Private Practice

Kelly Porter's headaches started her freshman year of college. They'd been mild at first, more like intense sinus pressure than fully developed headaches. That had soon changed. By her sophomore year, she was laid up in bed with a migraine at least once a month. Since graduation, the frequency had increased to twice a month. She was desperate for relief but so far, none of the doctors or homeopaths she'd visited had been able to help her. She'd tried acupuncture, medication, hot baths, cold baths, smelly poultices and essential oils... basically every medically proven treatment and old wive's tale under the sun. All to no avail.

Then, Kelly's friend Mark had mentioned his uncle was a neurologist who specialized in migraine treatment. Mark was a new friend from work who Kelly was pretty sure wanted to be more. She caught him staring at her tits every time they hung out, and one time after a night of drinking, he'd tried to invite himself up to her place. When she'd turned him down, she'd seen a flash of fury in his eyes that had frightened her. But then he'd chuckled and apologized and left. She had decided she must have imagined it.

"My uncle is an amazing doctor," Mark told Kelly. "He's got a waiting list a mile long, but if I call him he'll see you this week. I promise he can help."

So, there she sat in the waiting room of Dr. Jacob Michaels, M.D. The receptionist had given her a stack of forms to fill out. When she was done, she looked around at the other three waiting patients. She noticed they were all women, which wasn't necessarily odd. Then she realized not a single one was above the age of thirty, and they were all... well, hot, with sculpted bodies and beautiful faces.

Kelly knew she fit in. She was five foot nine, with a 34DD bust and a tiny waist that flared out into a round, firm ass. Since she was a little girl, Kelly had known she was beautiful. It wasn't that she was conceited, she just knew what she saw when she looked in the mirror. Thick, waist-length blond hair framed a heart-shaped face with full lips and ocean green eyes. More people than she could remember had gushed over her smooth complexion and cupid's bow lips—men and women. She was hot. Four-alarm-fire hot. It's not conceit if it's true, she thought.

"Kelly Porter," called the nurse waiting at the door to the back offices.

Kelly stood and approached the nurse, eyes wide. The woman was wearing an old-fashioned nurse's uniform, complete with one-piece white polyester mini-dress with buttons from hem to bust. White stockings and a wedge hat finished the look. She looks like she's late for a Halloween party. Kelly looked around the waiting room to see if anyone else had noticed the inappropriate outfit, but none of the other patients seemed fazed.

The nurse was shorter than Kelly, but she had to admit the woman's figure was almost as nice. Her tits were huge, nearly popping out of the uniform top. Kelly frowned inwardly, disliking the woman on sight. She had always been competitive with other women—couldn't help it.

The nurse's crimson lips curled into an unfriendly sneer. "Right this way, Ms. Porter. I'll get your height and weight and then we'll move into an exam room."

Kelly allowed the woman to guide her onto the scale, but when she tried to wrap a tape measure around her bust she slapped her hands away. "What the hell are you doing?"

The nurse frowned. "This is part of Doctor Michaels' treatment. The cutting edge equipment he invented must be calibrated to your exact measurements." The nurse's eyebrows shot up. "Are you refusing treatment?"

"No," Kelly muttered. "I'm desperate to cure these headaches. It's just a little odd, is all."

"Odd or not, if you want treatment, you'll have to allow it."

Kelly waved the woman to go ahead. She stood as still she could as the nurse wrapped the measuring tape around her breasts, waist, and hips. Finally she asked Kelly's shoe size, noting everything down on a chart, and led her to the exam room.

What followed was more typical. The nurse took her vitals—blood pressure, oxygen saturation and temperature. Kelly relaxed.

"The doctor will be right in." The nurse left the room.

Moments later, Doctor Michaels entered the exam room. He was an average-looking man. Average height, average weight, with thin brown hair and wire-framed glasses. Kelly didn't think he was bad-looking, just boring.

"Ms. Porter," he said, and extended his hand. They shook.

Kelly filled him in on her headaches, a recitation she could've done in her sleep. She'd seen so many doctors.

"We will begin with an application of a topical ointment," the doctor said, and took a small vial from the tray the nurse had left beside the exam table.

"Oh, I've tried essential oils. If anything, they seem to make my headaches worse."

"This is nothing like an essential oil," the doctor snapped. "This substance is my own invention. Using it, along with my other treatment protocols, I have a one hundred percent cure rate of hemiplegic, retinal, and cluster migraines."

"That's impressive," Kelly said, eyeing the vial like it held liquid gold. She suffered from cluster headaches.

