Jenny had become increasingly sickened by the society she lived in. As a 21 year old and newly graduated college student, she had recently become very active in the field of human rights and it was only too apparent to her, the more she learned, that the world was not equal and that the strong try to control the weak. She had become particularly interested in women’s rights and called herself a feminist although she was not naturally the type to cause a fuss or disturbance. But sometimes, she thought to herself, you have to stand up for what is right, and everywhere she saw men had the power and women were subservient to their desires. It depressed and upset her so much that she would sometimes become uncharacteristically passionate when discussing it with her boyfriend. He, on the other hand, knew what was coming and for the sake of preserving his ability to get into her panties he would placate and agree with whatever Jenny said.

 “Jenny Fromm, room 2,” said the crackly intercom, as the young former student was summoned to meet the physician. She got up, happy that at least she hadn’t had to wait very long, and made her way to the designated room. She knocked and heard a muffled and masculine “Come in!” from the room inside and entered as requested. “Please lie down on the trolley if you will,” said the doctor, a neatly dressed and groomed man in his early fifties. This was rather surprising to Jenny who had expected to be offered a chair instead. Nevertheless, in the doctor’s domain she felt compelled to comply and, putting her handbag on the floor, she lay on the medical trolley of the kind you see in hospital as patients are pushed around, doing exactly as she was told. The doctor got up from behind his desk and walked around to the trolley, looking at her intently. After a pause that was just long enough to get Jenny wondering if he would speak at all, he said, “What appears to be the problem today, Jenny is it?” “Yes,” Jenny confirmed, politely, before continuing, “I have quite a sore throat and am worried it might be a chest infection.” “Ahh, a chest infection, I see,” said the doctor looking at Jenny’s ample young chest.

 The trolley that Jenny was lying on was head on against the wall so that three sides of it could be walked around. The doctor walked to the far side of it and asked Jenny to sit up on it and face the other way so that he was now behind her. Jenny did this but sat too far away on the opposite edge so that the doctor had to patiently ask her to skoot backwards a little so that her bottom was squarely in the middle of the trolley. Jenny found all this rather strange but didn’t question it. Shouldn’t he be asking her to open wide and looking down her throat with a flashlight or something? Shouldn’t he be saying “Take two of these and goodbye”? “Please undo the top buttons of your blouse and face towards the front,” said the doctor from behind her, making a noise that appeared to Jenny from behind her back to be the doctor getting ready to use his stethoscope. Jenny undid a couple of buttons on her white blouse which exposed the beginnings of her firm young cleavage, her upper chest now exposed but her dignity retained. “A couple more buttons if you please,” said the doctor, suddenly, and Jenny, somewhat surprised, loosened a couple more which left her bra now more fully exposed. Jenny was suddenly overcome with a feeling of uneasy self-consciousness. 

 “Stay quite still please and breathe normally,” said Dr Scheer. “I just want to listen to your breathing.” The doctor pressed his stethoscope against Jenny’s back and moved it to several differing places. Jenny began to relax a little. Perhaps the strangeness and uneasy self-consciousness it had produced was just her own sense of insecurity? The doctor was just doing his job as he thought best. Suddenly, the doctor’s hand came from behind her and the stethoscope was pressed against her chest just below her throat. “Breathe,” said the doctor, seductively. The instrument felt slightly cold to her bare skin but she didn’t mind the procedure save for the doctor’s unusual stance in carrying it out. The doctor moved the stethoscope again from one side of her upper chest to the other before he let the stethoscope go and, without warning, his hand lowered slightly as he gently cupped Jenny’s right breast in his hand. Jenny started. Was this really happening? The doctor’s hand moved from one breast to the other, caressing the mound beneath the bra through the lacey fabric. Jenny was dumbstruck, in shock, and no sound came from her mouth. The doctor, taking advantage of the silence, raised his hand and slipped it inside the left cup of Jenny’s bra to feel the flesh beneath. Playing with her nipple, Jenny heard the sound of him masturbating behind her with his free hand.

