Rachelle's Midnight Treatment Pt. 01

TRACY RANSOM

Come with us now on a hilarious late-night romp through the E.R. at a very wacked-out hospital.

A shy and submissive young woman wakes in pain and must place herself in the hands of her emergency room. No one tells her, some staff there need psychiatric attention. Or maybe jail.

She is poked, drugged, prodded, peeped, and anal-scoped. For starters. The obedient young woman runs out of patience at the bizarre solutions for her medical dilemma, but a full winter moon and an IV full of Demerol weigh against her and her young hormones steam out of control.

CONTENT WARNING

Themes of submission and subjugation, spanking sex, diaper play, humiliation, and non-private accidental genital stimulation.

Sorry, Rachelle.

CHAPTER 1 - HER HUMILIATING EXAM

Rachelle Williams drives her small open car through a soft Hawaiian night, heading up the H1 to the big hospital on Moanalua. She hunches over the steering wheel in pain. Pain in her tummy woke her after midnight. For a while it was not too bad, she'd lain there in the pool of moonlight across her bed, listening to the Koolau night sounds outside her bedroom and wondering what she could have eaten that made her sick. After sleeping fitfully for another hour, all she could think of were caring hands in the hospital emergency room. And the drugs.

Teeth clenched with pain, she watches her GPS for the turn. The long Tee she likes to sleep in covers her pink short-shorts. Her sun-bleached hair is a loose halo around her strained features.

She slides into an ER Patients Only space and hurries inside. The lobby is quiet, a few people hunch together waiting for their caregivers to appear.

"Severe abdominal pain," Rachelle tells the medical receptionist, handing over her ID cards. "Don't know of anything I ate that could cause it."

The receptionist checks her in and makes a call. "Just have a seat in booth three. A nurse will see you right away."

Rachelle finds the semi-private cubicle and sits. A surge of nausea hits her. What is it? She leans forward, arms around her belly. A large man in wrinkled scrubs takes the chair opposite and logs into the desk station. His voice is smooth and soft.

"Miss Williams, I am Johan. Can you tell me what is troubling you?"

Doubled over, Rachelle looks up at him. "Severe stomach cramps. Started three hours ago. Can't think of anything to cause it. Oww."

"Miss, your face is pale. We'll get you to a bed right away. Let me take your temperature." Rachelle accepts the small device inside her ear. It quickly beeps, the nurse makes notations on the computer.

"You have a degree and a half of fever. Come with me, I'll get Doctor Chen to look at you."

The man leads Rachelle through an automatic double door and through a long row of curtained exam cubicles, shiny linoleum under bright lights. A few are occupied, privacy curtains closed, hushed conversations from within. Johan leads Rachelle into a cubicle and closes the drapes around the bed. The metal rings make a melodic swish on the aluminum rod.

"Please take everything off and get under the sheet. Use the plastic bags for your things. Put on this green gown, it ties at the neck. If you're cold, ask for a blanket. The bathroom is to your left."

Johan leaves, the privacy drape slides closed. Rachelle watches his departing feet beneath the hem as he walks away. Sounds of two nurses at the duty station several beds away, others coming and going on the busy ward.

With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Rachelle places her purse in the bedside stand, kicks off her rubber thongs.

Holding the open-back gown before her, she works out how to keep her exposure to a minimum while putting it on. Rachelle has a mistrust of hospitals, of being seen in a bed, wearing a humiliating open-back gown. People just walk in whenever it suits them. On an ER visit when she was nine years old, she'd felt like just a thing to them.

She pulls the Tee over her head, her nipples harden in the cool air. Rachelle trembles. Quickly she ties the gown at her neck, slips willowy arms into the short floppy sleeves. The gown stops at mid-thigh. Most of her club skirts are longer. The green gown is completely open at the back.

Shorts and panties slide down her slim legs and she folds them into a bag with her purse. Cool hospital air raises goose-bumps on her curved fanny.

She swings her knees onto the high bed just as a matronly nurse in scrubs breezes through the drape with a pleasant smile. Rachelle is chagrined. The woman's eyes take in a flash of Rachelle's hairless crotch.

With a quick motion Rachelle covers her legs with the sheet. On the woman's green uniform top, Rachelle notices the name Reardon. The nurse uses a control to elevate the bed so Rachelle can sit comfortably.

"Blood pressure and temperature, dear," the big woman recites. She goes through the familiar motions, asks the same questions the admitting nurse had asked. But she has a different question.

"Anything pushed up from below?"

