Chapter 7 The Entitlement of Man #3
He stripped off his glove, but not before touching her one last time. Then he moved to the bin and tossed the latex away.
“You did great, Daisy. Before we do the contraceptive injection, I’ll need a quick urine sample. Bathroom’s through that door. Cups are on the counter. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
He gathered the blood samples and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Daisy sat up so fast she nearly fell off the table. Her hands shook as she shouldered into the gown so forcefully that the paper seams tore. Her body trembled as she stood, the ghost of his touch still lingering between her legs.
Was that normal? How the hell was she going to make it through this weekend if she couldn’t handle a medical exam?
Her gaze darted to the file on the counter marked 1922.
She flipped open the file, scanning quickly over the typed font to the doctor’s scribbled notes.
Aesthetically striking. Startles easily. Obedient. Subtle scarring on left kneecap. Submissive tendencies. Virgin Level II.
What the hell was a level two virgin?
Knowing she didn’t have much time, she focused on the terms she understood.
Avoids eye contact. Non-disruptive. Positive response to authority. Mother deceased—resistance trigger. Low risk.
Her head jerked at the muffled approach of footsteps in the hall. Shutting the file, she snatched the plastic cup off the counter and rushed into the bathroom. Corpse pale under fluorescent lights.
“Get it together,” she ordered her reflection, tucking a strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear, the root damp with sweat.
He was right. She was too thin. Her sharp, gaunt cheekbones stood out prominently beneath her haunted stare. Her freckles showed like rust spots on her ivory skin.
Her gaze turned away, dropping to the floor. She wasn’t used to being seen this way—by men. She didn’t like…the inescapable awareness it bred as she became self-conscious of every flaw.
Moving to the toilet, she uncapped the sample cup, but when she tried to pee, her body wouldn’t cooperate, too tense to perform even a basic function.
“Come on…” She took a few slow, deep breaths.
Eventually, through sheer force of will, she managed a small trickle. Enough to fill the bottom of the cup. She capped the warm sample and washed her hands.
When she emerged, Dr. Tannh?user was waiting.
“Excellent.” He took the sample and set it aside. “Just a few more things and then you can go.” When he waved her back to the table, she hesitated.
“We’re not done?”
“Not yet.” His voice was soft, almost tender. “I need to examine your abdomen.” He patted the table as if calling a dog. “Up you go.”
She reluctantly climbed up and sat on the edge. Clutching her wrist and holding her back for support, he eased her back.
“Just relax.”
She was really getting tired of being told to relax.
He set her arms at her side and opened her gown, smoothing out the paper to fully expose her. His hands, once again covered in gloves, moved over her front. Fingers pressed into her stomach, prodding and poking, but not causing any pain.
“Good. You can sit up.”
She pulled the gown closed and awkwardly sat up.
He removed a tongue depressor from the jar on the counter and held it up. “Open wide.”
Her jaw unclenched as her lips slightly parted.
“Wider,” he said slowly, dragging out the word.
She stretched her jaw.
“Wider,” he repeated in the same teasing tone, pressing the flat wooden stick onto her tongue. He lifted a small light to look inside her mouth. “Say Ah.”
“Ahhh.”
“Good girl.” He set down the light and examined her glands, pressing his fingers to the sides of her throat, then finishing with a soft stroke down her larynx. “Stick out your tongue for me.” He made a small purr of praise, cupping her jaw and tilting her head back. “Is that a new filling I see?”
“Uh-hu—gnhg—”
“You don’t like that?” he laughed, withdrawing his finger from her mouth.
She frowned, certain it wasn’t normal for a doctor to stick his fingers in a patient’s mouth without warning.
He made a note in her file. “You have an overactive gag reflex. Nothing that’s a concern, just something to note.”
The blood rushed from her face as she thought about why that information might be relevant in her file.
He turned and cocked his head. His presence became a unique sort of violation, his stare all too penetrating. His unnaturally blue eyes dilated, and her spine rounded, her shoulders lifting to her ears.
He returned to the table. “I just need to examine your lymph nodes for any swelling, and then you can be on your way.” When he reached for her gown, her hands tightened into fists, holding it closed. “We talked about this, Daisy. I can’t send you off until you’ve completed the examination.”
“I thought…”
“The female body is a complex study.” He pried open her fingers and parted the gown. He lifted her right arm and gently probed the tender tissue beneath it. “Knees open.”
Her feet dangled off the edge of the table, no longer in the stirrups. He guided them wider, so he could stand between her thighs, his fingers squeezing experimentally as they worked closer to her pelvis.
“There’s no need to be tense,” he murmured, voice low. “I’ve done this hundreds of times.” He pressed over the glands by her groin. “Look at me.”
She did so without understanding why. “Doctor—”
“Shh… We’re almost done.” He dragged his knuckle over the soft patch of hair. “Keep your eyes on me.”
Her knees reflexively tried to lock, but his hips blocked her from closing her legs, inadvertently touching him.
The corner of his mouth hooked into a grin. “You’re okay.”
“I…” She shook her head as words locked in her throat.
“No penetration,” he whispered, massaging around her sex.
Her body betrayed her, slickening in ways she couldn’t control. Clenching. Pulsing. She squeezed her eyes shut in mortification.
“Your body responds naturally, Daisy. There’s no reason to feel ashamed of that.” His finger curled inside, and she gasped. Her hips jerked involuntarily. “Shh, shh, shh, shh. Why don’t you make it easier and lie back?”
A sound escaped her throat—not a word, not a scream, just a small broken noise as he once more eased her down on the paper cloth. His finger swirled and dipped, drawing the wet proof of her arousal out to moisten her folds.
Stop…
She needed to tell him to stop.
Timber.
This was not right.
“I—”
“Just try to relax.” His finger slowly traced—
The shrill ring of a telephone shattered the silence, and Dr. Tannh?user’s touch disappeared.
He answered the phone with a soft, steady voice. “Yes?”
Daisy yanked the gown closed, locking her knees together. Her heart hammered hard enough to crack a rib.
“Yes. I see. Thank you.” He hung up. Turned back to her with a Cheshire smile. “Good news. You’re not pregnant.” He chuckled at his little joke, then opened a drawer and withdrew a small vial and a syringe.
Fuck. The contraceptive. They still weren’t done.
“This will sting,” he said, approaching with the needle. “But only for a moment. And then you’ll be on your way.”
She eagerly pulled up her sleeve and closed her eyes as the needle punctured her skin. She sucked in a breath as cold chemicals spread under her skin. Then it was over.
He tossed the syringe in a bin marked BIOHAZARD. “All done. Next time I see you, you’ll be a whole new woman.”
“Next time?”
He smiled, his eyes darkening with promise. “Tomorrow, at The Feast. I’m one of the hunters.”