"Of course it's impressive. Do you submit to treatment?"

What an odd way to put it. Kelly nodded. He dabbed the substance first on the pulse points of her wrists and neck, like perfume, then on her forehead and feet. She tried to keep a straight face as he touched her feet. She was ticklish.

He capped the vial and stepped back, studying her. She suddenly realized she couldn't meet his gaze and looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Her head began to feel a bit swimmy, like when she stood up too fast. She put a hand to her forehead.

"Is a headache beginning?" he asked.

"No, nothing like that. I just feel a bit odd. Not bad, just weird."

"Common side effect of the ointment," he said brusquely. "Nothing to worry about. Let me know if there's actually something wrong. Otherwise, you'll just have to try to let go and trust that I know what I'm doing." He pointed behind him at a wall of degrees.

Ugh, he has a terrible bedside manner. But Mark was so adamant in his referral. And his waiting room was packed. "Sorry, doctor."

He nodded, his expression softening. "How do you feel now, Ms. Porter?"

"Good," Kelly said immediately, and realized she felt more than good. She felt better than she had in years. "Great."

He nodded. "In that case, I'll need you to disrobe so I can apply the rest of the ointment."

Her eyes widened. "Disrobe? For a neurological exam?"

Dr. Michaels pursed his lips in anger and she felt a flash of panic zip through her body. He's trying to help you. Let him help you. You can't live like this anymore.

The doctor glared at her. "Mark said you were in a lot of pain and open to treatment. If that's not the case, I'll have Nurse Tabitha show you out."

"No," Kelly said quickly. "I'm sorry, Doctor Michaels. Please help me. I'll do anything you say." Even as she felt a rising certainty that she must do everything in her power to be a good patient for this man, she realized she felt almost calm, as if nothing could penetrate the newfound peace in her mind. He would help her. She knew it.

"Very well," he finally said. "Again, I need you to disrobe. There are medical gowns in the cabinet behind you if you're modest. I'll turn my back."

She felt an urge to question this—doctors usually left the room when a patient changed—but she didn't want to risk angering him again. As he turned her back, Kelly stood and removed her clothing, then wrapped herself in one of the thin paper gowns. She sat back down on the exam table and cleared her throat.

He turned, rewarding her compliance with a thin smile. "I'm glad you've decided to go along. I would hate for you to miss out on this treatment."

She felt herself flush at his approval, feeling no real need to speak. He was the doctor. She would let him do the talking.

"Nurse Tabitha, I need you in here," he called over his shoulder.

The mean nurse bustled back into the room a moment later, holding a second vial. Dr. Michaels took it from her and held it up in front of Kelly's face. "I've already administered SB1. Now I will apply SB2. Take your hands away from the gown, please."

Kelly's hands dropped limply to her sides and the gown parted, revealing her breasts. The doctor slipped the gown off her shoulders to her waist. She knew she should be embarrassed, or angry, or something that she was sitting there half-naked, but she couldn't muster up the energy to care. The doctor dabbed more ointment on his bare fingers and stoked them slowly over her now-hard nipples. She gasped and thought about moving away from him, but couldn't make herself do it. Nurse Tabitha grinned at her. Doctor Michaels finished with her nipples and moved on to her thighs. He stripped the gown completely away and handed it to the nurse.

"Get rid of that, please."

"Yes, doctor."

He moved between Kelly's legs and began applying the ointment to her spread thighs, then to her vulva. She parted her legs to give him better access. It seemed like the thing to do. He was going to help her, so she should help him.

"Good girl," the doctor murmured, his boring brown eyes gazing into hers. "I thought for a moment you'd be trouble, but you're a good patient after all."

She squirmed in pleasure at his words and touch, feeling like a flower opening for the sun.

"I need access to her buttocks, Nurse Tabitha. Help her turn over."

"Yes, Doctor."

The nurse took hold of Kelly's shoulders and forced her to lie flat on the table, then got a grip on her hip and nudged her over onto her stomach. Kelly moved as if in a dream, her eyes on the nurse's unkind face, then on her big tits straining the integrity of her uniform buttons. The nurse's smile widened and she reached out to pinch Kelly's firm bottom.

"Nice ass, honey."

"Thank you."

"Call me Nurse Tabitha!" the woman barked.

"Yes, Nurse Tabitha. Sorry, Nurse Tabitha."

Kelly knew there was something odd about her current situation, but it was a distant worry she felt. Her head felt wonderful—not a headache in sight. She'd have to buy Mark a nice bottle of whiskey to thank him for the referral.

