The Hospital

I woke up thinking that there was no way the pain could get any worse. My stomach was in knots and I had tossed cookies for the third time in the longest hour of my life. Since it was my first semester in college I had no idea what steps to take next; so I called my mother. I told her the truth – I had partied the night before but not very hard. She had no advice for me. Still my stomach made me feel like I was dying rather than hung over. I got up to try and use the restroom when the pain went from bad to worse.

It was at that point that I decided to face my fears and just go to the hospital for a quick check up. After calling campus security to take me to the hospital I told my girlfriend what was going on.

"I hope you'll be okay baby, call me when you get out?"

"Sure. It's nothing I promise – can't be too careful."

The car ride to the hospital was embarrassing to say the least. Here I was, some stupid freshman that campus security had to tote around to the doctor because she wasn't allowed a car on campus and couldn't handle her alcohol. I was sure that I would never have another sip of alcohol for the remainder of my life. What made me most uncomfortable was that the security officer taking me to the hospital was a man. He wasn't old but wasn't young either and he kept glancing at me trying to make small talk. The small talk was fading fast as I began having trouble with my breathing. When would we get there? How far away is the hospital?

I learned ten long minutes later that the hospital was not far off and I was just being impatient. I gave the attendant at the counter my insurance information and she called my mom (who was surprised to hear I'd actually stepped foot in a hospital) to clarify all of the information. Now it was time to play the waiting game. I sat in the waiting area and watched as everyone ahead of me got treated and my pain worsened with each second. Finally I was called, and I went with a nurse to the back end of the hospital.

This was my least favorite part of going to any doctor; being weighed. I came in at a whopping 220 pounds, 5'4", as I'd been since I tuned sixteen. I had short brown hair, hazel eyes, and not much interest in the way of fashion. Everyone looked at me like a freak. I could tell what they were thinking.

"It's people like her who give America a bad name and an obesity stamp."

"She'll never get laid looking like that."

"I wonder if she tried to drink herself into thinking someone would go for her. College girls can be so naïve."

I've heard it all before. I'm bigger, I'm not exactly pretty, and people just don't want me. That's why I had a girlfriend. She was the only one who would ever want my body... or so I thought.

After running some tests I was surprised to find that what I had was not alcohol poisoning at all, and I would have to stay for more tests. I was given drugs for the pain, and that's where things started getting groggy. Painkillers hit me pretty hard in any normal circumstance, and this was an extra dose to make me feel pretty numb all over. Needless to say I was pretty loopy.

A male doctor came in and introduced himself as a recent graduate from my school. I thought it was pretty neat that I was meeting one of my own kind... it even made me feel comfortable and more relaxed in such a dismal place.

"I just need to check a few things. Can you tell me what the pain felt like in the beginning?"

"It's like nothing I've ever felt. It started as a stomachache and then I started throwing up. I was sure it had to do with the alcohol."

"How has it progressed since it started?"

"Well when I decided to come in I could barely breathe and when I stood up straight it felt like my body was being ripped into two at the lower end of my stomach."

"Alright. I'm going to have to check your stomach and your vaginal region will need to be examined as well since the pain is so low in your stomach. Would you prefer a female nurse?"

I had no idea what to say. He was very handsome and I was comfortable with him; he was my kind. But I was self-conscious about my weight and the way I must look to a man – any man – especially under these circumstances. I didn't want him touching around or in my pussy. Quite frankly I was appalled that it even needed to be examined.

They say that the biggest lie women ever tell is...

"No, I'm fine."

Oh my...did I really just tell him that?

"You're sure?"

No. Not one bit sure. Get out of my room and away from my body.

"Yes. I'm positive."

It was a losing battle. I wanted him to touch me more than I wanted to know what was wrong with me. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined what was going to happen next.

The examination went smoothly at first. He pressed my belly at all sorts of angles and asked me to breathe certain ways. Then out of what seemed like nowhere he worked his hands down my legs. I was expecting him to spread my legs and feel the outside of my vagina but it was a fruitless hope. Was it supposed to be this way, or was I just so drugged up that I was imagining the caressing hands that were then sliding down from my thighs to my ankles. Lightly he stroked my legs up and down, and finally he pushed them apart from between my thighs.

I was completely naked under the hospital gown and I could feel cold air rush into my pussy. He did not ask me to breathe certain ways or push on the outsides of my vaginal region for better understanding. Actually, he didn't speak at all anymore. What I felt next was horrifying, and very erotic. His thumb pushed into the top of my clit, right where my g-spot is, and he rubbed small circles there for a minute or two, obviously waiting to gauge my reaction. I was so stunned that I said nothing, I could barely breathe and he interpreted my silence as consent. His interpretation was incorrect.

As much as I hated to think it, I was about to be raped in some form and I was fully aware of it; but who would believe me? I asked for it, right? This was my fault because I would take anyone who came my way and everyone knew that was true. I had no voice in the matter.

I felt two fingers move into my pussy slowly, pumping in and out and gradually picking up speed. I could barely breathe as it was, but my breathing intensified. He groaned quietly to himself and I heard a zipper pull...

Instantly I was no longer groggy. I was at the peak of awareness and was ready to call for help when he shoved his cock straight into me with no warning. He was big. I'd been sleeping with a girl lately and a cock this size was too much for me to handle. I whimpered to myself but otherwise made no other objection. It would be over soon, I was sure.

He fucked me gently at first, even strokes in and out of my pussy and I got wetter with each pump. I was enjoying having a real dick in me for the first time in a very long time, but I knew it was wrong. I began to fantasize that he was someone I knew, someone from the party the night before that I'd wanted to fuck anyway. He began to speed up fucking me harder than I've been fucked in my life. Finally he spoke.

"Does it hurt?"

Yes. God yes. It hurts so much. I hate you. Please don't stop.

"Mmmmm..."

I was in no position to speak. If I opened my mouth then I would have screamed loud enough for everyone in the hospital to hear. He started to slow down and dumbly the only thought that came to mind was that I was doing something wrong. I wasn't satisfying him. And then it happened. He pumped hard and fast for exactly 9 seconds (I had to do something to keep from screaming, so I counted) and then pulled his cock out. My pussy clenched and released over and over again, not ready to let him go. I had not cum yet. He was cumming into a cloth and wiping himself clean, groaning the whole time.

After he wiped my pussy clean, he stuck two fingers back in and felt the sides of my vagina until I yelped from pain. The meds were wearing off and he had hit a tender spot. He took out my chart, wrote a few things down, and pushed my legs back together.

"I think we'll need to take a few x-rays. I'll bring in a solution for you to drink before we scan you. Is there anything I can get to make you more comfortable until we're ready for you?"

Yeah. You can go to hell. Get hit by a bus. Fall off a cliff.

"Water, please. I'm so thirsty."

"Thirsty. Hm. Okay."

And then he walked out. A different doctor brought my water. Up to that point I had always wanted a man to take me for his own; I guess I've got to be more careful about my wishes from now on.