sexamination (part three).

"Alright, Janet," the man in the lab coat says.  "If you'll lie back for me, and place your feet in the stirrups."

Both the doctor and his female assistant put on a new pair of latex gloves, as I swing my legs around, and lie back on the paper lined examining table.  I'm reluctant to just completely spread my legs for them, so I wait until they're in position.  They have gotten me quite wet with their previous tests, but I'm still nervous for the next part of the examination.  Nervous, and excited.  The purpose for these trials, as far as they've told me, if to test sexual limits.  So far, my jaw is a little sore, but other than that, they've kept me comfortable, as they promised.  The assistant wheels the table of instruments to my side, while the doctor pulls the hanging light into position above my waist, and turns it on.  It shines so brightly, that I have to squint.  Even though it's aimed directly at my genitals.

"If you please," he asks, gesturing to my legs.  I meekly put my feet in the provided stirrups, feeling very exposed.  I try to keep my knees together, but it's difficult in this position.  The man in the lab coat adjusts his glasses, spreads my knees with a gloved hand, and bends to peer at my spread pussy.  He waves the assistant over, and gestures towards me.  The woman takes a look, and jots down a few notes.  This time, I hear his hushed voice say, "engorged clitoris, swollen labia, overall reddening of the vulva..."  The woman glances up towards my chest, and adds something.

"There is some obvious hardening of the nipples."  She turns on a penlight, and looks into my eyes.  "Dilated pupils, flushed face."

"I'm noticing an excess in moisture, here, as well," he continues, peering at my open pussy.  He's right; I know it.  I can feel myself getting wet as they inspect my body.  I long for either of them to touch me; even if it's only for a moment.  To rearrange something, to test something, to take a sample, for any reason.  I picture the way they had that speculum in my mouth, and how the woman massaged my clit.  Wait, the speculum.  I think I can guess where this is going.  The muscles in my pussy tense, as if I'm already trying to grip into it.  "She's ready."

But, to my surprise, the assistant doesn't pick up the tool I expected.  The woman instead places a gloved hand on a large curved piece of polished, gleaming metal, with an enormous spherical head.  

"Again, just try to relax.  We realize that it might be difficult considering the environment, but we will do everything we can to make you as comfortable as possible," the man says, as the woman squirts a healthy dollop of lubricant on the large head of the apparatus.  At that moment, I realize that it's going inside me.  My jaw drops, staring at the instrument.  I've never had something that large inside me, in my entire life.  The woman positions herself below me, and I feel the bulbous head of the tool against my pussy.  It feels cool and slides over the outside of me nicely, but it's sure as hell not going inside any time soon.  I feel the giant thing press against me pleasurably, and I turn my hips into it, so that it's against my opening.  

"That's it," the man says, approaching.  "Nothing to be afraid of."  With that, he reaches a gloved hand over to my lubricated clit, and finds it with his finger.  Immediately, I feel my muscles twitch.  He feels up my engorged clit, rubbing his finger thoughtfully over it, again and again.  His free hand makes a note of my progress on the clipboard, and I feel myself wanting to please him.  Wanting to do well on the test.  The woman continues to push with the dildo-like object, and I feel my muscles reach out to her, trying to draw it in.  But, it's too big.  The man peeks around the appendage, adjusting the examination light, and taking a closer look at my progress.  He makes a "Hmm" sound.  Then continues to finger my clit.

"Good," he remarks.  "Just try to relax."  As the assistant continues to apply steady pressure on the apparatus, the man now switches hands, the lubricated fingers going to one of my nipples.  His other takes over on my rock hard clit, batting it rhythmically from side to side.  Surprisingly, he then leans over to the breast closest to him, and begins to lick its nipple.  With the other finger lubricated, it feels as if both nipples are in someone's mouth.  Yes!  I close my eyes now, muscles twitching, curling forward to match the pressure against my pussy.  I want it inside me, and thrust against it.  The man steadily works my clit, and both nipples, and I almost can't take it anymore.  I'm beside myself with desire, my pussy beginning to soak the paper beneath me. I see the woman trying to work the massive thing inside me, then it suddenly seems to break through, finally bypassing my narrow vaginal walls, and jutting deep into me.  

