A Weekend with 'k' Ch. 07

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'k' is examined.
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Part 7 of the 7 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 03/21/2008
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Hubee
Hubee
368 Followers

Our long weekend of lust is coming to an end. So many long dreamed of fantasies have been explored, satisfied and crossed from the list. Only a few remain and I want to make sure our last day leaves a lasting reminder -- something out of the ordinary

I awoke before you, without need for an alarm. I left you lying in bed, exhausted from our activities the night before. As I come out of the bathroom in my suit I hear the expected knock on the door. The sound wakes you and I see your eyes go wide as you remember where you are -- and began to wonder what that knock might herald.

I smile down at you and say, 'You can relax - for now.'

I go to the door and take custody of the wheel-chair I had arranged with the hotel porter, tipping him without letting him into the room. I also give him both of our suitcases, packed whilst you slept

When I wheel it back to where you can see it I laugh at your look of surprise and tell you,

'No, I am not going to tell you what this is about. Just do as you are told.'

I lay some clothes on the bed. Well, I say 'clothes', when it fact all I give you are lacy hold-up stockings, high-heeled shoes and a white hospital gown.

'Get dressed.' I order.

I see you blush and get ready to protest. 'There is no time to wash.'

'But I need to pee' you say, looking at me pleadingly.

'Not yet.' I instruct, harshly.

Once again I watch you thinking about arguing. Then I smile when I see that you know it is pointless, that your acceptance of submission has reached a new level.

I watch you dress, which doesn't take long. Then I gesture you towards the wheel-chair. Hesitantly you lower yourself into the chair as I stand behind it. You flinch at first when I lay my hand on your shoulder.

I whisper in your ear. 'Relax, trust, submit.' From my pocket I take a crepe bandage and begin to wrap it around your head, covering your eyes, blocking out the light. Again I whisper in your ear

'Are you alright?'

Your quick nod is enough reassurance for me. Wheeling you backwards I open the hotel room door and then it is a quick trip to the lift. Our journey down is shared with an old couple who give me sympathetic glances after they see you. I shrug and try to look brave. At the front door is the wheelchair adapted taxi I arranged a week before. I had picked our hotel for its proximity to the teaching hospital that is our destination.

Professor Arnold meets us at the entrance at the arranged time and oversees the unloading of your wheel chair. We exchange only a firm handshake and broad smiles as he studies you. We have agreed beforehand to keep you in the dark -- literally and figuratively -- by not speaking. Of all the arrangements made for this weekend, this whole episode had been the most protracted and complicated

David Arnold is an old friend of mine, one who knows about my predilections -- and who shares most of them. As soon as you and I had made plans for our weekend I had been in touch with him and we made our own plans. He wheels you through long corridors and I follow, the wheelchair wheels squeaked on the shiny linoleum floor, until we arrive at double doors. I interpret his nod towards the doors and open them so he can push you into the room beyond.

All you can hear is a buzz of whispered conversation which makes you hunch up in the chair, until you feel my hands on your shoulders and my voice whispering in your ear.

'Stand up k.' When your shaky kegs have you upright I gently unwrap the bandages from your eyes and reveal the scene before you.

Your eyes blink in the bright lights suspended above what is patently a lecture theatre. They highlight the gynaecological examination chair in the centre of the room. They also reveal a camera on a tripod along with recording equipment. When you see15 or 20 young men and woman in white coats, arrayed in a semi-circle around the chair it is only my hand strongly clasping your arm that stops you collapsing back into the wheelchair -- or turning and fleeing from the room.

I start to untie your gown at the back and feel your muscles tense, as if you are about to shrug your shoulders in an attempt to keep it on. I wait a tense second and smile inwardly when I feel you relax -- resistance stillborn. When I remove the gown completely, leaving you revealed in only your stockings and shoes the audience begin to buzz with questions and comments. I can see you blushing, eyes downcast but I can tell that you are waiting for my instructions. Your trust and willingness to submit fills me with pride.

'Get into the chair k.' I instruct quietly. I watch proudly as you tottered the five paces to the chair. I move to your side and help Professor Arnold get your legs in the stirrup and the straps, across your thighs and your shoulders, ensuring you are comfortable - but unable to move. You keep your eyes closed as we do, glancing at me only once; until you see my slight smile of proprietorial approval and a quick wink. You close your eyes with a (slightly wobbly) smile of your own as we finish the job.

