Rachelle's Midnight Treatment Pt. 02

CHAPTER 2 - EMBARRASSING PUBLIC EXPOSURE

Behind the closed drape, nurse Nadine helps Rachelle into the bed, reconnects the Demerol drip. Big Nurse is nowhere to be seen.

Rachelle is blissfully woozy, wishes everyone would leave so she could have another go at herself. The clit ring is pinching her, but does not hurt. The throbbing sensation it sends her is quite the opposite of pain.

Doctor Chen orders nurse Nadine to report to the Imaging Theater with Doctor Chow. The dark-haired woman hurries off, a fond backward glance at Rachelle on the white bed. The young patient's sungold hair is wild on the pillow.

"An orderly will transport you to the procedure room," Doctor Chen tells his patient. "We're giving you an upper GI, which will show us images of your intestinal tract. We'll be able to see what is bothering you. Best of luck, Miss Williams."

Chen exits, leaving the drape wide open. Moments later, a tall unshaven orderly with the name Nappo on his pocket wheels a gurney alongside Rachelle's bed. He places her bag of belongings on a lower shelf. She looks up at him. He has a disheveled appearance. Her instant name for him is Lurch.

"Pull you across now."

The large man of few words and crooked teeth reaches over the gurney and slides a hand beneath Rachelle's back. His hand goes inside the open-backed gown and the girl cringes at his touch. His other arm snakes beneath her soft legs, lifts her easily, jackknifing her knees. The loose gown slides to her lap, her butt hangs out in the breeze, clearly visible to an old man down the ward hobbling for the toilet. Too fucking bad the guy is blind, he could have had a stroke on the spot, gone out happy.

Rachelle moves to cover herself, but Lurch drags her bottom across the bed and onto the gurney, lays her out. The dangling IV bag he transfers to a hook on the gurney.

The Demerol drip insulates her in blissful calm. She rolls on her side, not noticing that the gown slides into her lap and the sheet down her hip, exposing a svelte feminine bootie to Lurch's view.

Lurch has heard tell of this troublesome patient. She'd reacted strangely during the exam. But she is lovely, loopy, and damn near naked on his gurney.

Although it's far outside his job description, Lurch turns up her drip. All that concerns him is keeping the lovely patient helpless. On waves of bliss, Rachelle sighs and snuggles into the bed. Lurch cannot take his eyes from her rump. But this is too public. He carefully arranges the sheet so she is more properly covered, and plans a different route to the surgery room. Longer, less-travelled. Darker corridors with no busybody prying eyes.

A quick glance through the drape. No one nearby on the ward for the moment. He pushes the gurney toward the ambulance entrance. In seconds he and his doped-up package are through the double doors and into a darkened corridor. Here, a construction project is underway, there are obstacles, dust and detours. An open doorway to a dark loading ramp reveals the baleful eye of a full October moon.

Lurch pulls Rachelle's sheet aside, exposing her smooth flank from toes to ribcage. The moon's malevolent light strokes her helpless butt. Holy mother of fuck! His mind whirls, trying to think of a place where he can have five minutes alone with this delirious nude goddess. Rachelle is off somewhere in sweet dreams, wafted along by her recent orgasm. Her hand vaguely seeks her crotch, but she is not compos-mentis enough to stroke herself. She dreams of the waterfall, the beautiful forest princess.

Lurch is amazed. He stops the gurney in a dim corner, leans down to peer at Rachelle's bare bottom. Between her pressed thighs, he sees slim fingers resting on her most intimate parts. I could fuck this ho right now!

He hurries toward the elevator, calculating his odds of being alone with her on the ride up to floor six. The door slides open and all looks good, he's got her in the car and the door is closing, but a hand shoots into the gap and the door obediently opens. Two men in yellow vests and hard-hats, tool belts dangling with all manner of heavy clunking objects, step into the car.

"Hey Boyo, hope ya don't mind. Gotta head up to Five."

Lurch can scarcely control his frustration. The two men eye the naked curves on the gurney, and go completely quiet. The ride in the cramped elevator is a strained one, the workmen trying to ogle lovely Rachelle's golden body, and Lurch staring pitchforks, willing them to fucking vanish. No one in the elevator gets their way. This stiff but lifelike tableau holds steady until the car stops and the men step out.

Through the closing doors, Lurch can hear their release of laughter in the corridor, "Hey were those the golden globes or what?"

Lurch eyes his prize. Only one floor to ride, but he will be alone with her! But again fate plays a hand, as into the car steps Medical Technician Jakko, an older dude with a scraggly gray beard and light blue scrubs. Rumor is he wears no underwear.