"Good," the man says, again.  "Very good, Janet."  I breathe a sigh of relief that it's in, and find it easy to bear down on it.  The head is so big, that it fills me completely, and my g-spot has nowhere to hide.  The man keeps stimulating me, while the woman begins to rock the appendage, so that the enormous head pushes against my special spot.  I can feel the familiar urge to pee, that a g-spot orgasm is accompanied by.  My hands grip the edges of the examining table.  Yes.  Yes, yes!  Almost...  

Then, they suddenly stop.  The man in the lab coat withdraws his hands and mouth from my nipples and clit, while the woman simultaneously takes her hands off the metal apparatus.  It hangs out of me, the handle hovering, sparkling in the intense examination light.  I realize I'm breathing heavily, and take a deep sigh to try and regulate it.  The man takes off his gloves, and bends to make a few notes.    

"Don't tense up, now," the woman says, as she angles the appendage for removal.  But, I can't help it.  My pussy grips onto it, wanting to keep it inside me, wanting so badly to come on its enormous head.  She struggles, and it finally pops out.  I gasp.  

"Alright, Janet," the man says, putting down the clipboard, and placing a bare hand on my shoulder. "You're doing very well."

"May we ask you to turn onto your stomach, for the final phase of testing?"

a forest fantasy (part three).

**This entry has been removed, due to impending publication with House of Erotica**

SPICY TEASER:


"Don't leave this time."
"I..."
"Don't leave," he insists, pulling me closer.  I want to stay, trust me; but I can't bear for him to see me like that.  Let alone, do what he has to do to break the spell.  But, with every kiss, he convinces me.  

a forest fantasy (part two).

**This entry has been removed, due to impending publication with House of Erotica**



SAUCY TEASER:

I wake up with the sun, gasping, as though waking up from a bad dream.  I anxiously whip the covers off, touching my own arms, legs, face.  Back to normal.  I exhale.  I open the door to my grandmother making breakfast.
"Owl's egg?"  She chirps.  I stare coldly at her back.  "What, still upset with me, child?  You shouldn't be.  Now, we can get your life back on track..."
"Grandma.  How do I break the curse?"
"That shouldn't concern you, right now.  Why don't you sit and enjoy..."
"How do I break the curse?"  I insist.  She finally turns to me.
"Fine.  Not that it matters.  By the sight of the moon, the elf boy would have to impregnate you."  Tears spring to my eyes, though I try to hold them back.
"Please.  Change me back."
"My decision is final, Wisteria.  And that's the last word on it.  Now, come eat your eggs."

a forest fantasy (part one).

**This entry has been removed, due to impending publication with House of Erotica**



SEXY TIDBIT:

"When you get old, your delicate nose will hook, your silky blonde hair with turn stiff as straw, and your porcelain skin will erupt with warts.  Just like mine!  Do you think that elf boy will love you then?  He'll be gone faster than I can produce a vanishing spell..."  She rattles off, voice as shaky as her arthritic hands.  

"Grandma!  You know that isn't true.  I've told you before..."

"You'll stop seeing this boy, understand?"  She says, waving her gnarled, yellowing finger in my face.  "And, you won't be sneaking out again, either.  I'm warning you!"

"Alright, alright," I answer, knowing full well my plans for tonight.   What's the worst thing that could happen?

undercover cop.

"You have to go in there," the Chief says, over the wail of blaring sirens.  Extra backup is being called.  It looks like things might get violent.

"I'm ready."  I say, also feeling that we need someone on the inside.  We need eyes.  And, not only that, but the perpetrator will not deal with our negotiator.  It has the potential to be a real publicity nightmare.  But hostage situations always are. 

"We need to swap you with a civilian," he continues.  "When he sends her out for food, you need to take her place."

"I understand."  Luckily, the perpetrator has covered most of their faces with duct tape.  From the online database, I'm a dead ringer for the bank manager.  And, he has chosen her as the liaison.  I've been trained to diffuse dangerous situations, but I'm not exactly a negotiator.  But, we can't waste this opportunity.  It may be our only chance to save the lives of these people, and apprehend the gunman. 

"You'll need to get changed quickly.  Tape your hands and mouth.  And, we'll get a wire on you, too.  Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."  I say, already removing my police cap, and following an assistant to the surveillance trailer.  I get fitted for a very small wire, but we can't risk a weapon.  We watch the main camera, holding our breath, and then, she emerges.  She jogs towards us, tears streaming down her face, with a police man on either side of her.  I greet her, and talk quickly.  The assistant removes the tape from her wrists and mouth, as I explain.