Once this is done the Professor adjusts some controls on the chair which brings you into a more-or-less horizontal position and opens your legs, splaying you before the engrossed audience.

Then the Professor turns to those watching and begins his lecture.

'We are very lucky today class. We have a unique opportunity, thanks to my friend' (he waves in my direction without naming me).

As he speaks you surreptiously study him. He is shorter than my 6 foot 2 inches, with a dark, almost Mediterranean complexion. 'Handsome' rather than 'good looking' is your instant appraisal. His wildly curly hair is cut in a style that you feel is a little 'young' for what you believe to be his apparent age. And an incipient 'belly' gives notice of potential 'paunch' in a few years time. But the obvious enthusiasm and passion in his words as he speaks to his students is very attractive to you

'A unique opportunity to do some practical work on our course.' You hear him continue.

'You are all hoping to become doctors specialising in the area of abnormal sexual behaviour. Today we have a chance to do some "hands on work" in this area.' He snickers at his own joke but the silence after it indicates that his students don't get it.

He lays a hand on your knee and announces. 'We are going to do some diagnosing today. We are going to find out if this woman is a "slut".'

I hear several of the audience gasp.

'Please switch on the camera. I think a record of this might be useful. Now, move closer to observe.' David tells his students

When they are clustered around he starts pointing out a few features of his subject - you.

'You will all notice marks, contusions, on the subject's neck, thighs and especially on her breasts. They would appear to be, in the vernacular, love bites.' He looks at you and asks. 'Is that the case?'

At first you are mute, then you cast a desperate look in my direction. I do not come to your assistance in the way you had hoped.

Instead I order, 'You will answer the Professor's questions immediately and honestly.'

Without looking at the professor you answer in a trembling voice. 'You are right, they are love bites.'

The Professor nods, pleased. 'Now we shall examine the genitalia' he announces, swinging an overhead light closer to illuminate you better. The professor and his students examine your pussy in silence for a few seconds.

Then David asks, 'How would you describe what you are observing class?'

An Asian student starts off with an easy one. 'The subject's...um........genital area is completely shaven?' he says, making it half statement, half question.

'Waxed' says a more confident, female, voice. I look up and see a Chinese girl giggling

'OK, yes, a hairless pussy' says the professor. 'We don't need to be coy with our terminology in this class Patel. What else?'

'Her labia majora and minora seem quite pronounced' suggests one student.

'Labia majora?' the teacher sneers. 'What did I tell you about being coy? Wouldn't it be easier to say that the subject has nice fat cunt lips?'

This gets a few shocked laughs and gasps before David asks, 'What might cause them to be so pronounced. You' he points at someone at random 'Paterson'.

The student selected 'ums' and 'ahs' a bit before suggesting. 'They might be pronoun.....fat...um...due to um. an injury? Or it might be natural, you know, like, genetic'

'OK' says the prof. 'It might also be due to sexual excitement. Had you considered that?'

'Surely not, not in this situation,' answers one of the female students.

Professor Arnolds shakes his head. 'Have you forgotten that we are studying abnormal sexual psychology? If she were sexually aroused what other signs would we find?'

Various answers are shouted out

'Pupil dilation'

'Skin flush'

'Her nipples would be distende.........hard'

Then after a pause someone adds

'Her cunt would be wet'

The professor looks up at this student and says, 'Very good Patel. I am glad someone is getting a little bit less scientific.' He looks at the other students. 'Shall we see if Mr Patel is right?'

Dr Arnold snaps on a rubber glove and expertly parts your 'fat cunt lips' and you can hear indrawn breaths.

'The subject's cunt is a wet as a swamp.' The doctor diagnoses

I see the pink blush of shame blossom on your skin.

'Are you sexually aroused?' he asks you directly. 'Are you horny?'

At first you only nod then, realising this is insufficient you clear your throat and say, softly. 'Yes, I'm horny....Sir.'

He nods, then asks, 'It makes you horny to have us looking at you?'

You really blush now and find it hard to speak. You are mortified at the question -- and at the truthful answer you have to give. Finally you manage to gasp out. 'Yes Sir.'

