Appointment #2

It was a week later, at the same time, in the same room. Emma sat on the exam table with the white sheet in her lap, and her pants folded on the chair. Her nerves were different this time. It was not a fear of the unknown that bothered her, it was just a dread of knowing exactly what was to come. It was the 12 painful plucks that were going to sting her sensitive areas. She just had to face them one at a time.

There was a knock on the door and it opened. In walked the lab technician.

“Good afternoon, 28.” He said, consulting his paperwork.

“Good afternoon, LT.” She forced herself to match his pleasantries, and use the silly code names they were required to use.

“This is your second visit. I’ll start with a few questions.” He began, reading off the paperwork. “Have you noticed any unexpected side effects from the injection,”

“No.” She answered.

“Any discomfort beyond a few hours of tenderness in the area?”

“No.”

“And any adverse reactions to the hair removals last time?”

“No.”

“Any new changes to skin condition, such as a rash, irritation, or red spots?” He asked.

“No.” She answered.

“Very well. Do you have any questions for me?” He asked. She still wondered who and what they were doing with her hairs, but she knew that sort of question would not be answered in this clinical trial. She couldn’t think of anything else to inquire about.

“No, I don’t think so.” She said nervously, knowing what lay ahead.

“Very good.” He continued. “I think we are ready to begin. Would you like me to call a chaperone again?” He asked.

Images of the grandmother watching the procedure flashed into her memory. She did not want to repeat that again. It was easy enough to turn that option down, but it did mean being alone with him. He seemed professional last time. He had checked on her throughout, and overall had been respectful. The more she thought about it, her apprehension was more about the procedure, and not about him. She decided to risk it.

“No, I don’t think we need to call her.” She replied with just a hint of confidence.

“You are sure?” He asked again.

“Yea, I’m sure.” She replied. She was ready to get this over with.

“Ok. In that case, we can begin as we did last time.” He gestured to the length of the exam table, signaling it was time for her to lie down.

Emma stretched out like last time. The sheet remained in place as LT pulled on his gloves and readied the tool. While the process was exactly the same, Emma noticed she was focused more on him than before. While the chaperone had provided that 3rd person safety, they had also taken up some of Emma’s attention. It was now just her and LT, two adults, engaged in an intimate medical procedure. He had her full attention.

LT folded the sheet down, gently swayed her pubic hair to one side with his free hand, and began to pull the first hair.

“FUCK!” she exclaimed as the first hair popped free.

“Sorry, it’s just intense.” She apologized.

“No worries.” LT responded. “It’s a perfectly reasonable response.” He applied some pressure and a wiggle to the spot.

“OK to proceed? He asked.

“Yes.” She answered.

He proceeded with hairs 2, 3, and 4. She let go with two more “Fucks” and a “Shit.” It was almost amusing, the contrast between his methodical professionalism and her cursing outbursts. She appreciated his focus on the task, and letting her cope in her own way.

“Stirrups again?” he asked when it was time to move on.

“Yes, please.” Emma answered. She scooted down to the end of the table, lifted her legs, and spread them out to rest in the cradles. She wondered to herself, did I just say please to stirrups?

Unlike lying on her back for the first set, the exposure of this wide open position was much more noticeable. She clenched the sheet across her stomach in her hands as she watched him get into position between her legs. She knew he had a full view of her most intimate area. There was no chaperone to split their focus. She just lay there, motionless, watching him prepare his tools and waiting for him to return his attention to her.

“Ok. This will be just like last time.” LT said. “I’m going to touch you with an open hand, to hold the surrounding hair out of the way.” He pressed his open palm to her vulva and gently drifted it all to one side. As he moved in to select the next hair, Emma realized it was somewhat comforting to have his hand covering her that way. It was still gloved and clinical, but his touch was firm and steady. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her there, and even this sort of touch was pleasant. While the contact of his hand was simple and broad, Emma could tell certain parts of her body were feeling it differently.

He worked his way around, gathering hairs 5, 6, 7, and 8. She reduced her “Fucks” down to just “FU…,” and a couple of “AIYEEeee…”

“Very good.” LT announced. “Down to the last 4.”

Emma knew what to do. She awkwardly transitioned from having her legs up in the stirrups to being on her hands and knees. At the first visit LT had talked her through each of the position changes and what he was going to do. Now that she knew the routine she moved on her own without instructions. The only sound was the crinkling of the paper as she got onto her hands and knees. She noticed how LT stayed seated on his rolling stool. and just watched, waiting for her to make herself available. She turned around, raised her ass up to his eye level, and backed up to him. It was a humbling way to present herself. She separated her knees like he had taught her and waited. She was now open back there, on full display.