Jakko pushes the floor button and leans against the wall. He eyes Lurch, then his gaze takes in the uncovered rear end of unconscious Rachelle. He steps close to Lurch and hisses in his ear.

"You are in charge of this patient and by god you will see to her privacy or you'll be on report!"

Not waiting for a response, Jakko steps behind Rachelle and pulls the sheet across to cover her, tucking it firmly under the thin mattress. He stands rigid as a Buckingham Palace guard until the doors slide back. Lurch waits for Jakko to exit the car, but the old man does not move, only glares back. Finally Lurch puts the gurney into motion, turning right into a quiet part of the wing.

"Where are you taking her," Jakko calls out acidly.

Lurch looks back. How he would like to twist that old fart's scrawny neck! "Theater C, they said."

"It's this way, you moron. Follow me."

Jakko starts off at a brisk pace, glancing back at unwilling Lurch and his sleeping passenger. Jakko stops outside an open door. The dim room inside is large, the walls cannot be seen from the doorway. The old med tech looks on as Lurch pushes the gurney inside.

A nurse rushes up. "It took you long enough! There are four of us waiting. That will be all." She makes a shooing motion at him. The nurse guides the gurney toward the only spot of light in the darkened room, near a cart of instruments and glowing monitors.

Lurch turns and walks out, adjusting his aim to push hard into Jakko's shoulder. Jakko runs after him, faces the taller man with an angry glare. "Why were those workmen laughing when they stepped out of the car?"

Just after the two are out of sight, a nurse's angry yell in the Imaging Theatre. "Hey, why is patient's drip turned all the way up? What are they doing down there in ER?"

Muffled chatter between the nurses as one of them turns off the flow. "We can get her onto the exam table without embarrassing her at least."

The exam table is glass, with a smooth raised lip. Although it is cool, Rachelle feels small and helpless as three nurses alley-oop her off the gurney and center her on the glass surface. They straighten the gown and cover her with a thin blanket. The room is dark and cavernous, a concrete floor with drains, a glass-walled booth in one corner where two nurses work with electronic equipment. Soft light from computer monitors lights their faces. The two nurses with Rachelle busy themselves turning on the ultrasound equipment and readying the barium enema.

Rachelle moans sleepily, stretching on the wide table. Her eyes open, all she sees is dark ceiling. A nurse speaks to her.

"Miss Williams, we are going to do an upper GI exam on you. We'll use ultrasound and a barium enema."

Rachelle groans at the idea of another enema nozzle shoved up her behind. And this time there will be four or five people hanging around! Yuck. She already aches down there. She looks around the large dimly-lit space for an exit.

"Doctor will be able to determine why you are feeling pain in your abdomen."

Ah, yes, Rachelle thinks, that's why I came here. What she can recall of her adventure has been anything but a solution to her complaint.

Nurse Nadine is there, holds a long hard nozzle in Rachelle's gaze. The nozzle has a bulge at either end.

"This is an inflatable nozzle. It goes inside you. It inflates behind your sphincters so there can be no leakage. Is it alright if we go ahead?" Nadine's eyes are somewhat wild thinking of what she's about to do.

Rachelle makes a face at the long evil thing. It all seems so inevitable. "I guess we should get it over with."

"Fine. We're going to start you on some painkiller. Tell us if you need more." Nurse Nadine adjusts the IV drip into Rachelle's veins.

"Alright Miss, we're going to roll you on your left side to start this. You just relax, we'll move you."

Three of the nurses surround the blond woman, lifting her right knee across her body and positioning it at hip level. She rests on her side. They adjust the gown and cover her with the blanket.

"We have to uncover your bottom to work on you," Nadine tells her. "Will that be alright?"

Rachelle drifts on friendly waves of pain drugs. "Oh yes my bottom should definitely be uncovered." She's trying to be sarcastic but her slurred speech makes it comical. The nurses exchange a glance.

"You'll feel a cold touch on your anus now."

Lifting the gown and blanket to Rachelle's waist, a nurse places latex-gloved hands on Rachelle's comely rump. A spotlight illuminates the area. Warm gloved hands hold the soft cheeks open, exposing the innocent anus and the pursed, prim lips. Nurse Nadine's gloved hands swoop in, a glob of jelly on one finger. The finger smears slimy goo around Rachelle's anus until it glistens in the bright light. Nadine slowly plunges a finger into Rachelle's rectum, smearing the goo inside the soft depths. The patient's internal heat warms Nadine's finger. She trembles with anticipation.