"Lift your hips and buttocks a bit, Ms. Porter," said Doctor Michaels in a brusque voice.

Kelly stuck her butt into the air.

"Good, good."

She felt his hands on her ass as he massaged more of the ointment into her butt cheeks. His touch was perfunctory but still felt good. She longed to grind her tingling clit into the exam table, but he'd told her to lift her butt, so she didn't. His finger found her asshole, swirling a gentle circle against the tight bud. Kelly flinched away from his touch. Nurse Tabitha's hand came down on her ass, hard.

"Ow!" Kelly shrieked. "What the fuck? Get your hands off me, bitch!"

She tried to roll off the table, but strong arms held her down, pressing her back and face into the vinyl exam table.

"What's up, doc?" Nurse Tabitha cried. "The ointment usually has them totally zoned out by now."

"I'm not sure," the doctor said. "Give her a shot of SB3, and we'll get her going with the training program. It's just a little residual ego. I'm sure it'll work itself out."

Kelly felt a sting in her right butt cheek. They'd injected her with something! Her body relaxed and she melted into the table. She felt herself turned back over so she faced the ceiling. Someone placed ear buds into her ears and a pair of glasses over her eyes. The glasses were some sort of virtual reality gadget. She could see a digital picture, which began moving as she watched. Images flashed across the lenses, so quickly she had trouble focusing on each one. A smooth, melodic female voice began murmuring in her ears, like one of those ASMR people on YouTube.

Kelly knew rationally there were words to go along with the images, but as soon as they entered her mind they were gone, like water flowing through a sieve. When she tried to concentrate on the voice, a feeling of intense discomfort overcame her. She winced as she felt one of her headaches coming on, an excruciating pulse behind her left eye.

One of the earbuds was removed and she heard the doctor's voice.

"Relax, Ms. Porter. If you don't relax, the treatment will not work. Don't try to focus or think. Allow yourself to float away on a cloud of relaxation."

"What is the voice on the recording saying?" Kelly murmured.

"Ms. Porter," the doctor said in a stern voice. "If you do not want my treatment, just say so. I am a busy man and do not allow anyone to waste my valuable time."

The tone of his voice made her shudder with shame and embarrassment. This man wanted to help her, to cure her. He was a doctor—an excellent one according to Mark.

"No," Kelly whimpered. "The headaches are horrible. I need your cure. Please."

"And you will have it if you relax and listen. Your pain will be a thing of the past, I promise. Now float away, Ms. Porter."

He replaced the ear bud and Kelly forced herself to relax and clear her mind. She listened without hearing, watching the peaceful images flash before her eyes. She was lying naked on a table in a room with a doctor and nurse she'd just met. The nurse had pinched and slapped her ass, then injected her with a drug. The ointment had also been a drug. She knew these things, but they didn't matter. She needed to relax and submit and the cure would be hers.

*****

Dr. Michaels watched his young patient, studying her for the telltale signs of mental submission—relaxed limbs, parted lips, hard nipples and flushed skin. He saw the exact moment her mind relaxed and opened to his treatment, his favorite part in the entire process. She wasn't his completely, not yet. But she had opened herself to him, and that was a wonderful start. Dr. Michaels smiled.

*****

Though Kelly was unaware, her training lasted for three hours. At the end of the first protocol, Nurse Tabitha removed the ear buds and glasses and helped her sit up. Kelly squinted in the bright light of the exam room. "What happened?"

"You took your first step on the road to the cure," Nurse Tabitha chirped. "Now your training continues, and the doc said I can take lead."

"Training?" Kelly looked down at her naked body and saw that someone had written on her breasts in black marker: Slutty Bitch.

"Yep. Let's go out in the hallway. Get up."

"But I'm naked," Kelly protested.

"So?"

Kelly couldn't think of an answer so she climbed off the table and followed Nurse Tabitha's shapely ass out the door. There were a few people in the hallway, making notes on charts and shuffling paperwork. Doctor Michaels stood behind the reception desk, on the phone. They looked up when Kelly walked into the hallway. One of the men wolf-whistled.

"You'll get your crack at her, Tony," Nurse Tabitha laughed.

"Oof, I bet that pussy is tighter than a drum," the man said, massaging his crotch.

The nurse laughed and hiked her skirt up over her ass to display white stockings attached to lacy white garters. She wore a matching g-string. "On your knees," Nurse Tabitha commanded Kelly. "You're gonna eat my ass now."

