chapter 7

The walk from your car to the probation office is less than a hundred yards, but it feels like miles. The subtle pressure of the smooth steel plate between your legs is just enough to make you adjust your stride, making you spread your thighs slightly, causing your hips to sway a little more than usual. Its just one of the ways the belt is constantly reminding you of your predicament, you muse resentfully.

Sighing deeply, you wonder whether it is your imagination, or whether the device feels a little tighter this morning. You don't care to try to remember how much ice cream you ate last night before you passed out on the couch, exhausted from eating, and still tormented by the insistent need in your loins, but it was at least four quarts.

You push open the glass doors with one hand, holding the clear plastic bag self-consciously in the other. Your heart sinks as you see that the waiting room is already three-quarters full with anxious looking women waiting for their appointments. As you approach the reception desk, the same cheerful young woman greets you with a smile.

"Checking in?" She chimes loudly. "Oh, and I see you're surrendering that unauthorized vibrator!" You feel all eyes in the room turn to stare at you as you hand over the zip-lock bag with the colorful rabbit style vibe in it. You flush with the humiliation at the public disclosure of your most intimate vice as you mumble your confirmation. To your horror the young receptionist squeals loudly with enthusiasm. "Oh! I LOVE rabbits - I have one JUST like this - I ADORE it! The way the ears -" Seeing your embarrassment she realizes her faux pas. "Oh I'm SO sorry! That was insensitive! Don't worry! You'll enjoy it all the more when you get it back after your probation is over! Let me log it for you and I will have a receipt ready for you when you come out. You can go right through - your probation officer is ready for you."

You nod, grateful for the privacy of the corridor as you head to the treatment room. You know intellectually that every woman in that room understands your plight, and none of them would judge you for owning a vibrator, but you still feel shame at your most private indulgence being made public. Arriving at the familiar door you knock, surprised to hear a male voice command you to "Come in."

"Oh -" You stammer as you see the man look you up and down before consulting his notes. "- am - am I in the right room?" You manage. "I'm here to see Nurse Anders."

He's wearing the white coat of a medical professional, and without looking up from his clipboard he sighs. "And here was me thinking you were here for your probation check-in. If I were you Fanny I would let your probation officer ask the questions. Now, are you going to suck my cock now, or later?"

"What? I - erm - I mean - I'm sorry? Is that? I mean - am I required to?" You stammer in fear, confused by the lewd question.

"Later then." He says, putting down his clipboard and staring at you with a look of irritation.

"What? I - erm - I mean, if I'm required to then of course - I didn't mean -"

"'Required to?' No Fanny, you're not 'required to'. Although some women think that pleasing their probation officer is a good thing. Take your clothes off and assume the position Fanny."

"I'm sorry - " You stammer as you try to orient yourself to the situation. "If you'd like I can - "

"I don't know what standards Nurse Anders set Fanny, but I gave you an order, and I expect it to be obeyed promptly."

Startled and confused, you stand up straight, a knot of fear tightening in your belly. "Yes. Yes Sir." You manage as you lift your dress over your head nervously. Your discomfort at being exposed in front of this man is compounded by your concern that you have made a poor first impression. Placing your dress on the chair, you reach behind your back, fumbling with the clasp on your bra. Reflexively you protect your breasts with one arm in a futile gesture of modesty as you remove your bra, placing it on the chair as you kick off your shoes.

You stumble as you climb into the examination chair, feeling the cold padding against your naked body as you lie back, your feet hunting awkwardly for the stirrups. You're painfully aware of the shame of your belted crotch as you burry your urge to struggle, breathing deeply to subdue the feelings of panic as you let the man secure first your ankles, then your wrists.

With the tight velcro straps in place you feel yourself relax slightly. Your dilemma is over - the window for resistance is closed, and you are completely powerless now. You feel his eyes cooly evaluate your exposed body, and shiver as you feel the click of the belt's release. You curse the ease with which the steel plates cleave to his key, remembering the hours you have spent searching for a way to open the unkind device.