Nadine holds the long nozzle, coated with shiny lubricant. She presses it firmly to Rachelle's anal pucker, it glides upward easily. Experienced hands push the nine-inch rump rocket smoothly upward until the last rounded bump vanishes from view. Nadine gives Rachelle's comely bottom a little love-pat. The thick black hose protrudes awkwardly from the patient's rear cleavage.

"Ooooh that's nice," Rachelle mumbles. She knows she was thinking that, but is unaware she spoke aloud. Nurse Nadine giggles. The others shoot her a hard glance.

"Is that alright, Miss?"

"Rachelle wriggles her rump. "Oh most definitely."

The nurses are grinning behind their masks. "You are having a reaction to the painkiller. Try not to talk," one of them advises.

"Okeydokey nursie." Not used to having things shoved up her hind end, unfamiliar with the effects of the drug cocktail in her veins, Rachelle loses all inhibition. Privately she dreams of locking herself in the bathroom and frigging herself until she explodes. Wait. Didn't she do that before? Maybe she only dreamed it. She tries to slide a hand to her crotch but gloved hands hold her fast to the table.

"We're going to inflate the nozzle now. Please tell us if you experience any pain."

A small pump starts beneath the table. Bump-bump-bump-bump-bump. The pulses vibrate through her abdomen. Inside Rachelle's tender rectum, the long probe widens, firm balloons inflate at either end. One expands above her second sphincter, the other in her greased rectum, plugging her anus. The sensation is too erotic to resist.

Plugged obscenely from behind, she rotates her hips. She catches Nadine's eye, wishes it was just the two of them so she could get off again.

"Woooo-eeeee," is all Rachelle can manage.

"Any pain Miss?"

"Just keep 'er coming," the blond woman on the table mumbles. The pump stops. Rachelle thinks her hind end has been stuffed with a Thanksgiving turkey.

"We're going to inject the imaging solution now. It will help Doctor examine you."

Rachelle for once keeps her mouth shut. A nurse starts the flow into the girl's plugged hole. "Don't worry about holding this in," Nadine tells her. "The nozzle will take care of that."

In a few minutes Rachelle's abdomen is distended with the pressure of several quarts of fluid. "Owie-ow," she says.

"Where does that hurt? Can you point to it?"

Rachelle clumsily rolls onto her back, she is uncovered from the waist down. Spreads her knees wide. The move reveals her waxed womanhood in the spotlight from above, the swollen clitoris and sparkling clit ring. She presses lightly on a spot below her navel. Her abdomen is rounded and tight as a drum. "Here's my owie."

"Alright Miss, I turned up your drip. We're going to apply ultrasound gel on your tummy. This will make it easier for doctor to view your large intestine."

Nadine's gloved hand dips into a tub of clear gel, spreads it liberally over Rachelle's exposed belly. Rachelle thinks she is getting a massage. The pretty nurse works from Rachelle's deep navel to both hip blades, then down toward the crotch. The third nurse walks away to the glass booth. Appling the gel, Nurse Nadine glances at her companion with a wink, extends her middle finger in the international "fuck" sign, and gestures at Rachelle's open crotch. The other one giggles and punches Nadine's shoulder.

"You little lez. We could get in trouble. What if they're recording?"

"For Screw Tube?" The two cannot entirely suppress their giggles.

Doctor Chow, a short dark Chinese, appears beside them, sees that all is in readiness, and picks up the ultrasound head, places it in the middle of Rachelle's soft belly. His other hand adjusts the screen which soon reveals an image of Rachelle's inflated intestines, twisting over one another like giant segmented worms on the monitor. Rachelle turns her head to look, realizing that is her interior, thinking, everything about me has been public, why not that? She notices her position, on her back with one knee flopped out, but it doesn't matter. She raptly follows the image of her inflated gut on the video display.

Doctor Chow glides the probe smoothly here and there on her belly, plotting a random course through the thick slippery gel. Rachelle enjoys it. She's had oil massages before, and this is just like that. Although then it was with a masseuse and she was draped. Unlike here, with five people in the room handling her like a beached dolphin and looking up her twat. Twat. The word amuses her and she giggles like a six-year-old.

The doctor finishes, asks if the recording is successful, sees an affirmative wave from the women in the control booth. He leaves. The nurses straighten Rachelle's legs and cover her.

"All done, my dear. You did beautifully. We'll let the fluid out now and remove the nozzle, then you can get dressed. You'll see Doctor Chen in ER."