'In that case we should have a proper look, eh? He chuckles. Then he takes some clamps and attaches them to your pussy lips before pulling them to the side and laying them on your thighs. This opens up your cunt for closer examination and you can see the students all craning their heads to get a better look.

The professor snaps a question at them. 'Any observations?'

One of them ventures, 'there appears to traces of...um...sperm in her...va....cunt.'

'It looks like more than "traces"' says another with a dirty chuckle.

'I agree' says the professor. 'She is so full of cum I'm surprised she isn't leaking.' He looks up at you from his place between your thighs.

'How many times were you fucked last night?' he asks.

Shocked and shamed you admit in a shaky voice, 'I lost count. There were 15 men, I think. Many.....went....more than once. Maybe 10.....came in my......cunt.......and elsewhere.'

'Elsewhere?' the Professor asked you with an evil smile.

Keeping your eyes closed you continue to confess to your slutty behaviour with the builders. 'Several....fucked my...my bottom. Quite a few used my mouth.'

David laughed. 'So your arse should be about as full as your cunt?

You can only nod. He suggests 'Shall we check that?'

With gloved hands he parts your buttocks so his students can all see, giving them a commentary as he does.

'Ah hah, see how her arse-hole is red and it is still quite dilated, open, it must have been well stretched by cock.' Then he chuckles. 'And here is the final evidence we wanted to see -- spunk!'

You can feel it running out of your arse as he spreads it - and you wish there was some way you can hide your face. It trickles and starts to pool on the chair under your back when he removes his hands.

He takes another clamp and adjusts it till the curved ends are touching your clit.

Back in lecture mode he announces. 'Remember that we want to determine if this woman is a slut. Some people might assume that being the cum sponge in a gangbang, having an arse, cunt and belly full of jizz would be enough proof. But we must be scientific and not rush to conclusions.'

He closes the clamp on your clitoral hood and then stretches it back, exposing the hard pearl of your clitoris.

'Another test,' he explains, 'would be to check how easily she is excited; or turned on.'

From the trolley of more prosaic medical implements he takes up what is obviously a vibrator and switches it on. You start to tremble and gasp even before he touches the buzzing tip to your clit. As he does it feels like an electric current is being applied to your hard nub. You tense up against the bonds that secure you to the chair.

In a second you realise a number of things. You know that it will only be a moment before you orgasm violently. For a split second you feel shame that you will do this in front of an audience of strangers. But even thinking about the audience causes that orgasm to come a little quicker - and a lot harder. As the Professor pushes down a little harder with the vibe you are reminded how full your bladder is. Then you forget everything, your eyes roll back in your head and you start to cum, and cum -- and CUM.

As waves of pleasure crash over you, your body arcs in the chair, muscles tight and you shriek the joy of your release.

'ohgodoffuckshitshitfuckfuckmejesus'.

The flood of obscenities bursts from your lips as you lose yourself in the white light of your orgasm. Another flood begins as your straining bladder relaxes and piss gushes from between your wide-spread and straining thighs. The golden stream splashes some of the watching students, but they barely seem to notice, so entranced are they in watching you.

Your orgasm keeps you writhing for nearly a minute before you feel yourself start to calm down. With your eyes tightly shut you don't see the Professor take up a larger vibrator. Without preamble, warning, or other preparation he places it against your arse. Then he savagely thrusts it into your shit hole whilst at the same time pressing the vibe on your clit down -- hard.

Against all logic and expectation, almost against your will, this triggers another string of almost continuous orgasms. With the clamps holding you wide open it is easy to see that this time you squirt, not pee. The fluid is clear and gushes from your cunt, not your urethra. After an exquisite minute of the pleasure so intense it must almost feel like torture I see you suddenly relax, going limp. Dr Arnold carefully lays down his toys and checks the pulse at your neck, and pulls back an eyelid to see your pupil react to the bright lights overhead. He gives me a quick smile and a wink of reassurance before addressing his awed students.

'You will notice that are subject has just orgasmed so intensely that she has fainted.' Open mouthed they nod. He smiles and announces;

'I think we can safely conclude that today's subject is a slut, wouldn't you?' Again they nod.

Dave Arnold's smile widens as he goes on, 'In which case I am sure she won't mind if we treat her a little bit unprofessionally now.' He looks at me and I nod my continued approval of our pre-agreed plan.

