Hannah's Decision

"I'm no man's play toy." Hannah finished the last of her latte, standing to go.

The headhunter, Zach, grabbed her wrist and she frowned at him. "Listen to me—you'll regret it."

She shook loose, slinging her purse over her shoulder and picking up her empty latte cup. "Not interested. I don't make coffee, I order it."

"Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year," he said in a low voice as she walked by.

She stopped, turning, and put her trembling cup back on the table. "Don't fuck with me."

Zach shrugged. "Colin Harper has more money than God."

"He pays a quarter mil a year?" Hannah sat back down in her chair. She felt like if she didn't she was going to fall over. "What do his employees have to do? Give him daily blowjobs?"

He didn't respond from behind his coffee cup, but his eyes met hers over the rim and she suddenly felt cold.

"He's eccentric," Zach said, glancing toward the door and then at his watch. "You'll be one in about two hundred with a shot at the job."

She contemplated him for a moment, imagining the possibilities. For a quarter of a million dollars a year, she suddenly didn't care what she might have to do.

"What's the number?"

*****

Zach's figures had been off. Way off. She was one in two thousand women interviewing for the job, according to the man who did her physical exam. She had already been through a battery of tests, and not just those in office skills. An intelligence quotient test and five different psychological and personality tests had been part of the initial process, along with a strength training and physical endurance test.

If the number $250,000 hadn't kept flashing in her mind, she would have given up halfway through the process, and apparently a lot of women did. They had whittled it down to a thousand by now, the doctor told her—at least, he said he was a doctor, his nametag read Ralph Schultz, M.D.—and they would probably lose several hundred more after the physical.

"Why?" Hannah asked, fidgeting on the examining table in her little paper dress as he snapped his rubber gloves on.

He had already checked the basics—heart, lungs, ears, nose, throat, tummy sounds. Now it was on to the "female" part of the exam, and she was dreading it.

"Please lie down, Miss McLean," he instructed, pulling the stirrups out.

She'd already had an annual pap, just six months ago, but the company insisted on a complete physical by their personal physician. Putting her feet up in the stirrups, she assumed the usual "pap smear position," scooting down as far as she could.

"Very good, Miss McLean," the doctor said, draping a sheet over her legs. "To address your question, he has particular physical specifications. Let your knees fall open, please."

Hannah did as she was told, looking up at the ceiling at the "If you can dream it, you can be it" poster up there. She wondered why there wasn't a nurse in the room. Didn't they have to have a nurse there, just for liabilities' sake?

"My fingers are going to enter you, now," he said and she felt him probing between her lips, sliding two fingers inside of her. "Your history form said you've never been pregnant, correct, Miss McLean?"

"No," she replied, feeling his fingers sliding further inside of her, pressing the walls of her vagina open, first to the sides, then front and back. "I've never had children."

"Excellent vaginal muscle tone and response," he murmured. "Clearly a natural redhead."

She flushed, surprised at the observation. "Yes."

This wasn't going to be a normal physical exam, she realized, a little too late, as she felt him parting her lips with both hands.

"Clitoris slightly larger than average," he remarked, nudging it with his finger and making her jump. She stared, wide-eyed, up at the ceiling, holding her breath. "Vulva is aesthetically pleasing, quite full for such a slender build."

Hannah bit her lip as she felt his gloved fingers pulling at the inner lips of her vagina, spreading them open. "Labia minora are thick, a little distended, and have a healthy pink color."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing, that this was really happening. What had started as a routine physical exam was turning into some sort of genital inspection?

"Fine healthy anal opening, good color and shape," he noted, brushing the puckered hole with his finger, making Hannah's eyes go even wider. She clutched the sheet at her sides, her hands making fists. "You'll feel a little pressure now."

She gasped as a slippery, gloved finger slid into her rectum, twisting as it went.

"Excellent, tight sphincter muscle here," he remarked, sliding his finger back out.

She heard the snap of his gloves and the squeak of the garbage can lid as he pushed the foot pedal. He pulled on another pair of gloves and stood between her legs.

"Please relax, Miss McLean," he said as something cold slid between her lips. She thought, at first, that it must be a speculum, but then it began to hum.

