In the Hands of Dr. Wojcik Part 1

Chapter 1

As I look back, I feel amazed that I could have put myself into such a state. Me! Robert Douglas, thirty-nine, successful businessman, pillar of the community, and all the rest. Nice house, family, all healthy, OK looking, in short, the personification of the American dream. Everything seemed to be going well for me that summer five years ago, but it was not to remain that way for much longer.

Business slowed down. Way down. The opening of a megastore shopping complex two miles down the road hit my business like a ton of bricks. Had to cut costs, scrimp and save wherever I could. Cut advertising. Tried to renegotiate the lease. Reduce staff. And I was still on the brink of disaster. I started to get desperate. There seemed to be no easy way out. So I did what anybody else would do in the same circumstances. I cheated.

In thirteen years of business I had never had my tax returns questioned. Not once. I had a moderately profitable specialty store, all expenses were within industry norms, and everything looked completely typical for my industry. I had never felt the need to 'push the limits' of creative accounting, so to speak. But these circumstances pushedme too far. I began to adjust the expenses up a bit. Did a few cash sales with no receipts. Faked some damage to the merchandise that could be written off, then promptly sold it at a discount to a friend. You know, the usual stuff, nothing to get excited about. Chump change, really.

Still, I wasn't completely out of the woods. Things were still tight. Hired temps to replace some expensive senior sales staff I had had to let go. Some real losers there. One fat lump of a girl with more pounds than brains kept taking thirty minutes for a fifteen minute break! I shot her dirty looks but she ignored me. Again and again! Finally I'd had enough. Called her a lazy fat cow in front of everyone else, told her to move her big butt outta there now and never come back! Watched her angrily waddle out. Felt good about that. For two days. Then the proverbial shit hit the fan. Hard! Seems our Miss cow had been doing bookkeeping for us. Had seen some of my 'questionable' stuff. Had called the IRS. And now they had me!

Well, like a fool, I fought it. Had a court case. Legal fees! Bloodsucking lawyers. Got pissed off at the judge, an annoying bald dipstick, always looking down at me with utter contempt written on his sappy face. He had the nerve to lecture me before declaring me guilty. Told me my conduct was 'reprehensible'. I snapped. Called him a boring old jerk! What an idiot I was. He glared at me for a minute, then excused himself without a word and retreated to his chambers. My lawyer shot me a 'Now you've really done it!' look.

The judge returned a few minutes later, with a hard look on his face. He explained that normally these cases called for just a fine, but in light of my unrepentant attitude he was giving me two years of community service. I was told to report to the officer in charge later that week. I wearily shuffled out, a beaten man. When I reported to the officer two days later, I was given the choice between assisting at the local old folks home twice a week, or taking part in a project at a local medical research centre, which I had never heard of. The choice was obvious. My case had received almost no attention in the press.

Still, I knew that my neighbours knew about it. At first I felt embarrassed, but soon got the impression that they kind of were impressed. I almost thought they felt I was some kind of hero, fighting the government like that. But the prospect of cleaning floors in the old folks home was too horrible to consider. I would certainly see lots of people I knew, friends, business associates, visiting their old folks.

The medical research was a no-brainer for me. So I was told to report to the Wojcik Neurological Research Institute, WNRI, in the ADF Medical building, 471 Francine Blvd, 5:15 p.m., the next Thursday. I had been given the 5:15 time slot to allow me to continue operating my business during normal business hours. I was warned that I must faithfully attend a two hour session twice every week, and co-operate fully. It was explained that the Wojcik Neurological Institute was headed by Dr. M. Wojcik, an internationally renowned expert in neurological science. I was to participate in some sort of research project funded by the government. Any complaints about my conduct would result in the court reviewing my case, with the distinct possibility of jail time replacing the community service.

I happily assured the community service officer that I was more than willing to completely comply with all their requirements.. He instructed me to get chest x-rays and blood work performed at the local hospital, and sent to Dr. Wojcik in advance of the first appointment. As I drove off that summer day, my spirits soared. Medical research! It was perfect. No-one would see me, no work involved, just sit there and be tested, whatever that might mean. Maybe there would be a little physical discomfort, that's all. Probably testing a new drug or something. Whatever. I could deal with that. Hell, maybe I could sue them later! With that cheery thought I drove to the hospital.