Face red, Rachelle can't even look at the big woman. "Of course not," she says tersely. Does she honestly think I'm playing with my rear end?

Rachelle has always avoided that area, is embarrassed when her boyfriends want to touch her there. And sex? Ugh. She is aware of her bare flesh beneath the stiff white sheet.

"Is the pain still present?"

"It comes and goes. Right now just an ache. Sometimes very strong."

The nurse makes notations on her tablet. "You just relax. Doctor Chen will be along. He's our best GI specialist."

"GI?"

"Gastro-intestinal."

"Mm." How very thrilling.

The nurse pushes through the privacy drape in a whisper of cloth, leaving a four-inch gap. Rachelle can see the entire row of beds and the large double door at the end. A nurse walks a patient unsteadily along the shiny floor. The old man's flabby buttocks are exposed in his open-backed gown. Rachelle shudders at the wretched image, averts her eyes. She tugs at the tucked-in sheet, attempting to draw it up past her waist.

Sharp pain rockets through her abdomen. Pressing both hands to her tummy she leans forward, unable to breathe. What is it? She gasps for air and tears form in her eyes. Her gown is open down her backside, baring her from slender neck to fleshy bottom.

The drape parts as a short man in a white lab coat eases in. He smiles cheerfully. "Hello Miss, I am Doctor Chen. We're going to see what is troubling you this morning."

Her mouth gapes open stupidly, she cannot speak.

"Are we having pain now?"

Rachelle nods, giving him the merest glance.

"Can we perhaps lie back?"

She shakes her head, does not lift her hands from her aching belly.

"Sometimes counter-pressure relieves pain."

She nods weakly, accepting his suggestion. Warm palms glide down her bare back, the open gown covers nothing. Chen pushes hard and the pain lessens. Rachelle takes a deep breath. The warm hands move downward and press again. Rachelle is aware of her breasts hanging free beneath the gown. Nipples brush thin fabric, she shivers. A warm touch above her kidneys. The pain is less. She trembles as his fingers graze a naked hip.

"Can we lie back now, Miss?"

Rachelle hesitantly straightens, she is able to recline. She looks at him with gratitude. "Better, thank you. That was harsh."

"Indeed. I'll call for a drip to control your pain."

The doctor steps through the drape. He speaks softly to a nurse outside who hurries off, then he's at her bedside again. The drape hangs open.

"I need to palpate your abdomen."

"Excuse me?" It sounds like something obscene. Palpate.

The doctor smiles easily. "If I can find where it hurts you, I can determine what is wrong."

Rachelle laughs nervously, mostly at herself. "Ah. Of course."

The doctor lifts the edge of the sheet, just a bit, gives her a raised-eyebrow glance, questioning. She nods, looks away blushing. This man is nice.

Chen pulls the sheet down, past the gown's hem. Rachelle tenses, the revealed inch of bare thigh sends a thrill of alarm through her. She glances with concern at the gap in the drape but is too timid to speak up. Please get this over with! I want to go home!

Chen places both hands on her shoulders, easing her into the pillow, massaging her neck muscles in a reassuring way, calming her as a skittish animal.

"Yes I know this is uncomfortable, Miss Williams, but we must examine you. Please relax and it will be over quickly."

The doctor's fingers move behind her neck, firmly kneading the stiff muscles there. Rachelle closes her eyes and exhales slowly.

"That's right, breathe deeply a few times. I will be brief."

Rachelle relaxes, although her abdomen twitches when his fingers alight near her belly button. The gown hides her, but she is aware of her fleshy waxed Vee beneath the thin fabric. Slowly the fingers move from place to place, probing for tenderness.

Rachelle tenses. "Not there! Please."

"I see. I am sorry, I need to probe that area. I'll be gentle."

She nods, face turned from him in shame. She has always been hyper-sensitive to a strange man's touch. New boyfriends - first times always drove her crazy with fear and apprehension. Maybe it will help if she focuses on something, like the metal chair in a corner of the small space. Fingers probe the spot lightly. She winces. The doctor starts with questions. What has she eaten? Drink anything? Any prescription drugs? Recreational drugs?

"When was your last bowel movement?"

Her face burns with shame. "In the morning."

"Time?"

"Before work. About seven." Not looking at him.

He consults his watch. "Three in the morning now, so twenty hours. I'll order an enema."

"Please no! I don't need an enema."

"Let's see if we can use the bathroom first, shall we?"

The fingers push just above her Venus mount. Her hips twitch.

"Sensitive there? Any pain?"

