Fertility Clinic Pt. 10: THE BEAUTY PAGEANT

"My husband Jerry put up a false front, more empty boast than nastiness," I recalled. Jerry's Bravado when we parted at the employee's entrance. A friendly security guard snuck me into the control booth to watch Jerry inspected. Hesitant and awkward, tall powerful Jerry docilely stood, with a dumbfounded expression, hands on head. Impassively, a nursing assistant fondled Jerry's penis into an erection before she led him away to a hitching post for extraction of his juices.

In my discussion with Gloria on stage, I inquired, "What becomes of the pussified partner's emissions? Do we discard them as biological waste?"

In hushed tones, Gloria, looking me so directly in the eyes that I felt -- eh naked, challenged me, "Why would Dr Velour pay to destroy something she gets paid to provide? Just think of all the ways she makes money here, holding thousands maybe millions of dollars put up by adoptive parents pending delivery of the child, selling breast milk generated in government funded nipple stimulation experiments, charging per visit women from eh -- sperm-less marriages or prospective single -- mothers. Then string them along, scheduling them for endless series of stimulation in preparation for insemination... Plus selling the rights to all the eh -- training films, Dr Velour makes. This is one big ATM machine!"

"But," I remarked, "I suppose we benefit by it."

"The expense of Pharoah's tomb, may have stretched Dr Velour thin. Did Dr Velour need the underground solarium and sauna? The gym and pool are adequate. If `The Big One' Dr Velour expects doesn't come in, this," Gloria waved her arms, sending the freckles on her jiggling boobs into a dance, "could all collapse like a house of cards." The echo of Gloria's haughty laugh echoed off theatre walls.

"Sobering thought," I grimaced, "are we the ones strung along?"

Though undecided about Cindy's offer, I enjoyed stringing Jerry along. I bought revealing clothes with overtime money earned treating Cindy. Modelling in front of Jerry, I twirled in a black cropped top with matching mesh Minnie skirt over hip hugging black panties and black net stockings and low heels.

Eyes glazed, Jerry, standing hands on his hips, managed to keep his blood from boiling. "Not your usually prissy, plain dungarees and a T - shirt look," An astonished Jerry exclaimed, "You're all aglow!"

"Easier to take off and put on entering and leaving the clinic," I explained. Smiling seductively, I asked, "Pass me the bag with the baby doll pajamas."? Admiring my image, I mused, a woman rules through foxy cunning and craft, not brute physical force. Is exposing more skin an effect of ovulation?

On stage, Gloria explained, "The fun of pussification is tantalizing the old man. When the kids aren't around, I strut around nude, get him to towel me down after a shower, and nuzzle up to him in bed. It keeps him on just enough edge, so that he comes here to cum and not enough to rouse him into trying to break out of the nutcracker." Looking at me, Gloria tilted her head and asked, "You disagree."

"Feminine mystique depends more on," I replied, "a flair for the risqué. Drawing attention through provocative, alluring attire, a crop top revealing bouncing under boobs and suggestive low-cut shorts, raises men's temperature quicker than the brash shock effect of presenting full-frontal nudity."

Still skeptical about Cindy's offer, I submitted to the physical. During the exam, Dr Velour noted that taking the updated offer would avoid a display. "Yet," Dr Velour advised, "I think I can talk Cindy and her partner into offering even more money if I present you on stage. The ending could be very happy for all concerned. Your husband can take six -- eight weeks of eh -- pussification if it's worth his while."

"Amy, Am I," Cindy stumbled over biting, self -- deprecatory laughter, "in the business of pussification? My scrub nurses snicker when the anesthetized patient is rolled in on a gurney, 'Routine! Wheel in a man, exit a eunuch.'" Tears welled in her eyes. "Mostly it's too damn bad. The patient is old; we give them hope!" Cindy choked on her laughter, "I'm his savior," Cindy declared sarcastically, "If the guy's lucky, once pussified, he might live two more years with cancer. That's a good day conquering disease!"

"I hope," I spoke in comforting words as I scooped up the half-moons of her butt in my hands to gently massage the hemispheres, small enough to fill my hands, "this relieves tensions from your day."

Releasing a sigh of resignation, Cindy bitterly whined, "I guess I have to get up, wash the goo off that you spread between my legs. Accompany me to the shower?"

Walking to the visitor's showers, Cindy turned to declare, "Won't my partner be surprised when I come home with a shaved pussy! Hmm, I wonder. Should I let her see it? Lately, I've kept her at bay."

