my pupil constricts. "Petechial hemorrhage is beginning in the conjunctivi." Those same fingers peel lack my lips, and I can taste myself on the slick material. "As well as in the oral cavity."
I feel faint, foggy, sweaty breaking out in beads across my skin as that hand returns to my cunt. A strangled cry escapes me as they shove in two fingers without warning, stretching my cunt in a way that feels delicious, but oh so wrong.
Soon, the only sound in the room is the wet squelch of my cunt being fucked and my own strangled gasps. The doctor stays quiet, though every so often I can hear the hitch of breath, the hiss of air through teeth, a soft groan in answer to the wheezy whimpers I let out.
When their thumb starts to circle around my clit, black spots start to dance in front of my vision, and my mind is at war with my body. Just as I'm about to explode, the doctor withdraws their hand from my body, leaving me crashing and twitching on the table in front of them. My cunt pulses around nothing, arousal making a puddle on the brown paper beneath me, and I let out a dry sob, my body shaking with the force of the ruined orgasm.
I can barely hear the doctor over my own harsh breathing, my chest heaving with the force of it.
"Trial 3 completed." They sound as out of breath as I am, an excited quiver on their voice. The click of a recorder being shut off sounds next to my ear as a masked face looms over me, blurry from oxygen deprivation.
"You're doing so well, my sweet thing." They croon, gloved fingers stroking over my sweaty cheek and jaw, smoothing the hair back from my reddened face. "Just two more trials to go, and then you can have a rest."
I know begging is useless, but I open my mouth to try. Their hand covers my mouth, and I feel the strap around my throat tighten again. My vision wavers, fingers going numb as I stare with unfocused eyes up at them. The recorder clicks on, and I'm lost.
Too much medical kink porn is "Oh no I'm so horny and the only cure is your dick" nah fuck that, my medical kink isn't even always horny.
Give me gloved hands forcing my mouth open to do an inspection of my teeth. Give me strapping me down to the hospital bed for my "saftey". Give me pleasuring me simply to watch as my heart rate mentor rises in speed. Give me softly cooing and praising me as my vitals are checked or I'm given an IV. Give me a man who will make sure I'm healthy and taken care of, no matter what...
janainaart
jacobvanloon
germansingergirl
2087
origamiaround
theartofmadeline