"No pain." She doesn't want to tell him what she felt, hopes he won't ask. It's been a week since her boyfriend went off-island and she's crazy horny. Or it's the full moon high in the west.

The doctor's hands move lower, questing fingers glide on either side of her feminine hump. The gown pulls tight over her clit ring. Rachelle's slit dampens and her face reddens with shame. Don't let him see! So used to wearing it, she had forgotten in the rush to get here. I should have taken it out!

He touches a sensitive spot. She cries out.

The nurse comes through the privacy curtain with a portable IV stand. Probes her wrist for a vein, gets the drip started. Rachelle relaxes on waves of bliss. The change allows her to focus on her dampening womanhood.

Always very sensitive to a strange touch on her belly, she has a mental picture of masturbating in the bathroom. She wonders why now, of all times, she is feeling horny. Whatever is in that IV drip provides a cushy place for her to close her eyes and relax. If these people would only leave me alone for ten minutes...

"Miss, we need you on your left side now. Doctor needs to examine you."

"Sure, whatever," Rachelle says. Her lips slur the words. Turning over, her head spins, she nearly rolls off the side of the bed. The nurse stops her. Rachelle giggles.

"Miss Williams, please raise your right knee as high as you can."

Lying on her side, Rachelle's move pulls the gown up and away from her lower body. She feels the cloth glide over her butt but is too distracted to care. The smooth curve of her luxurious behind tightens in the cool air.

Chen stands behind her. "Lift your knee a little higher please, Miss. Yes, there." The nurse places a strong hand beneath Rachelle's raised knee, presses it upward against her breast. "Want to make sure you don't fall off the bed," she smiles down at the woozy blonde. "Is the pain alright?"

Rachelle giggles. "Pain gone. Rachelle gone. Nobody 'ome." Chen and the nurse exchange a glance. Some patients are more susceptible to painkillers. They know they must be cautious with this one. Between them on the bed, Rachelle is stretched out on her side, left leg straight, right knee knifed upward, completely bare from neck to toes. She is unaware the drape is open a foot or more.

"I'm going to start the exam now," Chen says softly. The snap of latex gloves.

A warm hand on her bottom, tugging her buttocks apart. He is looking up my thingy! Rachelle giggles and starts to hum a tune. She is embarrassed but it does not seem to matter. Her butt cheek is lifted away from her crevice, exposing her anus and her coin purse.

"You'll feel something cool now."

A blop of cold goo lands on Rachelle's exposed anal pucker. Something presses up and in down there.

"Woooeeee-hooo!" Rachelle hoots. "What are we doing?" She tries to scoot forward but the nurse holds her jackknifed leg firmly.

"We must examine your rectal cavity."

She laughs, woozy with the painkiller. "Are you guys cops? Is this a cavity search?"

Chen laughs easily, taking it in stride. "Let's reduce your drip then, shall we?" The nurse reaches up to adjust the flow.

"Please hold still Miss Williams." Chen slides his bony middle finger into her tight anus until his other fingers press against her lower spine. Rachelle's soft rump eases back against the hard thing. Shocked at what she's just done, surprised it should feel good, her mother had always said... Well fuck you Mom, what do you know?

Rachelle's behind rotates a couple of times, but the drug haze is wearing off and she comes to her senses. Her neck reddens, she turns her face into the pillow with a surprised gasp that comes out like a sob. My god what are these people going to think of me?

"Higher," Doctor Chen directs the nurse.

This time it is not Rachelle but the nurse that lifts her knee. The big woman manages to raise it nearly to her forehead, doubling Rachelle's lithe torso and stretching her anal crevice.

"I need to examine the second sphincter, Miss," says Doctor Chen. "Can you push down like you are having a bowel movement?"

Rachelle's cheeks are hot with shame. They want me to shit on his finger. Then it strikes her as comical and she giggles like a six-year-old, imagining the doctor's finger coming out of her with a little turdlet balanced on the tip.

She does as she is told, grunting with the effort. The hard finger wiggles impossibly farther up her, massaging a hidden place she never knew she had. She gets a mental vision of going at her rear end with her favorite vibrator, and rotates her hips. She lets out a soft moan. She hopes fervently it was muffled in the pillow.

Chen quickly rotates his hand, sliding the finger all the way in again. Chen notices a rhythmic squeezing on his buried finger. His patient is trying to milk it. Unaware, face hidden in the pillow, Rachelle gasps. Chen's other fingers brush moist vaginal lips. She eases back against the contact, hoping it won't be noticed. It feels good. Somewhere in her drug-addled brain flashes a warning warning warning, but she is too uninhibited from the painkiller to process it.