"Gina, you're safe, now.  You're not going back in there.  I know it's hard to ask of you right now, but we need you to remove your clothing, so that I can stand in your place.  Do you understand?"  She nods, mouth free of obstruction, but still unable to speak.  "Quickly, now."

I emerge from the trailer in a minute flat, and all eyes are on me.  I don't need to do much to fake the nervous energy required for this to be convincing.  I'm quickly escorted to the door, hands and mouth taped, the plastic bags filled with food draped over my bounded arms.  They open the door, and suddenly I'm on the inside.

I discreetly scan the dark room.  The blinds are drawn, eight frightened hostages, bound and sitting on the ground against the main counter.  The gunman stops his pacing, and greets me anxiously.  His eyes have trouble looking in one place for long, his hair is dishevelled, and his face is pockmarked.  He looks at me weirdly, and I get nervous, but then I realize that that's just the way he looks.  He pats me down with one hand, his other on the cocked gun.  He takes his time, spending time on my ass and breasts, which he gropes with his mouth hanging open.  When he appears to be done, I raise my arms to indicate the lunch bags, and he rips the tape from my mouth.  "What took so long?"

"They had to get the food from a trailer," I reply, cowering.

"Fucking cops.  Well, it's not exactly like we had a reservation!"  He jokes.  I fake a small laugh, but I manage to let my fear show through.  He looks at me a second, seeing it.  Then, immediately returns to his bravado.  "Fucking cops, am I right?"  The weary group nods.  "Let's eat!"  He gestures with his gun, for me to go to the group.  I help each civilian up, and remove the tape from their mouths and hands.  Five employees, and three customers.  Each employee's eyes bug out when they see my face up close.  I only realize now that they might be a liability, in knowing that I'm not their manager, Gina.

I hand out the sandwiches, one by one.  A young blonde woman, who we identified as Joyce Gaines, speaks to me in hushed tones.  "Are you... with the police?"  I don't respond, but I shake my head slightly, trying to tell her with my eyes to stop.  "You've got to do something.  Some of us have children."

"You!"  The gunman shouts, and my heart jumps in my chest.  "Sugar Tits!"  He gestures with his gun for me to come over, and I do.  The perpetrator pulls me aside.  "Listen," he says.  "You know I'm a good guy, right?"  I nod, relieved that he didn't see Joyce and I talking.  "I want this to end, just like you guys do."  I nod again.  I venture a response.

"So do the police."

"Hah!  The police.  They just want to fuck this up for me, you know?"

"Well.  Maybe.  But, I think they just want everyone to be safe, most of all."

"Everyone's safe.  You guys are doing great, right?  I got you food, didn't I?"  He says to the hostages.  They silently nod.

"Thank you for that.  It means a lot to me."  He looks at me a second, and I feel like we connect.

I don't have a plan yet, but I know that I have to form a relationship with him to execute it.  Lucky, Gina did most of the work for me.  He seems to trust her, already. 

"Alright, everyone! Dinner break's over.  You!  Sweet Cheeks," he says to me.  "Get everyone taped back up."  I grab the roll of duct tape, and carefully re-apply it to everyone's mouths and hands.  He gunman paces, hand on the trigger.  The employees look at me as if they have something to say, but they can't articulate it fast enough.  One by one, I lay it across their trembling lips, and swallow the emotions bubbling up inside of me.

"We've got to get out of here," the same blonde woman pleads before I tape her, and I shoot daggers with my eyes to shut up.  She's going to blow my cover.  And then, all our lives are in danger.  The last thing we need is a problem that will escalate the situation.  I bring the roll to the perpetrator, and he tapes my hands together, in front of me.  Thankfully, he leaves my mouth.  It's my only weapon, at this point.

"Everybody good?"  He asks, sitting on the counter.

"Yes.  They're all very grateful, I'm sure.  Just too scared to say so.  Especially the women."

"Haha, well!  Nothing to be scared of, here," he says, patting my back.  "Except me, of course," he flirts, looking me up and down.  I just eye the gun in his lap, finger still on the trigger.  "The only thing we have to really worry about is who's out there," he continues enthusiastically, pointing towards the window.  I nod.

"They'd probably leave you alone if you gave up the hostages," I try.

"And then they'd come in and shoot me up!  Fuck that."

"Not unless you threatened harm to anyone."