"Wh—what are you doing?" Hannah asked, going up on her elbows and trying to see past the sheet draped over her thighs.

"Your questionnaire indicated that you have a normal orgasmic response," the doctor replied. "I need to verify your information."

"You... verify?" Hannah gasped as the vibrator slid up towards her clit, rubbing there. The doctor's eyes were on her face.

"Please relax, Miss McLean." He took a look at his watch, moving the vibrator over her clit, back and forth. "It will help to achieve the desired outcome."

She couldn't believe this was happening. Her face was burning and her limbs trembling with her embarrassment, but the vibrator against her clit was humming furiously, sending delicious waves of pleasure through her. She couldn't fight it, and she lay back with a gasp, feeling that powerful buzzing sensation filling her pelvis.

"That's it, Miss McLean, very good," he murmured, and she felt his fingers slipping inside of her.

"Wh—what—?"

"When you have an orgasm, I'll be able to feel it," he said, pressing his fingers downward in her vagina, toward her bottom. "Right here in your perineum. There is a characteristic spasm that happens, and the muscles will rapidly contract. It's completely involuntary. You will have no control over it."

Hannah whimpered, already feeling that familiar tighten and tingle in her lower belly. He was right, she couldn't stop it, she couldn't control it—she was going to have an orgasm right here on a physician's examining table!

"Ohhh," she breathed, her body flushing, her pussy beginning to flutter around the doctor's fingers as the vibrator sent her over the edge. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, shuddering all over with the delicious heat of her climax.

"Again, very good, Miss McLean," he said as she gasped and caught her breath on the examining table. "Your orgasmic response seems to fall within acceptable parameters."

His fingers were still pressing inside of her, massaging, feeling the last of the spasms slowing, fading. He didn't, however, move the vibrator away from her clit, and it was making Hannah squirm with the intensity of it.

"You've done very well so far, Miss McLean," he said, moving the head of the vibrator back and forth over her clit. "I trust you'll offer your continued cooperation as we proceed to test for a multiple orgasmic response."

"Oh god," Hannah moaned, swallowing hard. She could see the doctor watching her face as he rubbed the vibrating tip over and over her sensitive clit. She made a sound like she was in pain, her toes curling. "Please."

She felt his fingers turn upward, pressing the smooth walls of her vagina up towards the ceiling with a fast, crooking motion

"What's—oh!" Hannah gasped.

She closed her eyes against it, but couldn't help being carried away by the sensation. The vibrator was making circles around her clit, sending her on a dizzying spiral towards another climax. His fingers were still making that motion, rubbing deep inside of her.

"Ohhhhhhh," she moaned as another orgasm swept quickly over her, leaving her legs trembling in the stirrups.

"Excellent, Miss McLean, you exceed expectations," the doctor noted and she saw him looking at her laying breathless and quivering on the table. "Your secondary contractions are strong and tight."

He turned the vibrator off, but his fingers stayed buried inside of her, still rubbing that spot. "Now, I need to observe your response to stimulation of your Gräfenberg spot."

Hannah had never felt anything like it before. Her pussy was still swollen and wet from the two orgasms he had given her, and now his fingers were stimulating her even more, creating a mounting pressure between her legs.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, her eyes going wide as she had a sudden urge to pee. Embarrassed, she tried to close her legs, but the stirrups wouldn't allow it. "Please, stop..."

"It's quite alright," he replied, rubbing faster, even harder, using both fingers to sweep against the walls of her vagina in that one, sensitive spot. "You may feel as if you have to urinate. That's quite normal."

She bit her lip, feeling that pressure building. "But..."

"This can take quite a while for some women." He looked at his watch. "But your second clitoral orgasm followed the first quite quickly. I have a feeling your g-spot orgasm will—oh!"

She didn't know what was happening, but whatever it was made her whole body feel alive and on fire. It was like an orgasm, but it wasn't—deeper, fuller, radiating in hot waves through her as she twisted and bucked against his hand. She was moaning, she knew it and couldn't help it as she flooded him with her juices.

"Well, Miss McLean," the doctor said, clearing his throat as he removed his hand. "You seem to exceed all expectations. We don't get many female ejaculations."

Hannah felt a heat filling her face and knew she was blushing. She pressed her hands to her cheeks to cool them and wished she could pull the sheet up over her head.

