The Contradiction

Billie wasn't surprised when she got the call.

It was the first Friday night that she had been scheduled off in longer than she could remember, which was more than slightly irritating, but the young and ambitious doctor was definitely not surprised when the pager buzzed halfway through dinner. Sod's law, really. There once was a time when everything was quiet in the tiny insulated world of her forensic ward. The other, faster paced specialities used to call them the accountancy department on the fourth floor. She almost fondly missed those days. Since the law clamped down on the practice of training submissives into servicehood for the highest bidder as a means to pay off their debt it had been all systems go. This new, more equal world needed more forensic doctors than there were presently on the registry. Her services were constantly required, not that Billie begrudged it when push came to shove. A few more years of this and the board would no doubt give her an entire institution to run. She was making headway, so the big wigs reassured.

"How many this time?" Billie shook the rain off and hurried down the empty hallway, her coat and handbag palmed off to the young trainee from Danbridge, Doctor Samson, who scuttled beside her. The sleep-deprived intern unfortunate enough to be stuck on the grave shift kept up as best he could beside her, leafing through the mercifully-slender admissions file.

"Just the two so far, Doctor Stone." Samson confirmed and came to a halt as his boss pulled on her white lab coat. "The first girl was in bad shape. They sent her downstairs straight away for an echocardiogram, angiogram, the works. I doubt Cardio will be giving her back any time soon. I've got the second patient set up in a suite. Full restraints, she's feisty." The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Billie paused as she fixed her stethoscope neatly around her neck. She looked her young, eager trainee up and down. It wasn't that she disliked Samson but on the list of the top five people she would kick off of a cliff given half the chance, Samson took up at least three spaces on the list on an exceedingly good day. He was just... too unreserved. Billie understood it, how difficult it could be to compartmentalise the primal urge to view the submissives through a sexualised gaze but compartmentalise it they had to. Still, Samson wasn't the worst by far. His heart was in the right place for the most part, although his lingering stare usually wasn't. But, Billie could abide it considering he was still so new into his residency. A forensic neuro-programming specialist she would make of him yet.

"I take it you think you're scrubbing in?" Billie kept her tone measured and cool.

"Well." Samson pursed his lips. "I submitted the research assignment you asked me to do, all ten thousand words of it and then some."

"Did you chase the psych evaluation I ordered for the young woman in room four?" Billie folded her arms expectantly.

"They said there was no jumping the line."

"We decondition and desensitize people who have been trained for sexual servitude, Samson. Time is money. Get my ducks in a row so we can push on with her treatment and I'll think about letting you scrub in on the next intake." Billie pushed a small, curt smile and headed down the hallway towards her newest patient. "Oh, and Samson?" She turned over her shoulder to the doldrum, sheepish intern with his hands dug firmly in his pockets. "You did a good job getting the patients brought in and sent to the right place, and for calling me as quickly as you did. I'm impressed. Next time you're up to bat, I mean it." She couldn't help but soften, slightly.

"Thanks, Billie." His mouth pushed into a shallow smile.

"We're not on a first name basis, Samson. Never call me that again." She turned on her heels and became icy cool.

Billie walked through the silent veins of the department until she arrived at the right door. She stopped in the reflection of a window, checking herself over quickly. Her light blonde hair was softly coiffed and pushed off her face, like she had maybe styled it but got caught up doing other things before she could finish making it pristine. Her lipstick was a palatable colour, somewhere between a nude pink and salmon tone. She was wearing blush along her slender cheekbones but not too much, just enough to make her blue eyes gleam a little brighter in contrast with her makeup. Vanity aside, these were all important things to double-check and preen over before meeting a new patient. Billie knew she was in the business of first impressions. Considering most of her patients were either terrified or completely broken into submission depending on how long they had been kept in the dungeons—as they were colloquially known—it was important that the first face they saw on the road to recovery was one they could trust. A face that was both soft but professionally distant, warm but cool, feeling but unfeeling. Billie knew she ticked all the boxes.

Billie glanced down to the file in her hand and read the brief notes that Samson had put together for her.