"They're threatening to harm me!!  Fuck 'em.  Fuck all of them," he grumbles, standing and walking away.  He immediately starts pacing again, and some of the women shift out of his way.

I weigh my options.  He doesn't seem to want to talk.  I could try and disarm him, but he keeps an awfully tight grip on that gun, and I'm not completely confident I could overpower him, if it came to a struggle.  Especially with my hands taped.  He would have to be in a pretty relaxed state, though, to be able to grab it right from under him.  If I could distract him long enough, kept him in another room, perhaps; the team could potentially evacuate the hostages completely.  Even more risky.  He likes Gina.  I have to work that somehow.  I think of the way he looked at me, stroking his gun like a phallus.  I gulp, realizing what I might have to do.  

I wait a couple hours through stone silence, other than the perpetrator rambling to himself.  With him not speaking to the police, it's a total stalemate.  They're all depending on me, at this point.  "Any chance we could get a washroom break?"

"What?  Oh, I guess."

"I can take the ladies," I offer.  He considers it.  This whole operation is a joke, with only one gunman.  All of us having to be under his watch the whole time.  He has to trust me, if he wants this to go on any longer.  He suddenly looks me dead in the eyes, backs me against the counter, and raises his gun to my throat.  Two of the women gasp.  

"You better not try anything, Hot Ass.  Understand?"  I nod.  "Good," he breathes, but doesn't back down.  The gun's barrel moves down my shirt, in between my breasts, to one of my nipples.  "Bang!"  He suddenly yells, then breaks out laughing.  I catch my breath, then help the ladies up, one by one.

"What are you going to do?"  One of them hisses, when we get to the bathroom. 

"What do any of us do?"

"She's a cop, lady!  And I mean, when the hell...!"

"You are?"

"Do you have a gun?"

"So, what's the plan?"

"I..."  They begin to get louder, chirping about this newfound information.  Unfortunately, all the bank's customers were women, so now all eight hostages are aware of my identity.  This is a huge liability, and I've got to do something fast, before my cover is blown.  "Quiet!!" I wave my bound hands frantically, whisper yelling.  "You all need to be patient.  These things aren't resolved easily.  Everything will be okay.  I promise.  You just have to trust me."  

Night falls, and the hostages are beginning to fall asleep, snoring through their noses.  Perhaps the knowledge of my identity relaxed some of them.  The only thing keeping anyone awake is the perpetrator's frantic pacing, so I softly call out.  "Maybe you'd like to sit down," I offer, gesturing to the counter beside me.  My hands are still tied in front of me. "You've had a long day." 

"Huh?  Yeah, I guess," he says, sitting.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he insinuates, laughing at his joke.  I throw on my most genuine smile.  It's now or never.

"You know, I've noticed you looking at me."

"Haha.  Really..."

"Yeah.  And... I've been thinking about it."

"Thinking about what?"

"You."

"Really.  And what do you think?"

"I think... that maybe we could go to the next room..."  Practically drooling, he has to bring himself back to reality for a minute.  But, he's just unhinged enough that I think I can convince him.  

"But, what about...?"

"Everyone's sleeping.  They'll never even notice we're gone."  He sits there, tapping his finger uncontrollably on the trigger of the gun.  He clearly has some anxiety he needs to relieve.  "I'll be real quiet," I add.  He raises him eyebrows, suggestively.  Come on.  Come on, buddy.  He inspects the hostages for a moment more, and thankfully, no one even stirs.  

"Alright, Peaches.  But, we'll have to be quick."  

We sneak into Gina's office, not far away from the group, and I hope that my peers on surveillance are ready.  The gunman leaves the door open slightly, and it makes me nervous.  How long can I keep him distracted?  And to what end?  I wish so badly that I had an open line of communication with the force.  I position myself so that I'm against Gina's desk, facing the front windows.  

"I knew you wanted it," he snickers, bringing me out of my head.    

"Yeah?  I was hoping you'd notice."

"I saw the way you were checking out my package."  His gun.  When I was looking at his gun.  His hand is still on it, even now.

"Mmm, yeah.  I was wondering what you were packing down there," I flirt.  My bound hands grab the front of his shirt, bringing him close.  "Any chance you can untie my these?  I might need my hands, if you know what I mean..."