Your body tenses as he places his hand on your tender and neglected pussy. You breath deeply, feelings of anxiety mixing with the cool pleasure of human touch on your tender vulva. You look into his eyes, almost apologizing for your helplessness as you are unable to stop your pelvis from pressing upwards to meet his palm. You moan softly, an almost cat-like purr as his fingertips lightly graze your inguens, making your spine arch as your sexual craving overcomes your resentment and fear.

"So." He says, matter-of-factly, continuing to gently coax your body's arousal response. "Nurse Anders prescribed drugs to help you manage your punishment did she? Tell me how you responded to them."

You whimper softly as one of his fingers traces the cleft of your labia. Your swollen lips yield without resistance, beginning to moisten with your body's eagerness for stimulation. "I-I don't know S-Sir." You stumble, trying to form words as your mind is consumed with the naive hope of sexual release. "I-I took one pill yesterday and - it felt like - like my sexual need moved to my belly. I couldn't satisfy the hunger, but while I was eating it was - it was easier."

You close your eyes, breaking eye contact with the man. Your body spasms involuntarily at the sensation of his finger slipping inside you. You feel the pressure first at the bottom of your vulva, his finger overcoming the slight resistance and penetrating your soft, moist, hungry hole. The sensation is exquisite and consumes your consciousness. As he gently withdraws his digit you feel the agony of its absence, your hips immediately searching for the satisfaction of even one finger in your aching cunt. He divides your labia once more with his finger, and then gently grazes your clitoris in a way that makes you sob and bite your lip with lustful need.

"What did you eat?" The man asks, letting his finger linger for a moment on your inflamed nub, teasing you cruelly with the promise of unbearable pleasure.

Trying to focus, you let your body writhe with animal instinct. "Four!" You squeal, your most intimate responses laid bare to him. "I ate four quarts of ice cream. Chocolate, and cookie dough. Sir." You pant with frustrated craving as his touch retreats, his hands resting on your mons and on the round of your belly.

"Please! Please! I can't bear it! Please Sir! I need to cum please oh please let me cum!" You babble. "And then two more. Two more tubs this morning. And three bowls of cereal. Sir. OH!" You shriek as you feel his fingers play on your fevered vulva again. You ache with arousal, panting eagerly as you feel the first faint contractions of impending orgasm, hope building inside you that he will show you mercy and grant you release. You press against his enthralling touch, wrestling with whether to try to hide how close you are to release, more certain now that you are passed the point of no return, crying out in anticipation of a wave of pleasure crashing over you!

Instead, your body is wracked with spasms of withdrawal as the stimulation ends. He shakes his head, then steps away from your spread legs letting your body flap wretchedly on the table as you beg him to end your suffering. Approaching your head. He calmly adjusts the chair and you feel your head descend, your legs and hips rising. You let your head fall back in the rest, and you look up, making eye contact as he looks down at you condescendingly. You look into his eyes, ashamed to hear yourself pleading with him to continue his casual violation of your body, but as you watch him, upside down in your field of view, he unbuckles his pants, pulling out a cock that makes you shudder with uninvited hunger.

Without the need for command you feel your mouth open, your body eager to degrade itself for even the slightest chance of release from your torment. "This first." He says, letting you see him place three pills on his hand.

"No! Please! Not three! One was too intense - its too much!" You try to plead, some control of your response returning in a panic, but your protest is smothered by one of his hands on your jaw, holding your mouth open while he places the pills on your tongue. His firm grip closes your mouth as your body shakes with terror, your eyes darting desperately as you grunt your objection, determined not to swallow the insidious drug.

He smiles confidently, his hand continuing to hold your mouth closed, pushing your head into the padded rest. You sob in frustrated humiliation as you feel the pills dissolving into a chalky paste on your tongue, realizing that your small act of defiance has been useless. After a few moments he releases your jaw and you gasp with defeated relief, drawing breath as you feel the drug dissolve into the sensitive membranes of your mouth. The bitter anger at being outsmarted again makes you grunt and tug at your bonds in frustration, the futile action only reinforcing your complete powerlessness.