"Yippee-yay." Rachelle longs to pinch her clitoris hard. Wants to be alone with it! She is ready to explode from the touching, probing, stroking, exposure and her lewd position on the table, the spooky dark room. There could be dozens of people here, out of sight in the dark! The idea makes her shiver.

Tuggings and pullings on the thing in her butt. Pressure in her tummy releases as the fluid drains out, but the nozzle remains as hard as a baseball bat.

"Darn," a voice whispers. More bumping and tugging, lewdly stimulating Rachelle's invaded hole. The lovely girl spreads her knees and rotates her fanny beneath the blanket. The movements goose her deeply, privately. She giggles.

The nurses consult. "Miss, we can't get the nozzle to deflate," Nadine says. "We're going to ask the Med Tech." She picks up her phone.

"Hi Jakko, we have a rectal nozzle here that will not go down. We push the release but it won't deflate."

Faint talking from the other end as the nurse listens. "The model number? Where is that? Okay hang on." She puts the phone down.

"He says it should be a four-letter code, printed on the lower balloon. We need to get her legs up."

Two nurses join the first, on either side of Rachelle's hips. Each lifts a leg up and back toward her shoulders. Nurse Nadine bends between the girl's thighs with a small silver flashlight. Nadine wishes she could plant her mouth on Rachelle's lovely clit and suck for the rest of the shift. Rachelle feels a finger gliding around her stretched anus, poking at the fat inflated balloon just inside.

"I see letters, but they are faded. Looks like L-L-R-something. Can't read it." There is more of this back and forth, and finally Jakko on the other end clearly says, "Alright I'll come take a look. You say it's inflated inside a patient?"

"That's right. We finished her procedure. Please hurry." She ends the call. The nurses lower Rachelle's legs to the table.

Unknown to them, Rachelle's rectal muscles are performing a secret mambo massage on the inflated spheres, finding sweet spots she's never known before. She watches Nadine's pretty face as hidden muscles suck the prod deeper. The drip has been removed from her arm and she's beginning to realize her predicament. A permanent butt plug. She's never had one in her, but the idea makes her giggle. Several boyfriends had suggested rectal sex play, but she had refused.

"Can I take it home, then?"

The nurses chuckle at Rachelle's wisecrack. Jakko, the Med Tech walks in. "Can you guys let me have a look?"

"Miss Williams, this is Mr. Jakko, our medical technician. There is something wrong with your nozzle. He is here to deflate it. Do you mind if he takes a quick look?"

"Everybody else has. Tell him to take a number." Rachelle's remark is part sarcasm, part resignation.

"That's the spirit," Nurse Nadine says brightly. Her eyes glow. She can't take her eyes off Rachelle's smooth face.

Again, two of the nurses lift Rachelle's legs up, bending her knees. The gown and sheet fall away. Frank Jakko finds himself close-up and personal with the prettiest snatch he's ever laid eyes on. Beneath the loose scrubs, his turgid meat grows heavy. It takes him a second to pull his eyes off the shiny lubricated belly, the sweet clit entrapped in the piercing hardware, the drooling open vaginal lips. Good god, I would fuck her right now if these other twats would disappear.

Jakko bends closer to the faulty butt nozzle. He inhales Rachelle's sweet woman scent. Forcing himself to think, he pulls on the tube, hoping to reveal the model number.

"I have to glove up," he says. A nurse offers him a pair of latex gloves, which he snaps over his hands. The small gloves stretch sausage-tight on his large fingers. He probes the black thing in Rachelle's plugged opening.

"Can you get her legs higher? I can almost see it."

The nurses raise Rachelle's golden thighs still higher.

"More," says Jakko, "all the way over. Spread her apart." His face is inches from Rachelle's split crotch. "I need a light here. My shadow."

A nurse hands him the long silver flashlight, which he grips in his teeth.

"Miss, we need to bend you up farther, is that alright?"

Rachelle is aware that there is an unshaven man in scrubs leaning over her, right between her legs. She cringes in embarrassment. A janitor? As if this insane night were not enough, now they are asking her if they can bend her open like a pretzel.

"Just hurry," Rachelle says coldly.

The nurses jackknife Rachelle's legs until they press her shoulders. The tender goddess can't see what is going on, but her bottom points at the dark ceiling. Jakko's face looms over her spread crotch like it's his dinner plate. Gripping the silver flashlight in his teeth, Jakko's nostrils flame with the funky girl aromas wafting from the hot and helpless flesh. His erect dingdong leaves a dark spot on his scrub pants. Nurse Nadine sees, and shivers in disgust. The rumors about this old fart are true.