"Give me a moment..." The doctor was moving around between her thighs and she could feel wetness on them as he used dry paper towels to wipe her off.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, feeling like she wanted to sink through the table into the floor.

"No apologies necessary," he replied, pulling off his gloves and throwing them away. He quickly donned another pair. "A rare response, but not unheard of. You exhibit one of the higher level job qualifications that Mr. Harper is seeking."

Hannah stared up at the poster on the ceiling, still not quite believing that this was happening. She knew, now, why Mr. Harper's "not-exactly-a-secretary" was paid such an exorbitant amount of money, and she knew, too, that she couldn't possibly take this job. All of the tests up until now had seemed a little much, but she had just kept remembering Zach's words: he's eccentric. This, though... this was too much.

"You've done very well so far," the doctor said, coming to stand beside her. "One more procedure and we'll be complete."

She looked up at him, shaking her head. Whatever it was, it couldn't be any worse than what she had already allowed this afternoon. She just wanted to get it over with, get out of here, and never look back.

The doctor's hand slid under the sheet, palpating in the familiar circles of a breast exam. He pulled the fabric down as he worked, squeezing each nipple, checking for signs of fluid.

"Breasts are firm," he noted. "Pleasingly shaped, no implants, I would say a B or a C."

His other hand came up and cupped her breast, squeezing her nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

"Large nipples, very pink." He rolled them gently, around and around, watching Hannah's face. "They get quite red upon arousal and the areola darkens."

She squirmed and felt her pussy responding, still aching and swollen from his earlier attention, in spite of herself.

"Close your eyes, please," he murmured, his fingers rolling faster now. "Breathe and relax, we're almost finished."

She did, gratefully, and that alone increased the sensation, as if her nipples were directly connected to the sensitive bud of her clit. It felt so good she could barely stand it.

The doctor's fingers worked magic around her nipples, tugging and pulling and squeezing. "Many women who are able to ejaculate like you did today can actually have a climax from nipple stimulation alone."

"I've never—" she whispered, gasping when his lips covered one of her breasts, sucking her nipple deep into his warm, wet mouth.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized, licking at the fat bud of her nipple. "An orgasm can often be more easily achieved through oral stimulation..."

Hannah moaned as he sucked and licked her nipple while squeezing and tugging on the other. She knew she should get up and leave, right now, indignant and outraged, but she couldn't. Something was keeping her on the table, her body trembling, undergoing the most exquisite torture.

"And I need my other hand," he admitted, sounding a little sheepish and she felt him slide his fingers down between her legs and into her open pussy. They pressed downward again, just resting there, waiting.

"Oh god," she moaned, arching her back as his mouth made wet trails around her nipple, his other hand pulling and tugging until her breasts felt as if they were on fire, her pussy throbbing for release. "Oh yes, yes, that's it!"

The doctor made a noise in his throat, his lips fastened over her breast as he suckled, fast and hard. She could feel the muscles of her pussy contracting around his fingers as she came, her orgasm a deep pulse that went on and on, rocking her on the table.

Hannah closed her eyes, pulling the sheet up to her neck, rolling slightly away. The humiliation of what she'd just done spread through her like a fever—she was burning with it.

"You did very well," the doctor told her, his voice coming from across the room. "You can go ahead and get dressed. I'll send the results on over to Mr. Harper in the morning, and the lab tests will follow, of course."

He left the room and Hannah put her clothes on with trembling hands, taking three tries to do up her own bra. She looked at herself in the mirror over the sink as she fastened the last few buttons on her blouse.

I don't look any different.

Yet, she felt different, changed somehow, as if she had set a foot down some dark path this afternoon. She wondered if there was time to turn back.

"Good luck, and I hope you get called back," the doctor said as she walked by him. Hannah didn't meet the eyes of the receptionist, wondering what she thought, if she knew what kind of "examination" went on in those little rooms.

There were two other women in the waiting room, both professional-looking, wearing suits, and Hannah hesitated as she looked back at them, her hand on the door.

They don't know what they're in for.

Shaking her head, she pushed the outside door open and left, knowing that she couldn't tell them and knowing, too, that she wasn't going to take this job. Even if it did pay $250,000 a year.