Chapter 2

Thursday was a typical day. Traffic in the store was so-so, but dealing with suppliers was taking a lot more of my time than usual. One of my biggest called just before we closed at 5:00. I was stretching payments on average ten days longer than usual, and boy, he didn't like that at all! On the other hand, I was a pretty good customer in all other respects, so I figured that our negotiating positions were about equal. I finally managed to talk my way out of things, hung up the phone, and realized with a shock that I was suddenly at risk of being late for my first research appointment. I told my assistant Helen to lock up, and dashed out the door into my five-year old convertible. I raced through traffic, weaving in and out like a madman, before hurtling into the ADF Medical Building parking lot at 5:06. Nine minutes, plenty of time.

To my dismay the lot was full, and several cars were circling aimlessly waiting for a spot. I waited behind an older K-car, which was obviously waiting for a spot as well. Shouldn't take long, I thought to myself, what with it being just after 5:00 . Lots of people must be leaving right about now. Sure enough, just then a stocky fellow in an very crumpled cheap suit walked over to his car, keys in hand. As he pulled away, I waited for the car in front to take the spot. Nothing. No sign of life.

Another ten seconds, I decided, then I'll take it. Nothing. Fine, then I'll take it. I moved forward to the side of the parked car, and was beginning to wheel into the spot when suddenly the dormant K-car carelessly lurched forward, cutting me off. I had to slam on the brakes to avoid a collision.

What the hell? Unbelievable! Didn't even see me! I watched incredulously as the car slowly parked, then opened its door. A forty-five'ish woman emerged, black hair, thick old-fashioned glasses, very plain face, heavily built, a little more than average height. A real non-looker, if you know what I mean. Her face was expressionless, which confirmed to me that she was unaware that she had cut me off. As she began to cross towards the foyer, a small group of twenty-somethings came out of the building.

As usual my impulses got the better of me. I leaned out the window.

"Hey fat-ass!" She looked around, bewildered. The twenty-somethings looked over at me, surprised.

"Hey you!"

She finally fixed her startled eyes on me.

"Ever consider looking where you're going? You just cut me off, you dumb cow! Where'd you learn how to drive, moron?"

She stopped. Her face looked shocked, and I swore I could see her lips twitching, trying to form words that weren't there. One of the twenty-somethings giggled. The woman stood there, unable to move. I stared at her for a second, then noticed that a car was pulling out further on. I gunned the motor, and was gone. I actually felt a sense of exhilaration as I strolled into the building a minute later. Like it or not, that was the way I dealt with people, and if they were going to act like idiots, they deserved whatever they got from me. I noted that the Wojcik Neurological Institute was situated in Room 55 on the fifth floor, and , feeling rejuvenated, decided to take the stairs. I raced up them two at a time, positively brimming with youthful energy.

I slipped into the waiting room. A slightly chubby but nonetheless attractive receptionist with incredibly long red hair and lots of freckles took my details, and asked me to take a seat. For fifteen minutes I read magazines, then was escorted down a hall, past several rooms, into Dr. Wojcik's office. It was rather boringly laid out, I must admit, and I wondered what kind of research was involved here. The receptionist offered to get me a coffee, which I gladly accepted. When she returned, she told me that Dr. Wojcik would be just a few more minutes. I was still feeling rather chipper, and this gal was friendly enough, so I asked her if she always worked this late. She said that it happened a few times a week when Dr. Wojcik had extra reports to prepare. I inquired whether he was busy with lots of projects at the moment. She looked at me strangely for a moment, then replied thatshe had just received government funding for a new project that would keep her occupied for several years. I was a little bit shocked to discover that Dr. Wojcik was female, and I felt a little bit unnerved for a moment, but it soon passed. She left the office, shutting the door behind her.

In a few minutes, I heard the sound of several footsteps clacking down the hard surface of the hallway, and the sounds of voices. They stopped just outside the door, and I heard a few snatches of conversation. I presumed it was Dr. Wojcik and the receptionist.

..."not to be disturbed...finish the filing...Yes...Yes...Fine. Buzz me when you get the x-ays please, Veronica."

Then I heard one pair of footsteps receding into the distance, and the 'click' of the door latch as the door handle was turned. Dr. Wojcik entered the room.