"Just think of it," Gloria entertained the girls on stage, "everybody from maintenance to nurses and even administrative personnel, here, takes off their street clothes, struts their stuff over a steel catwalk, and showers. Why?" Gloria laughed. "Don't they bathe at home? Could it be entering nude across a rough passageway to shower marks a rebirth into a different phase, perhaps a different life."

In the shower, Cindy suggested, "Make yourself more comfortable. As I undressed, Cindy noted, "This is the first time I let someone shower with me since that jerk barged in on me in the surgical shower..."

Removing my panties, I uttered senseless comforting words, "It must have been a terrifying experience."

"Every," Cindy explained as she studied my body, "unexpected twist in your path, however trying, can in turn lead to an unexpected discovery. From that agonizing experience, I have come to see possible adaptations of Dr Velour's sperminator. Could it be adapted for use by castratos as a prosthesis?"

"A simple communal shower," I asked as I applied a soapy washcloth to her back, "brought this revelation?"

"The laying on of hands and submersion in water for cleansing," Cindy proclaimed, "signify rebirth, rededication, and a new realization: here, the utility of the sperminator as a prosthetic device."

In a poolside aside, Dr Velour, as we dangled our feet in the warm water, bare butts butting up against each other, noted the conclusion of the menses phase.

"A few days of misery readies the body for the next phase in the cycle," I replied. "despite cramps, bloating and migraines, I emerged unscathed. I didn't kill Jerry and, in his frustration, he didn't kill me."

Politely chuckling, Dr Velour turned to look out through a glass window on the progress with her solarium. "The workmen," Dr Velour noted, "installing the tiled walls, are shoring up the row of stores whose outer shell I had to keep to secure zoning approval. The past surely follows us."

"While I'm sure many will find sunbathing in a solarium during our frigid northern winters inviting," I observed, "I find water relaxing. Maybe it's part of the remote past of our species."

"Oh yes," Dr Velour asked, "Doesn't dangling toes in the pool make bare skin tingle? Any watery group ritual is a special kind of baptism, which unleashes deeply buried primitive instincts in a form which symbolizes repressed basic biological drives or once forbidden passions."

"A rather deep way of describing skinny dipping," I blithely commented.

"You've," Dr Velour complimented, "brought Cindy out of that hardened shell of misplaced modesty. Or as her partner Alison put it `Cindy is more comfortable in her own skin.'"

"Does anyone know what happened to Cindy?" I asked, "Was she raped?"

My question drew a blank look from Dr Velour. "Our function here is to either impregnate Cindy or find her a suitable surrogate. Cindy talks to you. Maybe you could find that out, on your own."

As I turned to leave, Dr Velour reminded me of a scheduled training session to teach nursing assistants use of the sperminator. "Be on time. We're filming. Think on it the sperminator, the ultimate sex toy, holds the potential to eliminate males with physical or mental deficiencies from the gene pool."

On stage, Gloria boasted that of having played 'the patient' in the filmed exercise. I thought you were most considerate nursing assistant. You made sure I was completely aroused -- you had me on my hands and knees -- you told me what you were doing as you worked your way down my back -- You slobbered kisses on every freckle on my derriere before you rammed the sperminator inside."

"Nerve endings are concentrated there. Contact raises the blood pressure," I replied.

"Y'know," Gloria exclaimed, "My husband watching the film as he was tied to the hitching post yelled out, `I always knew she was Bi.' Your guy?" Gloria prompted me.

"Training films?" I thought aloud. "The clinic didn't use any clips where I appear." I took a breath, "When Jerry asked about any role, I play. Tapping his chastity shield, I mentioned the mortgage we pay."

"Finances are a potent motivation to remain impotent, hmm," Gloria laughed.

Finances are a powerful incentive, I reminded myself as I entered Cindy's treatment room. Lying supine, properly gowned, Cindy raised her head to allow me to unlace the strings. Lowering the gown to her navel, I worked her upper body musculature. Looking down on her with a smile, I whipped the gown off her body. "Eek," she cried in a tone caught between surprise and delight.

"Hmm, let me take a moment to admire my work.," Though initially hesitant, Cindy relaxed. Spreading Cindy's legs to feel along her hairless pubis, I declared, as I parted her vaginal lips and tickled the crease with my fingers, "working blind, I did a pretty good job clearing your pubes."

"You're one bad girl," Cindy quipped as she lifted her knees. I guided her fingers to her clit and G spot.