"Wha-what?" Kelly stammered.

Tabitha glared. "I want you to eat my ass, princess. You need to get on your knees to do it."

"This feels wrong," Kelly murmured.

"Wrong?" Nurse Tabitha crowed. "We tell you what's right and wrong now, sweetie."

"But... " Kelly shook her head, her thoughts tangling in her head like a snarl of fishing line. "I don't think I want to... "

"Doctor Michaels," the nurse shouted, "we have a problem here!"

The doctor ended his phone call and hurried over to the two women. Nurse Tabitha lowered her skirt and explained the situation.

"This won't do at all," he muttered, making notes on Kelly's chart. He barked at a technician loitering in the hallway, "You there! Fetch me more of the SB2 topical oil."

Kelly stood and looked down at herself. She was naked! Bare-ass naked in a crowded hallway at her new doctor's office. She yelped and tried to cover her naughty bits but didn't have enough hands to do the job. She settled on covering her bare mound with one hand and crossing her forearm over her breasts. Nurse Tabitha snorted and rolled her eyes at Doctor Michaels.

"Hold your tongue or you'll be sorry, Nurse," he snapped.

"What the hell is going on?" Kelly shrieked. "What are you, a bunch of perverts? Where are my clothes?" She tried to run toward the open doors at the end of the hallway, but Doctor Michaels grabbed her wrist, slicking the skin over her pulse with a healthy amount of the oil.

"Let me go, you... you... " Kelly's hands dropped to her sides and her eyes glazed over.

The apprehension and anger slid from the doctor's face, leaving only clinical interest. "Interesting," he said to himself. "We've never had a subject resist the effects of the oil to this extent, especially not after the training video."

Nurse Tabitha cleared her throat. "Um, is my ass still on the menu for this rude bitch, or what?"

"Yes. Yes, of course. A bit of humiliation should get her locked back in. Just give me a moment, Nurse." The doctor made additional notes on Kelly's chart, then turned to face his patient. He shone his penlight in her eyes and listened to her heart with his stethoscope.

"That's cold," Kelly said in an absent voice.

"I'll warm you up." The doctor cupped her breasts in his hands and began to knead and stroke them, occasionally tweaking her now hard nipples. She moaned, hips swaying toward the doctor. He watched Kelly carefully as he pinched, prodded and fondled, then noted her reaction on the chart.

"Nurse, let's do another application of topical oil to the patient's control points. Then she should be good to go for your ass eating."

"Excellent," Nurse Tabitha said, squirming a bit at the thought of the prissy, perfect bitch's tongue lapping at her asshole. Revenge would be sweet.

She instructed Kelly to get on all fours and proceeded to dab the SB2 oil on her neck, temples, nipples, bellybutton, and clit. Kelly swayed a bit as her body was anointed in the mind control substance, her hair hanging down in her face. She made a weak attempt to squirm away when the nurse applied the final dose of oil to her asshole, but Tabitha had plenty of experience with difficult patients at her former job in a hospital ER, and forced the girl to stay still with a tight grip at the nape of her neck.

"She's still resisting," she whined to the doctor. "What is up with this chick?"

"It's okay," Doctor Michaels said. "Look at her. She's fully immersed now." He chuckled. "Maybe a bit too much. I'll have to recalibrate my protocol for this one."

Tabitha had to admit he was right. Kelly's mouth hung open, a tiny bit of drool escaping at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes were unfocused, her limbs loose and relaxed.

"Yeah, we've got her now," Tabitha said and hiked up her skirt again. "Stay on all fours, bitch," she said to Kelly. "I like you that way."

Kelly nodded. "Yes, Nurse."

Tabitha got to her hands and knees, backing her ass into Kelly's face. They had an audience. A couple of technicians, another nurse, and the guy who cleaned the exam rooms lingered in the hallway, eager for the show.

"Get to it, bitch!" Tabitha snapped. "Put that smart mouth to work."

"Wha?" Kelly asked, still staring at the ground.

Tabitha reached back and gave her a light slap on the cheek. "Eat my ass!"

"I don't know how; I've never done it." Kelly's lips pursed in a pout. "It's... yucky. My boyfriend always asks me to, but I say no."

"Does he eat your ass, Miss Priss?"

Kelly wrinkled her nose. "Well, yeah."

"You're a pillow princess, huh? Well, that ends now." Tabitha sighed. "Pretend you're kissing my asshole. Use a lot of tongue, like a french kiss. Don't worry. You'll do great."