Our eyes met, and for a moment I thought I might either faint or piss in my pants.. It was HER! The woman in the parking lot! I couldn't believe it. She now had on a large white Doctor's jacket, but she was unmistakable. My stomach contracted uneasily, and I swallowed nervously. As she looked at me I saw here eyes widen in surprise, and then for a second a flush seemed to come over her face. I quickly drooped my gaze. I think we were both speechless for a moment or two, then she regained her poise, closed the door behind her, and walked purposefully behind her desk. Without looking at me or saying a word she reached into a drawer and pulled out a file, then began flipping through the pages one by one.

I sat there completely dumbfounded. I could feel my face, hot and flushed, begin to perspire, and there was a distinct stickiness in my armpits as a wave of complete helplessness overcame me. For once, I was speechless. Looking up at me over her glasses, she suddenly broke the silence.

"You know why you're here?"

I was taken aback. Her voice had a thick foreign accent, Romanian or Polish or something like that, with a dead, steely tone to it. Absolutely cold and blank.

"Y-Yes," I stammered, "medical research."

"Hmmmm." She carried on flipping through her files and charts.

"Youdid have a full set of x-rays taken?"

I nodded.

"Well, they're not here yet. They are supposed to arrive today. Otherwise your medical files seem to be in order, and everything looks satisfactory. You're healthy, at least...Do you know what this research project involves?"

A meek "No" was all I could muster.

"My work involves the study of brain activity during involuntary muscle contractions, spasms, seizures, and the like. There are numerous applications related to neuro-motor conditions such as Parkinson's disease and epilepsy. My testing involves inducing a wide variety of these uncontrollable spasms, such as sneezing, and monitoring brain activity according to various measurement criteria. As the subject of this experiment you must be willing to submit to long sessions of such activity. There will be little or no pain, but some fatigue and other types of discomfort. And I must remind you that this study cannot bepartially completed, as your brain activity under each type of stimulus must be tabulated and compared toyour, and only your measurements. If you should decide even in the last month of the study that you can no longer continue, the entire project is wasted, and I shall be forced to inform the authorities of such. In that case you will be required to perform other community service, not for the duration, but from the beginning. So you see, you must take your commitment to this project seriously."

I nodded my head, but all I could think of was the incident in the parking lot. I knew that she knew it was me. I decided that the best policy was to get it over with and confront the issue, so that there wasn't this nasty feeling continuously hanging in the air.

"Look," I began, "about that incident in the parking lot. I didn't mean..."

"Mr. Douglas," she intervened, with a severe tone of voice, "what did or did not occur in the parking lot or anywhere else for that matter, does not concern us here. This is a professional research facility, and I will conduct myself in a professional manner here at all times. I expect the same of you. Now, do you have any questions?"

I felt immeasurably relieved, now thatthat was out of the way. I couldn't think of anything else, so after a moment of silence, she directed me down the hall to Room 4d..

Chapter 3

I found the room two doors down at the end of the hall, and pulled the solid white steel door open. The light was on, and as I stepped inside I observed a normal medical examination room. There was a steel office-type desk in one corner, with a computer on it, two steel cabinets, one with two large swing doors, the other with two columns of pull-out drawers, an examination table with the usual roll of paper lining the surface, and a large examination light on rollers. I sat up on the exam table, and waited. There was a steady hiss coming from the air-vents, a soothing background noise that I found quite relaxing. I was startled when the door suddenly swung open and Dr. Wojcik walked in, for I hadn't heard any footsteps coming down the hallway. As she swung the door shut behind her, I noticed that the door and frame had a series of rubber baffles and foam edges where they joined, and evidently this created a very sound-proof closure. She walked behind her desk, her shoes making a hard clacking as she walked, and took a clipboard and pen out.

"Please remove your clothes down to your underwear and sit down on the examination table."

I had forgotten about medical exams. Feeling like a little boy, I did as I was ordered, hanging my clothes on a hook behind the door, then sat on the table.