She closed her eyes and hung her head as he began working on her backside. As before, he placed his free hand on one of her butt cheeks and squeezed, causing her crack to open farther. The feeling of open air on her pucker was obvious. The normal protection of being closed was gone. The sensation of being exposed to the air was also a sign of being exposed to his gaze. There was no way he could possibly complete his task without also visually inspecting the gateway to her crinkly little hole.

He selected a hair and slowly pulled it from her skin. Her cursing had evolved into guttural noises, a sort of primal grunting. It started low and quickly ramped up in pitch to the point when the hair came free. She could feel her sphincter tightening in response to the sting. In fact, the entire region tightened itself, puckering in an attempt to withdraw from the pain. Emma tried to stay steady throughout these last extractions, but she couldn’t control the way her openings were tightening and relaxing with every pull. They had a mind of their own. She wondered if he was focused on just the hair, or if he was watching her holes involuntarily flex and relax in response to each pull. She clenched her jaw, bracing for the next one. Her contorted grunts and pelvic contractions accentuated each hair removal.

When the last hair had been collected she sighed in relief. Only the shot was left, and that was not even half as bad. She heard LT close the specimen container, set down the tweezer tool, and fill in some data on the form. A couple deep breaths later she heard him rip open the alcohol wipe. The overall process didn’t take long, but any amount of time spent on one’s hands and knees with a bare ass aimed at a strange felt like an eternity. And without watching him, Emma assumed he was taking his time so that he could continue staring at her nakedness.

LT rubbed the alcohol pad on her other cheek this time. A few small circles and then a final wipe across.

“Alright, last step is the injection.” He said. “Hold still.”

He placed his free hand on her butt cheek to steady her. A few seconds later she felt the needle pierce her skin and slide into her muscle. She remained frozen as the liquid pushed into her flesh, forcing a new pathway to inhabit, and pooling inside the tissue. Then the needle was pulled out. The withdrawal hurt less, but still carried that weird sensation of metal passing through skin.

She heard the click of the sharps protector, and then he set it down. LT applied a bandaid to the injection site, and was done.

“We are finished.” He said. “Thank you.”

Emma dropped back on her ankles and maneuvered herself to a sitting position. She pulled the sheet back into her lap. It was less about covering up, and more about following the established routine of the appointment.

“You may get dressed.” He said. “I’ll be back in a minute with the paperwork.” LT left the room and closed the door.

Emma lifted herself up off the paper and dropped down to the floor. She retrieved her panties from her pants pocket and pulled them up. Next her jeans, and then she sat to do her socks and shoes. There was a gentle knock and LT entered the room. He handed her the paper.

“Thanks again.” he said. “See you next week.”

“Ok.” Emma replied. As she turned to walk out her eye briefly glanced at the wrinkled paper on the table. Where she had sat bare bottom at the end of the procedure she had left a standing crease in the paper, along with a small wet spot. There was no way to hide it without drawing his attention. She just hoped he would not see it, and it would go unnoticed during the next room cleaning. It probably happens all the time, she tried to reassure herself. That’s why they put paper down.

She walked down the hall with a bit more confidence than her first visit. She knew the routine and it was a familiar place. She stopped at reception, exchanged the paper for her payment, and continued out of the building.

She waited for the bus stop, watching the world move around her. No one knew what she had just done. No one could look at her and tell that just 10 minutes ago she had been naked and spread wide, touched by the hands a stranger, in both front and back and between her her legs. The complete exposure and intimate contact was a secret, along with the envelope of cash in her pocket. It was a fair deal, not fun, but fair.

The restaurant was slow and her shift ended early. Going home sooner was nice, but with less money was depressing. Now more than ever she was surviving thanks to the clinical trial. She called it her Pussy Money. Her pussy had earned more in 15 minutes than she had earned working for 5 hours.

Her limited budget was covering food, but not wine. She got into bed and watched a little TV to unwind. At some point the hand between her legs was more interesting than the show. Emma turned the TV off and focused on that warm, humming sensation growing under her finger tips. Her pussy had earned her keep today. It had not been sexual work, but the touch and attention was hard to forget. Surviving the first couple appointments felt like an accomplishment, and now she knew she could tolerate it again next week. She pressed and rubbed herself until her muscles took over and started pulsing on their own. For a brief moment the worries of the world faded away and she thought only of pleasure. It was a small orgasm, but felt good nonetheless. She calmed her breathing, rolled onto her side, and tried to fall asleep.