Chris Rawlins was a thirty-one year old gynecologist. He was also a blackmailer and a rapist, but really that was just a technicality. After all, he'd never been arrested, much less convicted. He knew precisely what he'd done, but until and unless someone ever managed to prove it, he was as innocent as fresh fallen snow. Guilty was for those who got themselves caught.
Chris was a sociopath. He knew that, he accepted it. He enjoyed it. He lived a life without the restrictions of morals and remorse. He saw it as an advantage. There was nothing he couldn't do, no line he couldn't cross in order to survive. In order to ensure the best possible outcome for himself, in any situation. Care and respect for his fellow man? HA! He only got one life, and with all the pleasures and luxuries the world possessed, he wasn't going to waste one second of it worrying about the feelings of others. He was going to suck the world dry of every ounce of enjoyment that he could, while he could. Chris wasn't worried about an afterlife. He didn't believe in hell. But he figured if there was a hell, that was where he wanted to go anyways. He was sure it held far more interesting people. The idea of sitting around heaven all day stagnating in some sort of peaceful bliss with angels and the religious goody two-shoes was enough to make him gag.
But he wasn't stupid, not like most of the pychos cluttering prisons. He was never impulsive, and he had no intentions of being caught. After all, he intended for his life to go on for quite awhile longer yet. And he wouldn't be able to enjoy that life nearly as much in prison. That wasn't to say that he didn't do things that society considered repulsive, horrifying, and most definitely illegal. He was just very careful about it, and did an excellent job of covering his tracks.
For a monster, which Chris had no problems in seeing himself as, he'd been born extremely lucky. Not only had he grown to be very attractive, but extremely smart as well, along with a couple other fortunate attributes. By the time he was fifteen, he was already in college, and fucking cute coeds in their late teens and early twenties. He'd aimed to be a doctor from the start. Not out of any desire to help or heal people, but for the money. He'd known even then that he had no intentions of living his life as a poor man, and being able to throw those all important initials in front of your name seemed the best way to guarantee a comfortable life. Oh, he could've tried to become a corporate executive, or the next big inventor or entrepreneur, and he had enough intelligence to stand a chance at making it, but there were no guarantees there. Genius and a business degree didn't guarantee you a fortune, there was still a lot of luck involved in business. And as for trying to start an invention or business from scratch, there was even more luck involved there. Plenty of brilliant people had devoted their entire lives to trying and still failed. It all depended on the changing markets, what investors you were able to find, what connections you were lucky enough to meet and form. For every success story that made millions if not billions, there were far far more failures. No, Chris had decided to go the route that offered the best guarantee of success, even if the potential earnings weren't quite as high. And that was becoming a doctor. He hadn't decided on taking up gynecology as his specialty until much later, after he'd already entered his internship.
By the time Chris turned eighteen he'd already started to become sexually jaded. He was all the way there before he was even very far into his early twenties. He had only himself to blame though. When you were very attractive, very confident, and very very good at manipulation, it wasn't that hard to convince girls to do pretty much whatever you wanted them to. You broke down their taboos, painted over their morals, stared down at that giant line society had drawn in the dirt and stepped over it, dragging the girl after you into greater and greater depths of depravity. The more kinky and twisted the pleasures he enjoyed, the more twisted he wanted them to be, and the more utterly boring plain ordinary sex became. Chris never latched onto any particular perversion or fetish, he enjoyed them all. There were few kinks that he couldn't find himself getting into. He reveled in them all. Until he finally reached the point where it was the pure perversity that he enjoyed, the raw wickedness that turned him on. He could still have sex with random girls if he chose, could still get a hard-on and screw their brains out, and could achieve orgasm doing so, but it didn't really do anything for him. It might be pleasurable, but it was boring, a way to relieve himself and nothing more, nothing worth enjoying or remembering. It wasn't exciting, it didn't invigorate him, and rarely could he motivate himself to do it except when the pressure from lack of sex built up. No, he'd quickly discovered that as jaded as he'd become, he needed more. He needed the thrill of the forbidden and the obscene, the intoxicating pleasure of doing something the world at large considered unbelievably immoral, things that most people considered vile and sinful. It was better than any drink or drug. The sort of thing that was worth remembering, and reliving over and over again in his mind.
The problem was, rarely did you get the chance to enjoy the truly perverse pleasures. At least, to enjoy them without drawing the cops down on you. When he'd finally chosen gynecology as his specialty, he'd already had vague notions of what he wanted that position for. Of what he could do with it, if he set it up right. He already knew that he couldn't do it with any patient connected to him directly, that would just be flat out stupid. But with the proper expertise, if he passed himself off as someone else, in a different place, the sky was the limit. And oh had he been right. Over the past half a dozen years, he'd taken a few trips like the one he was on right now, enjoying anywhere from a couple to more than half a dozen women on each one, and he hadn't been caught yet. He still occasionally enjoyed perversities of other natures, but this had become his comfort zone. He'd turned it into an artform of sorts and mastered it. And while the women he'd been with normally had almost all faded from his memory, he could remember almost every woman he'd been with this way in near crystal clear detail.