She then gave me a normal series of tests - examined my eyes, nose and ears, made me cough while listening through the stethoscope., tested the reflexes, took my temperature, and felt my throat and chest. As this was going on I noted more details about Dr. Wojcik. Her hair was very black, medium length, done up in some completely non-descript fashion that was remarkably boring. She had thick eyebrows for a woman, a medium-sized mouth, with cheeks that were just on their way to the looseness of middle-age. Her skin was somewhat pale, and I detected a whiff of cheap perfume on it. There was almost no make-up on her face, save some red lipstick that looked ill-chosen and inexpertly applied on her inelegant lips. Never was or could be a beauty, that much was for sure, but certainly not ugly either. The kind of face you really don't pay much notice to in ordinary circumstances. Overall her body was on the large size, although far from fat. About 5'10," she was tall, and struck me as strong. An excellent peasant, I thought wickedly to myself. I could just imagine her walking behind a horse-drawn plough somewhere in Bulgaria. Her bust and hips seemed in approximately correct proportions, although it was hard to tell with the white lab coat on. When she examined my ears I felt her breath on the side of my face, and smelled it - a little stale, never used fresheners, that much was clear. As she went she ticked off items on her clipboard.

"Right, please remove your undershorts and lie down on the examination table."

I froze. Of course. A full exam. Even the privates. How awful.

I glanced at her face, and my stomach turned when I saw that she was ready, staring straight into my eyes. Not a hint of any expression at all. What to do? Reluctantly I stood up, pulled down my shorts, stepped out of them, and placed them on the hook with the other items. I sat on the examination table, then swung around, and lay back, legs held together. I somehow couldn't believe that I was now lying with my manhood fully exposed in this cool air, in front of the same woman I had yelled at in the parking lot just half an hour earlier.

Dr. Wojcik began to press on my lower abdomen, here, there, and everywhere. Then she used two hands and lifted one leg, put it to the side a little, then did the same to the other. She reached up along my thigh and began pressing below my testicles with her thumb and fingers, then gently examined the scrotum, feeling for the vas defe7rens, before examining the testicles themselves. I felt quite vulnerable, fearful of pain. My leg muscles were tensed, and I sat as still as a statue. Finally, she briefly lifted my penis, pulled the skin down, looked intently at the head without touching it, and then gently placed it back down on my stomach. She turned and began ticking items off on her clipboard, and I was just starting to relax again when suddenly there was a timid knock on the door.

"Yes?" Dr. Wojcik grunted, without looking up.

The door opened a crack.

"Ah, Dr. Wojcik, it's Veronica.. The X-rays have just arrived by courier. Shall I leave them on your desk?"

"No, bring them in."

A shudder went through me. Bring them in? What about me?. The door immediately swung open, and before I could think, I heard Veronica enter the room. I sayheard because at that time I was so mortified that I stared at the back wall as hard as I could, even though Veronica could not be more than a few feet away. Shehad to of seen everything! My mortification knew no bounds. And Dr. Wojcik made no move to turn around and take the damned X-rays! She continued to jot notes on her clipboard, her back to me and Veronica, while we waited.

She finally turned around after what seemed like two minutes, although it was probably only fifteen seconds, and took the envelope. She reached across me and pulled the extendible lamp over, switching it on. Then, she carefully extracted the films and held the first up to the light, directly above my stomach. Veronica turned to go, but D. Wojcik indicated that she was to stay with a short wave of her hand. She studied the x-ray carefully.

"Hmmm. This is quite unsatisfactory." She beckoned to Veronica to come look. "The quality is very poor. This must have been done by a trainee. Look, you cannot even distinguish any detail in the lungs."

Veronica stepped over beside the exam table, right next to me now. Dr. Wojcik placed the X-ray on my stomach, then reached for number two.

"Look. Here again. Absolutely unsatisfactory."

Dr. Wojcik looked. Veronica looked. And I looked. At Veronica's breasts. I couldn't help it. They seemed to be somewhat on the large side. The bright light from the lamp was shining through her white blouse, and I could make out the lacy pattern of the white bra material beneath it. Her right arm was reaching forward, and I could see part of her armpit through the drooping material, and the first hint of her right breast before the bra covered it up. The form was perfectly visible in a kind of bright silhouette, and I could detect the bumpy little point of her nipple, protruding even through the bra fabric. It was a very loose bra, for as she leaned forward to look closer at the x-ray, I clearly saw her breast slightly detach itself from her chest wall andhang a little.As she stood there, I watched in fascination as she absentmindedly reached across her torso with her left arm, and gave her chest a scratch just below her breast. I saw her breast lift a little as she scratched. Dr. Wojcik continued to point out the shortcomings of the x-ray to her.