 Jenny was in a trance. What was she to do? She felt rooted to the spot and stuck in a moment it was beyond her ability to change. She was mesmerised. With his right hand, and still masturbating, the doctor quickly and deliberately pulled the blouse down from Jenny’s shoulders and unhooked her bra with an ease uncharacteristic of most men. The bra now untethered, Jenny’s breasts came free and the doctor eagerly squeezed them as they came into view. “Sit back a bit more,” he said gruffly, in a trance of his own, and Jenny, for reasons she would never be able to explain, complied, caught in the spell this situation had produced. The doctor teased her nipples, rubbing them between his fingers, and Jenny’s body, trained to respond to appropriate stimulation, replied by making those pink nipples firm and erect. The doctor came closer to Jenny so that the exhalation of his breath was on her neck, his hand still massaging her young, firm mammaries. “Undo the button on your jeans,” the doctor whispered, as if uttering an incantation she could not resist.

 Again, Jenny complied for she felt that she could not do anything except what the doctor told her to do. The doctor walked around to the other side of the trolley and deftly caused Jenny to fall back onto it, its raised back meaning Jenny was now lying at an angle. “Slip the jeans down a little,” the doctor calmly and confidently instructed his patient. As she did so, Dr Scheer slipped off her shoes and pulled her jeans right off, exposing conservative white cotton panties beneath which did their best to hide her trimmed cunt below. Jenny looked at him as his proud cock stood before him, precum glistening on the head. “Stand up, please,” said the doctor, and Jenny, an automaton, did as she was bidden. The doctor then shuffled her over into a corner of the room and began feeling her ass, his free hand once more masturbating his engorged penis. Jenny began to wonder how long this would last as the endurance of the moment began to bring back her thinking faculties. But then the randy old doctor pressed against her and she felt his thick stubby cock through the thin cotton fabric of her panties, soaking the material with his enjoyment. 

 Doctor Scheer was not yet finished as he slipped Jenny’s panties down and began to rub his penis against the crack of her ass. Inevitably, his swollen head found a way between her pert cheeks and soon enough every stroke of his masturbating deposited a little more spunk on Jenny’s tightly puckered asshole. The doctor was breathing heavily and moaning behind her, clearly now taking full pleasure from such proximity to her nubile, young body. He began to thrust against her ass, his hands once more searching for the rounded globes on her chest. He dry humped her repeatedly, whispering filthy obscenities into the helpless patient’s ear. Next he bent her slightly forward and his hard cock disappeared between his patient’s legs, now rubbing against Jenny’s labia. Jenny then, unthinkably, let out an involuntary noise which the doctor chose to interpret as enjoyment and he took one hand and used it to locate her clit which he began to stimulate. “Come for me you dirty little whore. I know what you came here for,” said the doctor as his thick fingers now entered her tight cunt, thirsty in their search for wetness. Then he finger fucked her, trying to find the rhythm to which her body could not help responding with liquid pleasure, and all the while his cock was depositing sticky enjoyment on her round, peachy ass.

 Three of the doctor’s unprofessional fingers now inside Jenny, she felt that she was close to cumming for she could not hold off the stimulation he was providing any longer. The doctor had somehow slipped the head of his cock into her asshole and so she was being penetrated in two holes at the same time. Her body was glowing and she felt a tremendous swell of pleasure inside her she wasn’t sure she was meant to resist or not. Behind her, the doctor himself was saying, “Yes baby, yes, yes” and suddenly she felt him tense up as his cock pumped cum into her behind. The doctor had, by this time, forced himself balls deep in her bum, something she had never experienced before. His obvious pleasure and shuddering orgasm then pushed her over the edge as she orgasmed herself, her labia now glistening as a visual result of the pleasure she had finally allowed out of her. The doctor removed his sticky fingers from her slowly, producing threads of sticky honey from her pussy as he did so. But suddenly the doctor turned her around, his cock covered in the cum he had shot into such a tight space, and he pushed Jenny to her knees as if she was to suck him clean, tasting her ass on his cock as she did so. As the cock approached her open mouth in slow motion the poorly serviced intercom crackled into life, immediately extracting Jenny from her vivid daydream. “Jenny Fromm, room 2 please,” said the voice of what sounded like a middle-aged male doctor. Jenny, red-faced at being suddenly pulled back into reality, got up and, without a second thought, went home.