The patient was a twenty year old female, Amelia Hopkins, a former college gymnastics scholarship hopeful before a badly torn ligament took her out of contention. That was when the debts started climbing, for physiotherapy to get back on the glass knee in the beginning, then for snake oils once the physiotherapy only went so far. Billie rubbed the back of her neck and actually felt sorry for the kid. Her case wasn't the usual run of the mill opioid addiction or bratty girl who ran up the credit cards and mistakenly thought daddy back home in the suburbs would foot the bill, not that those women deserved it any more or less. Amelia just sounded like an innocent bystander, maybe. Billie knew better than to make personal assessments on clinical cases, and so despite her own first take on the situation she pushed the most human parts of herself away and forced herself to be concerned with only the job at hand.

She opened the door to the suite and flipped on the light switch. The patient, Amelia, was restrained in a prone, jackknife position on the hospital bed. She was laying in a manner which faintly resembled a nude doggy position with a soft foam cushion shoved beneath her belly. It was degrading. It was embarrassing. It was absolutely necessary in order to prevent the intake patients hurting either themselves or hospital personnel — considering most of them had been conditioned by the dungeon masters to resist law enforcement and medical help at all costs. Amelia's wrists and ankles were restrained with soft padded cuffs while a blindfold remained affixed around her head to prevent sensory overstimulation. It helped to keep patients in the jackknife position for that reason too. The pressure of body weight resting against the abdomen helped soothe the sense of panic that came with having their thighs restrained open for any procedures that may be deemed necessary, like being kept in a foetal position of sorts.

Billie noticed the heightened, fastened rhythm on the heart monitor. Amelia was clearly aware someone had entered the room, though she couldn't see whom the click of high heels belonged to. Billie paused for a moment and watched her patient's spine push up and down with the heaviness of her breathing. The dutiful doctor walked around and hushed the little patient who had gotten herself caught up in things far too big for herself with low crooning noises, careful not to touch her skin or startle her with direct contact just yet.

"It's okay. You're okay. Everything is alright, Amelia. My name is Doctor Stone and you're here with me, safe, in my reconditioning programme." Billie kept a safe distance as she incessantly reassured the trembling young woman straining against the padded cuffs. "Would you like me to remove your blindfold, Amelia?" Billie asked calmly.

The young woman chuntered and whimpered but could not form coherent words. She was a slight young woman, slender but with the dips of muscles flexing each time she strained. Strong girl, Billie thought to herself. It was a fantastic sign, all things considered. She had seen girls come through her doors either grossly malnourished or dangerously overweight depending on the appetite of the buyer they were being trained for. Billie remained hopeful it was a symptom that her new patient hadn't been kept in the dungeons for any considerable length of time. She clasped her hands and waited for Amelia to answer whether she would like the blindfold removed or not.

She would be waiting a long time, Billie realised after another minute of silence.

"Were you taught it was naughty to speak to policemen or doctors?" The girl nodded at that. "Alright," Billie swallowed, "Can you just nod or shake your head for me when I ask you a question? If you don't speak you're not breaking any rules, right?" It earned a quick desperate nod from the blindfolded, tearstained face. "Good girl, that's a good girl, you're okay." Billie exhaled deeply. "Would you like me to remove the blindfold and mouth guard? You're not going to spit at me, are you?"

Amelia nodded.

"Good. Good girl, baby steps." Billie praised as she unfastened the ties around the back of the Amelia's auburn, ginger hair. The doctor took a step back and watched Amelia's teary green eyes adjust to the bright lights, her eyes flitting and panicked and frightened. "Go slow, it's alright, you're safe." The little submissive was reassured a bit more.

Amelia didn't nod. She fluttered her eyes closed and inhaled deeply, as if she wanted to believe the words but simply knew better.

"Does anything hurt?" Billie asked.

Her head shook for no.

"Good. Are you allergic to anything?"

The girl shook for no, again.

"Good girl, you're doing very well so far. Do you need some water before we start?"

A resounding shake for no.