"Not a chance, Girl.  Besides, I like you this way," he says, lifting up my skirt.  I swallow and look away, as he ogles my pussy.  He could almost burn a hole through the front of my underwear, he's looking so hard.  The buckle of his belt jingles, as something catches my eye outside.  The team.  Yes!  I see them crouching, gathering around the door, silently signalling to each other.  Now more than ever, it's important for me to keep the perpetrator distracted.  And to try to snag the gun.

"Do you like what you see?"  I say, sexily.  

"Oh yeah, baby.  I've been checking out that fine ass since you walked in here."

"Mmm, really?"

"Bend over, and show it to me."  I turn around, and place my elbows on the desk.  The only thing I don't like, is that I can't see the front door anymore.  I peek over my shoulder, but I can't see anything now that I'm bent over.  "Show me that ass," he says, sleazily.  He then surprises me, by ripping down my underwear.  My bare ass is exposed now, and I'm thankful that my team doesn't have cameras in here, after all.  I take a peek at the gun, which he still grips on to.  I'm hoping he puts it down when he undoes his pants.  

Suddenly, he smacks my ass.  I groan sexily, keeping my eye on the front door.  I think I see it open, and I close my eyes in thanks.  I wiggle my hips suggestively, as if I can't wait, and I hear a zip.  My eyes dart to the gun, still in his hands.  Then, I feel his dick.  Probing my opening, trying to find wetness where there is none.  He thrusts his hips forward a bit, his dick pushing against my pussy, but it won't go.  He leans forward, the hand with the gun on the desk, now.  His weight in the hand, but the gun still beneath it.  Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement.  People exiting the building?  Please, please hurry.

"Give it to me, big boy," I taunt, frightened that he might turn before they finish evacuating.  I pour it on thick.  "Give me the big cock I've been staring at all day."  I feel the head push against me again, and I tilt my hips to help maneuver it in.  I want to reach between my legs to spread myself, but the tape around my wrists prevents me.  His erection kind of pops in, past the opening, then my natural moisture helps lubricate it. 

"Mmm, you are wet, aren't you?  I knew it."

"Oh yeah.  Of course I am, baby."  I glance back, and all I see is the tops of heads.  The gunman starts thrusting, groaning, slobbering, bent over me, and I can feel his dirty dick moving in and out of my pussy.  

"You did want it, didn't you?  You fucking slut.  You got just want you fucking wanted, didn't you?"

"Oh yeah.  Give it to me."

"I could tell when I saw you.  That you had a hungry.  Fucking.  Cunt."  He punctuates each word with a hard thrust, pushing his weight harder onto my back, bending me further, splaying me out on the desk.  I can't see anything now.  My face is pressed completely against the wood of the desk, with him huffing, heaving on top of me.  He whispers, spitting, into my ear, as he fucks.  "I could tell when you first came in with dinner."

Wait.  Dinner.  I first came in with dinner, but Gina...

"I could tell when you looked at me, that we had an instant connection..."

Gina was here all day.  He knows I'm not Gina.  Then...

"You really look like her.  You really do.  But, I know Gina a little better than you think."

He knows I'm a cop.  He fucking knows.  The bastard.

"But, I have to tell you.  You're a much better lay," he whispers.  At that, I smash the back of my skull against his forehead, and standing, give him a fierce elbow in the stomach.  But, when he straightens, he's still got the gun.  And, he points it at me, holding his pants up with the other hand.  With my wrists bound, and my underwear around my thighs, I don't stand much of a chance.  I'm so angry, that I feel myself begin to shake.  I don't know what comes over me, but I let out a scream, lunge towards him, and raise my fists like a club.  

A shot.  I hold my breath, close my eyes, stopped in my tracks, but feel no pain.  I look up to see the gunman stiffen, then fall to his knees.  Blood suddenly pours from a small hole in his chest, then he falls completely forward on the ground, the gun bouncing away from him.  I look up to see three of my peers, guns raised.  I breathe out.  Someone comes with a blanket.

"Did you get her?"

"Gina?  No.  She was long gone.  But there are alerts out everywhere for her," the Chief replies.   

"Good." I rock in my office chair.  An awkward silence follows.  The gunman's inside woman.  How he was able to do it alone.  We ruined their entire plan, by a complete coincidence.  

"You saved eight civilians.  That's nothing to be upset about."

"Yeah," I say, offhandedly.  

"And, we got our man."

"Yes.  We did."

"Congratulations, officer."

"Thank you, sir."  

I turn my attention back to my paperwork, where I need to relay every last detail.