A short while later you come around and find that you are still strapped into the examination table. The clamps have been removed and you are about to be skewered -- by the Professor's very hard, very fat cock. You look around and see that most of the male students have their cocks out and are stroking them as they watch. You can vaguely see that they are jostling to form a queue behind Dr Arnold. Some of the female students have shrugged of their white lab coats and one or two of the bolder ones are stroking any cock they can reach, bringing the guys to full erection. You almost panic as the enormity of what is in prospect comes close to overwhelming you. Then you see me watching you, slight smile on my lips. I give the tiniest nod and you relax, as best you can.

My words from earlier come to mind, 'Relax, trust, submit' and you commit yourself to doing exactly that. You know that you are here because this will please me. In the final analysis this is all the reason you need. You understand that the true core of submission -- to please whomever you have surrendered yourself to. Then you glance down at the big prick about to fuck you and you smile to yourself. You realise that this is likely to be a win/win when it comes to 'pleasing'.

The Professor moans as he eases his cock into you, surprisingly gently. 'Oh, you lovely wet cunted whore.' He sighs before beginning to thrust.

'That feels soooo good.' He croons, eyes closed in bliss. You feel your excitement rising in that familiar way and you begin to shed inhibitions. Realising he likes dirty talk you decide to try it for yourself.

'I love your cock in my..my...cunt', you moan. His eyes open for a second, then he smiles and begins to fuck you harder.

'Tell me more' he whispers in your ear.

'Is my cunt nice and tight doctor?' you ask him, sounding almost shy.

'It is' he groans.

'So it is still tight after ten men fucked me last night doctor?' Now your voice is teasing because you think you have discovered this perverted doctor's turn on. His response is a long groan of pleasure, confirming that you have worked him out.

'Do you like fucking my whorish cunt when it is still full of other men's sperm?' You giggle when you feel the doctor's cock twitch inside you.

'I was just a cum bucket for them Dr Arnold. They filled me with spunk -- in every hole.' The Professor is thrusting harder now, losing his rhythm as excitement robs him of co-ordination.

'Are you going to add to the cum in my juicy cunt?' I hear you whisper in his ear. 'Or maybe you'd prefer to pump your load into my sloppy, well fucked arse, like so many did befo..........'

You don't need to finish the sentence. The perverted image you have projected into David Arnold's mind with your filthy words has done the trick. With his head thrown back and mouth wide open in a rictus of orgasm he howls as he hoses your insides with his ejaculation. As his almost spastic spasms pass he slumps down bonelessly on your breasts, crooning obscenities.

Almost immediately one of his students taps him on the shoulder. You almost laugh when you see a flash of anger in the teacher's eyes. But then he shrugs and straightens up, making way between your legs for the next prospective doctor, keen to experience your abnormal sexuality at first hand.

The constant stream of cocks keeps you moaning -- and cumming. But after Dr Arnold none of the guys cum in you. They fuck you until you can tell they are almost ready to cum, then they pull out and spurt their loads into a large scientific glass beaker.

Between the fucking there is one touching, and exciting, interlude when two guys come forward at once. They are both tall, blonde and slightly androgynous. They look so much alike that you know they are brothers, probably twins. They don't get between your legs but position themselves on either side of you. Then, gently and almost lovingly, they start to kiss your nipples - one each.

At first this feels a little weird, almost ticklish. Then you sense their expertise at this sorely neglected skill and relax with a happy sigh. Quickly the sensations become more intense and it feels like your nipples are wired straight to your clit. Every swirl of a their tongues, each little suck and bite and nuzzle builds the sexual heat until you groan continuously and your clit is positively twitching with pent up tension. Then, without any apparent sign or communication between the brothers (other than telepathy perhaps?) they change tack and begin to.....I can use no other word to describe it....they begin to 'suckle'. It is like two adult babies are latched onto your tits and they are feeding.

The effect of the change is almost instantaneous on you. I see you freeze and hear your groaning become panting. Quickly this changes to little, bird-like cries of 'oh......oh....oh...oh.' Each cry follows the last at shorter and shorter intervals and become more and more high pitched until you orgasm intensely, almost desperately, without anything put your nipples being touched.

Hubee
Hubee
368 Followers
12