"Alright, you're a very easy little patient. I should count my lucky stars." Billie gave a brief, soft smile. "Amelia, I'm going to perform an intimate examination now. It might feel scary but it won't be painful, it's very important I check you over—" Billie watched two huge, wide green eyes snap open and nearly bulge out of the skull. "Can you try and be very, very brave for me? I'm going to keep you in this nice comfy position on your tummy so you don't have to watch me work. I'm going to explain everything to you as I'm touching you and all you have to do is be a good girl and try not to fight your restraints because I don't want you to hurt yourself." Billie held her breath, aware it never went painlessly or quietly with any of her patients.

Despite her instincts, utterly terrified, chewing her bottom lip hard enough to nearly split the skin, the tough little thing shakily nodded. Billie became instantly impressed.

"Good girl, that's a very good girl." Billie stroked her patient's long ginger hair and walked back out of her eyesight.

She snapped on a pair of blue gloves with a loud, thunderous crack. The poor little thing restrained on the bed trembled like her bones were as light as hummingbird wings. The foreign sounds felt like a good place to start and so Billie told her in absolute, unabridged detail everything she was doing. The bottle she was reaching for. The cap she was removing. The shaving gel she was squirting into her hands so it foamed up ready for the blonde, coarse patch of pubic hair on her patient's mound and the dusting around her exposed anus too. Billie watched her patient grow small and embarrassed, but so far she was being very brave and the doctor appreciated the effort.

Amelia finally broke down and cried when a hand found her vagina and coated her with cool, sharp smelling shaving foam. "I know it's embarrassing, I know. You'll feel like a new woman, Amelia. You'll see." Billie hoped it was true as she lathered the patient.

Billie carefully shaved the puffy lips that were straining backward and forward with the instinctive, desperate, bucking movement of Amelia's hips. It took some work. The doctor pinched an outer labia with one hand and pulled it apart, shaving the little curls away with the disposable razor. Then, the other side. The slight bubbling of arousal fluids near her vaginal opening did not go unnoticed. Pavlovian response, Billie was sure the girl had been trained to receive direct contact in such a manner despite her own desires. After a few minutes, Billie moved to her bottom and worked as slowly as necessary to stop the fidgeting girl nicking herself. When Billie was satisfied with her meticulous work, more than enough pubic hair bagged up for DNA samples and hormone testing, she trickled water along the crease of her patient's trembling bottom and gently washed the itchy little clippings from her private areas. Amelia's pudendum was soft and plump, small and pretty like a little blooming flower. The girl was gleaming like new, and Billie felt proud of her work.

"That's a good girl. Do you feel a bit better now?" Billie asked as she wiped the small fluffy towel between and around her privates. "You did so well, I'm very impressed."

"I... I..." Amelia's voice croaked with inactivity.

Billie stopped everything she was doing and leaned in to listen. "Go on, it's okay," she whispered.

"Daddy I... I need to take a break..." Amelia finally got the low, warbly words out.

"I'm not your Daddy, Honey. I'm Doctor Stone, remember?" Billie forced a small curt smile and finished wiping her inner thighs with the fluffy towel. "And we can't take a break just yet. Now we've started it's better we get everything out of the way so that you can have a nice long rest after we're done."

"Daddy..." Amelia stuttered like a broken record, her head craning forward the tighter her hands became around the restraints. "Please... I... I need a break..."

"Amelia." Billie snapped on a fresh pair of gloves with a thunderous crack, her voice a measured, authoritative tone. "I told you, I'm not your Daddy. You're here, safe, with me, okay? I just have to do a few things that feel a bit uncomfortable but only because we want to help. You're doing so well for me."

The patient wept and managed a small, uncomfortable nod.

Billie grabbed the iodine bottle and a wad of cotton gauze. She explained everything she was going to do to her sweet, brave patient as the cotton soaked up the orange liquid. How the disinfectant was very cold and wet, and that it would be lightly rubbed all over her pudendum, which were the outside parts, and just inside the labia and around the vaginal opening, which were the inside parts, and that she shouldn't be frightened because Doctor Stone was going to be very, very gentle. Billie felt the corner of her mouth twitch as the patient's tight muscles relaxed slightly. The calm, dulcet tone always worked wonders like a little magic trick in and of itself.