I was transfixed. Prissy little Cindy was revving herself up to an orgasm. She'd be ready for the sperminator, the dildo Dr Velour devised to shoot man juice into a patient. Without warning, I felt uncomfortably warm. My top was soaked with sweat and my bra straps dug into my shoulders. I broke away to fetch Dr Velour from the gym. Returning to Cindy's side, I helped her into the shower.

My brain was addled. I found myself naked under a spigot breast -- to - breast embracing Cindy. What happened to my scrubs? Nearby, Dr Velour waited, sperminator in hand. Why doesn't Dr Velour inject the man sap?

Later, waking naked alone on the floor in the shower, I rushed to the pool to confront Dr Velour. I was infuriated. "If you couldn't jab Cindy, why didn't you just hand the sperminator to me?" I demanded.

Beckoning me to "Sit `side me. Cool off," Dr Velour had me sitting butt -- to -- butt poolside with feet dangling in the pool, looking through the glass wall at the completed solarium and sauna. "Our North Country winters are bitter. I figure the solarium and sauna will draw in young women looking for relief from the cold. I'll entice them into lactation experiments, nipple exercises to draw milk, perhaps even surrogacy." With a sigh, Dr Velour asked, "What do my employees call this project?"

"Pharaoh's tomb?" I replied tentatively.

"Yes," Dr Velour reflected, "Ancient Pharaohs built great edifices they'd never live to enjoy, but projecting wealth is important to maintain a successful business."

Quiet fell as we watched the reflection of Dr Velour's solarium in the pool. "Nothing like an informal poolside chat," Dr Velour broke the silence. "Why, you ask?" Dr Velour chuckled laugh. "Cindy was ripe -- but so were you. Two bitches in heat, I could have rammed the sperminator inside both of you. With the tool in your hand," Velour shot me an evil smile, "you might have sunk it in your snatch."

"Does Cindy really want a child? Are we just stringing Cindy along?" I asked.

"Cindy is uncertain about pregnancy. She still talks of using a Surrogate. She'd like to use you." Dr Velour took a deep breath. "Why does Cindy want a Surrogate -- Oh I don't know Maybe the idea of pregnancy, eh," Dr Velour tapped my shoulder, "eh-- `The Big One' -- could -- still frighten her."

On Cindy's final visit for treatment, I followed the usual procedure. Helping Cindy on the scales, I dared to whip the gown off her body, leaving her stark naked in front of me.

"Frisky," Cindy blushed as she looked over her shoulder. As I admired her firm butt, she giggled.

"Let's get to work," I directed her to the treatment table. "Face down. Let me release all the tensions first. Then we'll have plenty of time for play."

"Sweet," Cindy cooed at my play on words.

I sighed. I did hope this time would be her day for 'The Big One' as I dripped the fragrant oil straight down the notches of her spine into her crack. "It goes on cool," I warned her as I massaged the muscles of her back, working my way down to her cute little butt, "but warms as I work it in..."

"Like our tryst in the shower, cold water dripping on hot bodies sizzling," Cindy purred.

"That electrifying shower liberated you," I spoke as kneaded the gluteal muscles of her butt, "There is something magical about a watery encounter that makes the bare skin tingle in anticipation, releasing primitive instincts, unleashing repressed basic biological drives and unlocking once forbidden passions."

I was tempted to palpate her crack but instead I chose to keep building the sexual tension through further tantalization. I spread her legs to tease her inner thighs.

"Let's not talk about showers," A whine entered Cindy's voice, "Everything started downhill there."

"Downhill? but, you're a successful doctor," I, reaching into her groinal crease, grazed her vaginal lips."

"It was a day. Everything went wrong all at once starting with a routine excision of testes suspected of being cancerous," Cindy recounted, "Routine. `Wheel in a bull,' one nurse snickered, 'exit an ox.' Glancing at the chart, I noted age 26, married, no children. Too damn bad."

"Tragic!" I declared in a reassuring voice, "I guess you deal with too much misery during your day."

"That day had been so terrible one -- entry -- in -- chart -- at -- a -- time, it got worse moment -- by moment that as crusty as I imagined myself to be, it shattered my world." Cindy stated.

"I hope," my tone was soothing as I scooped up the half-moons of her butt in my hands to soothe hemispheres, small enough to fill my hands, "this relieves tensions from that terrifying day."

"I palpated the penis to bring on an erection," Cindy recounted.

"A few last moments as a man?" I prodded.

"No, it's routine," Cindy turned her head to me to explain, "Arousal draws the testicles to bundle up in a ball in the scrotum. That makes it easier to slice the testes off. It takes art to make a steer out of a bull."