He liked to choose married women, or at least those in committed relationships, it enhanced the pleasure for him. He didn't outright rape them, he hadn't committed direct forcible rape in a long time. It was too easy and also far too dangerous, much too likely to get him caught. Instead, he'd come up with a way to fuck them without them ever truly realizing it, at least the first time. A special few he brought back for more, and eventually made them completely his before leaving.
The thought brought a smile to his face as he stood in the office of another gynecologist in Indiana. Chris's own practice was in Los Angeles. For his pleasure trips though he liked to choose smaller, more out of the way places. It all started with getting dirt on the targets he'd need to blackmail. First he selected a number of likely targets across the continental US. Then he made use of a very good and very discreet group of detectives, who couldn't even be said to be an agency because they worked strictly under the table and didn't always use the most legal of methods in their investigative practices. He'd never given them his name, and they'd never asked. He had a client number, and that was all. He paid them in cash, and they were quite expensive, but they provided excellent service, and they'd never let him down yet. They dug into his targets, did all the necessary research, and if there were any skeletons in the closet, they found them. That was what he needed, other gynecologists who had something they needed kept hidden, something they couldn't afford to have released to the public, with at least one nurse who could be similarly blackmailed. At that point, targets selected, he would create a fake identity, complete with ID and degree, and then move on to the next step.
Having taken a vacation from his actual practice, he would head out to wherever his targets resided, proof of their darkest secrets in hand, and confront them. He gave them a very simple choice. Either they would go along with what he wanted, or he would reveal whatever they wanted kept hidden to the world. Not once yet had he ever been refused, but then given the kind of dirt he made sure he had before approaching his targets to begin with, there was no surprise there.
The office Chris currently stood in belonged to a Dr. Harold Crosby. Crosby had no idea who Chris truly was, he knew only the fake identity Chris had assumed for now, and that was the way Chris wanted it. More than one doctor had gone down for what Chris had done in a given place well after Chris had already departed, which is why Chris never stayed on a trip for longer than two or three weeks. Most of Chris's ... Special patients never got up the nerve to speak up, but every so often there'd be one who'd find the courage to go to the cops with a complaint months down the road after it had happened. Of course, by the time it was investigated, Chris was already long gone, with nothing whatsoever to lead back to him, not even the doctor and nurse who'd been used in his scheme.
Dr. Crosby was guilty of prescribing painkillers to patients who didn't exist. His nurse was guilty of passing the prescriptions on to her boyfriend, a drugdealer who got the painkillers out on the street. They were all making quite a bit of money off of it, for now. It was extremely foolish though. It was only a matter of time until Crosby was caught. Sooner or later the drugdealing boyfriend would get arrested and would give them up, or a pharmacist would notice the number of drugs being prescribed by a certain dcotor, or some accountant would notice discrepancies in records, it was always something. It was almost impossible to pull off something like that without leaving traces, which is why Chris had never done it for extra cash himself. And if Crosby had been one of those rare few who had found some way to cover the tracks of such an operation, the detectives Chris had hired never would've been able to find it all out in the first place. Sooner or later Crosby's secret was going to be exposed, but Crosby himself was too stupid to realize that. For now both doctor and nurse believed the secret could be kept safe, and they were both terrified of prison, so Chris was going to use that to his advantage while he still could. When the doctor had found out what Chris would do, he'd been horrified, the nurse had been far less so. Much more pragmatic about the whole thing, that one. Regardless though, once it had been clear that Chris not only knew what they were up to, but had evidence of their crimes that he could send to the cops, they'd both been all too quick to agree to help him in whatever ways he needed.
What he'd needed from Dr. Crosby was simple. Chris would be pretending to be a colleague of Crosby's, a Dr. Frank Cash, who'd be temporarily helping with Crosby's practice. Crosby would be pretending to be overworked, and overloaded with patients. And Chris, aka Dr. Cash, would be helping him out by filling in for him with certain patients over the course of the next few weeks, until the case load settled back down. All Crosby had to do was let Chris stay in his office, pick out certain patients to examine in his stead, grant him the use of one of his exam rooms, and back Chris's story to anyone who asked, in fact going so far as to assure them that he'd known Frank Cash for a long time and that the man was one of the finest doctors he'd ever met. Simple. He never had to involve himself with what Chris actually did, and in a few weeks it would all be over. The nurse had a more direct role. She would be there for the examinations, acting to reassure the patients with her very presence that nothing untoward was going on, and she'd also need to explain something to the patients which would sound far more believeable coming from her. So just yesterday he'd spent the entire day going over with her precisely what it was she'd need to say, and drilling into her head the fact that she had to remain completely cool and collected, that despite what she'd be seeing she couldn't give any sign whatsoever to the patients that anything out of the normal was going on. Only once he'd been absolutely certain that she had it all down and would be able to hold up when the time came had he been satisfied.