Billie wiped the disinfectant around Amelia's vulva to begin with. Her gloved hand moved in a gentle, circular motion until the soft pale lips were coated with dark orange disinfectant. The inner labia were next. Billie swiped through them and grabbed her patient's propped hip with her other hand to stop the girl bucking. It didn't help much. It didn't stop the tears, or the whimpers, or the tight muscles baring down as hard as they could when the iodine soaked cotton pushed just inside of her vaginal opening. But Billie held her steady anyway, thumb pressing gently into the skin on her hip, voice humming that everything was okay, that she was being a very, very good girl.

"Daddy I... I really need to..." Amelia's voice choked and wobbled and came to a crashing halt. "I need to stop..."

"I'm nearly finished, just hold on for me." Billie rubbed the cool disinfectant around her quivering anus and gave up correcting the nomenclature. "We're nearly there—"

"Lampshade!" Amelia snapped loudly and bucked forward as wet cotton pressed inside the tight neck muscles at her anus. "Lampshade, lampshade, lampshade!"

Billie continued her work as she threw the soaked cotton in the waste can. It was a lose-lose situation. Despite her own personal desires, she couldn't indulge the safeword because this wasn't a roleplay or a sexual scene. Things were running behind already. Procedures to do, paperwork to send. It wasn't something she particularly wanted to explain either. Amelia wouldn't be able to comprehend it, frightened and panicked and bucking her hips hard enough to make the restraints bruise her ankles. No, much better just to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Billie reached for the small speculum on the metal tray and checked the screw on the side was functioning.

"I'm going to place a speculum inside of your vaginal canal now, we're going to go very slow and gentle. Once it's opened, I'm going to take a few swabs from inside and then we can stop for a few minutes and take a break while I record some notes." Billie separated her tiny folds, thumbs buried either side of her parted pink lips just to be sure the tools weren't too big a calibre for the job. Amelia's vagina was small but not untouched, the speculum she had to hand would be fine. Billie drowned out the frantic, desperate repetition as best she could. "It's okay, you're alright, nearly done." She soothed.

Billie was greeted with only the tiniest bit of resistance as she pushed the lubricated speculum inside, just enough that a little pressure on the handle was necessary to open the girl up. There, she exhaled as the duck bills slipped all the way in. That's a good girl, she thought to herself. Amelia's bucking hips immediately stopped as the screw began to turn, the small mouth of her vagina widening ever so slightly with each turn of the screw, the bills opening her gleaming, pretty crevices for the doctor's attentive eye. The chuntering, desperate repetition of her sweet little word ceased. She lay still and quiet, accepting the things that needed to happen for her own good, or so Billie assumed was the case.

"You're doing so well, Amelia. It's all the way inside now, not so bad right?" She turned her attention back to the metal tray of tools containing clean swabs in little plastic bags, all ready to be sent for the labs once the deed was done. Then she heard a slight trickling sound, as if the rain outside had finally started to leak in through the roof.

"S...Sorry. Daddy I'm— I'm sorry—" Billie glanced back at her patient's propped up hips.

Amelia trembled as she wet herself, humiliated, growing smaller with shame, the stream of urine politely dribbling around the sides of the speculum wedged inside her vagina and down onto the absorbent pad someone with far more foresight had thought to place beneath her. The doctor sprung into action and shoved a small metal pan between her thighs to catch the fluid. Billie blinked and felt her brow grow heavy. Poor thing, she thought to herself. The franticness of the safeword suddenly made sense. Billie waited patiently until Amelia had finished voiding, a hand steadying the pan between her legs while the other rubbed small soothing circles on the bottom of her back.

"It's okay, it's alright, you didn't do anything wrong," Billie whispered and put the pan out of sight once the girl was finished. "You didn't do anything wrong, I promise I've seen lots of worse things." Billie rubbed her hip reassuringly.

"I'm— I'm a naughty girl." Amelia's head grew slack and weighty.

"No, Honey." Billie kept her voice calm and upbeat. "You didn't do anything wrong, you're okay, no problems here, little one." The word slipped out of her mouth before her brain registered how inappropriate it was. Billie clenched her eyes and wanted to kick herself.

"Please don't..." Amelia choked on the words and gasped, suddenly frightened. "Daddy please don't hit me with the cane..."