"Indeed," was my inane response, "Reduction of a man is an art form." That comment echoed advice given by a nursing assistant who fitted Jerry's chastity device. Told installation of the cock blocker would be easier if Jerry went erect, I, looking down at Jerry muscles straining against restraints in a gynecological exam table, ran my tongue along the underside of the shaft of Jerry's penis.

Monitoring the penis' elongation, the nursing assistant halted me. "Enough! Erection hardens," the nursing assistant explained, "the penis to confine it in a cylindrical cap and tightens the nuts to contain them in a cup, functionally emasculating the patient or," the assistant smiled, "pussification."

"Castration," I exclaimed as I pressed down with one hand on Cindy's lower spine and wiggled my fingers of the other through the groin crease, teasing her vaginal lips. I released a breath. "Bad luck."

I inserted the thumb of my gloved right hand to penetrate Cindy's crack while the web of my hand stretched across her perineum as my fingers searched for her love port. Cindy lifted her head; her body went rigid. "Feels so good." Cindy took a breath. "I open him up. No evidence of a mass. I glanced at the sonogram. The mass might be behind the testes. I cut the spermatic cord and extracted the testicles..."

"Tough, but necessary day's work!" I softly reassured Cindy.

Cindy, bucking up against my hand, drawing the thumb and fingers deeper into the recesses of her body, issued a satisfied moan before continuing, "Day?" A sarcastic tone entered her voice, "Well, I'd say it takes about hmm -- two minutes to geld a stallion. I sent the organ tissue for biopsy and ordered the intern to stitch up. After dictating a quick report, I hopped in the shower, trying to wash the day away."

"Something about bathing suggests more than washing your body; it's a spiritual cleansing," I spoke in a soothing voice, "a transformation; you cross a boundary never breached before like passing through a long dark tunnel and emerging in the dazzling sunlight of a different universe."

"That's not what happened," Cindy snapped.

"Oh?" I asked.

Drawing back, Cindy released a great sigh, before she resumed her narrative. "I'm showering, stark naked and the oncologist, eh -- cancer doctor, bursts in on me, `You have gall.' He bellowed as he grabbed my bare shoulders and shook me. Would I be raped? How much worse could it be than being raped by a man?" Cindy turned her head and appealed to me with those blue eyes.

"I didn't know---" I apologized.

"I'm scared and shaking," Cindy recalled, "I was afraid I'd void -- eh piss myself -- in front of a maniac."

"Terrifying," I commented.

"The oncologist yelled," Cindy recalled, "'I'm feeding you with business.' Suddenly he released his grip on my shoulders. He threw a printout of my report on the floor of the shower. 'Revise this.'"

With a sigh, Cindy thrust back with greater force so violent it sent a jolt through my body. My thumb and forefingers shot even deeper into her chasms.

"You've been through a lot," I searched for the lame words that might sound comforting.

"Heck, the worst part was my partner." Cindy sighed. "I demanded she get one of her detective friends to roust the fiend who assaulted me in the shower." Her blue eyes sparkled with innocence when she added, "That's all I wanted. Someone to talk to him."

"Naturally, one would hope," I tried to prod Cindy gently for the rest of the story

Withdrawing, Cindy released a great sigh. In the pause, Cindy explained, "My partner refused. It might cause more trouble. I might be blackballed by the medical profession and find myself short on work. I expected my partner to be there for me. My partner was there for my paycheck."

"How disappointing!" I strove to keep my tone soothing.

Recoiling with determination, Cindy moaned with delight as my body assumed control over my brain. My thumb and fingers explored the warmth of Cindy's depths. My breathing became rapid in synch with Cindy's; beads of sweat sprouted in my arm pits; perspiration dripped through my cleavage. I was getting unbearably overheated. I wanted to rip my sweat sodden scrubs off.

Recovering Cindy informed me, "I'm not sure. Do I want to get pregnant, have a child with my partner, establish a permanent relationship and build a life together? I haven't decided how to break it off."

"This is a complete surprise," I exclaimed.

"I've observed you closely," Cindy spoke candidly, "I could start a relationship with you on a business -- like basis --- You'd be paid to get pregnant and deliver a child for me. You'd reside with me and share raising children --The relationship would be contractual and your stipulated benefits, most generous."

"I'm flattered," I replied, "but I'm already committed to a marriage. My husband has his nuts in a jam to prevent eh -- accidental use of his natural eh -- sperminator."

"I can resolve that," Cindy snapped, "I have an oncologist who owes me a favor."

I was so shocked that what words formed on my tongue were completely lame, "I don't know what to say..." My voice trailed off.