"Alright, Miss Williams, you can relax now I am done." The doctor withdraws his finger gradually. In her drug haze Rachelle tries to follow the nice finger, but the nurse has her pinned in position. The finger exits. Rachelle farts.

"Oh I am so sorry!" Face hidden, tears of shame dampen her pillow.

"Perfectly understandable," Chen says jovially. "Not the most modest experience. Now let's roll on our back, shall we? Hmmm?" A snap of latex as Chen puts on fresh gloves.

Rachelle has no choice in the matter of her position on the bed. The nurse deftly lowers her knee, rotating Rachelle's hips and stretching both her legs out flat. The gown lies in a heap along Rachelle's side, one breast is bare and her entire stomach, hips and legs are exposed in the small space. She notices with chagrin a one-foot gap in the curtain. Rachelle gasps in embarrassment and pulls the pillow over her face, too stunned, and too submissive, to attempt to cover herself with the flimsy gown.

At this time both doctor and nurse get a full look at Rachelle's swanky womanhood. The nurse cannot suppress an intake of breath. The blond woman's sex is hairless. It is the softest double roll of sweet feminine curves imaginable, thick muscular lips pressed together in a prim girlish line. Animal lips made to massage a man's member into submission. The biggest shocker is the young woman's clit piercing. It is beautiful on its own, a Nefertiti, with an open, double-balled circular ring that pierces and surrounds her clitoral shaft. After having it placed, Rachelle found she could climax intensely on an exercise bike in the fitness center.

The doctor is not surprised. He had seen the ring's impression while covered by the gown. It is not the first genital piercing Chen has seen. There are more these days, among the younger women.

"Genital piercings are on the rise in women looking to stimulate the clitoris during sex," Chen says conversationally, not looking directly at Rachelle. "A relatively small number of women, less than one percent, have studs down below. I'm sure you have read that genital piercings can cause serious health complications, and are aware of the risks."

Rachelle peeks out from under the pillow for just one second.

"We may have to clean that," Chen continues. "While you're here I'll make sure there is no infection."

Oh my effing god. I am getting a piercing tune-up for my tummy ache!

"Now Miss Williams, we must do your enema. I'll leave you to Nurse Reardon for that."

Rachelle looks out from under the pillow. "Are we sure?"

Chen grins. "Yes we are sure. Please raise your knees to your chest."

"Could we close the drapes completely?"

"Modesty is soon forgotten with age," the nurse murmurs. Chen steps through the opening, pulls the drape closed as he leaves Rachelle alone with the big nurse.

Rachelle lifts her knees, gripping them with her arms. Her lovely curve of girl-cheeks and hips rises above the white sheet. The nurse rolls up a tall IV stand holding a bulging enema bag and dangling hose, with a fat nozzle at the end.

"You shouldn't need any more lube after what the doctor put inside you," the nurse chuckles. She secretly loves this part, especially with the more timid patients.

"Tell me about it," Rachelle says wryly. She realizes that the painkiller has stopped, but notes with relief that the IV needle remains stuck in her vein. There can be more!

"Hold still. If you need painkiller, I'll turn up the drip."

The big nurse is out of sight beneath Rachelle's raised legs, she can feel a latex-gloved hand opening her cheeks for a shot at her greasy starfish. A cold blunt shape contacts her defenseless bud. The pressure increases. Rachelle groans aloud as the object makes its way in. It starts to hurt, she grits her teeth and tears form in her eyes. She is just about to ask for painkiller when the round blub of it pops in and slides deliciously up her slippery rectum.

"Ooooh."

The nurse chuckles. "Feels good don't it?"

Rachelle is mortified at the rude comment. Not only was she unaware she had made any sound, but the nurse's inappropriate remark makes her feel cheap.

"That is the kind of thing gets people fired," Rachelle says angrily, under her breath.

The nurse scowls. "Ach, child, we don't want to be going all salty now, do we?"

"Just get it over with."

The nurse reaches out of Rachelle's vision and turns the drip completely off. She releases the clamp on the enema hose.

"Owwwww." Rachelle shouts. "No it hurts!"

"Shush, now," Big Nurse says softly. She pushes the fat probe hard up Rachelle's tender behind.

Rachelle is in more pain than she's ever felt. "Please turn on the drip!"

The nurse fakes a hand motion toward the IV bag. "I turned it up, you're ok."