That morning, before the practice had opened, he'd hidden a small recorder in the waiting room, capable of transmitting both video and sound. Chris was now sitting in Crosby's office as the good doctor went about treating his regular patients. On the desk before him was his own personal laptop, receiving two sets of signals. One from the waiting room, the other from three different recorders he'd hidden in a particular exam room that he'd ordered Crosby to leave empty for his sole usage. Right now he was just watching the waiting room as the patients entered and exited. He could be a patient man when he needed to be, and sometimes it could take a couple days before he'd spot a likely target. There was no point in rushing things out of raw excitement and picking a target that didn't meet his standards. He knew he'd enjoy things much more if he just waited for the perfect one to come along.
It was nearing the end of the day when he finally spotted a likely target. Blonde, rather pretty face in a girl-next-door sort of way, yet with body language that spoke to a bit of insecurity. Chris watched as the woman seated herself in the waiting room, studied her. Right away he noticed the ring on her left hand. She was either engaged or married, good. She had light green eyes, a cute nose, well-shaped features. All-in-all her face gave off a vague air of innocence, a sort of sweetness that definitely enhanced the girl-next-door vibe. Her clothes weren't very revealing, but from what he could see she didn't have a bad body either. And from the way she held herself in the chair, the faint nervousness she showed in her movements, the way she looked at and reacted to those few others in the waiting room, told him a lot about her personality. He wouldn't know with certainty until he had her in the exam room, but she was the perfect candidate.
Reaching over to the side of the desk he pressed a button on another device he'd set there earlier. Linda Braden, the nurse he'd roped into this scheme, was carrying a short-range receiver that would beep in response. It was a way to page her without leaving any sorts of phone records.
It took a little over a minute, but finally the office door opened and the nurse slipped in. Mrs. Braden was a very attractive woman in her early thirties, but in a far more sultry way from the target he'd just selected. Linda had dark hair, smoky grey eyes, and features which almost always drew your eyes to her full sensual lips. Around 5'6", with easily D cup breasts, under different circumstances she might've made an interesting target herself. But he had someone else in mind at the moment. Beckoning the nurse around to his side of the desk, he pointed the blonde woman out to her on the computer screen.
"I want you to take that woman through the usual procedures, get her into my exam room, inform Dr. Crosby that I'll be taking over this woman's case, and then bring me her chart," he told Linda in a smooth, even voice.
"Yes sir. Doctor," she corrected herself, her expression betraying nothing as she gave a short nod before turning and leaving the room.
Turning his attention back to the laptop, Chris switched the video from the waiting room over to the exam room. He didn't have to wait very long before the nurse led the woman into the room. He watched her take her blood pressure, listened as she asked a few routine questions and surprisingly a few non-routine ones, and all the while he studied the woman, her reactions, and her body language. Everything he saw pointed toward her being a viable candidate, and the more it was confirmed in his mind, the more excited he found himself getting. Enough that he had to focus on taking long deep breaths for a moment, forcing himself to calm. He had to stay in complete control, had to retain his professional expression and demeanor. His cue wasn't far off, and he needed to be completely composed for his first impression on the woman.
He'd just finished regaining complete composure when he saw Linda point the woman to an exam gown in the corner and then excuse herself from the room. Chris almost felt like he had icewater in his veins as he watched the woman begin to undress, which was how it should be. That icy feeling running through him was a part of his control, and helped him manage himself until the time was right. It allowed him to survey the woman with an almost mechanical detachment, without letting hormones start to build up and interfere with his thinking.
And as the woman slipped out of her clothes, Chris found that she did have a very nice body. She was perhaps 5'7", but slim, with firm breasts that he'd have guessed were around a C cup, capped by delicious-looking rosy pink nipples. She had no pubic hair, she either shaved or waxed it entirely. And she had a firm ass as well, which told him she excersized enough to keep it that way.
Linda came back into the office while Chris was watching the blonde woman undress, and he just held up a finger to indicate that the nurse should wait, continuing to watch with a critical eye until the woman had slipped completely into the exam gown. Only then did he finally turn his attention to Linda and beckon her over. The nurse approached and held out the chart to him, which he took and quickly flipped through.
Mary Vaille, twenty-six years old. Married for over three years, no children as of yet. She'd had a clean bill of health in the past, and was in today for a regular run-of-the-mill exam. Chris looked over the chart carefully, nodded to himself, and finally turned his attention to Linda. "I noticed you tossed in a little small talk with the patient along with the usual questions. You know her?" he queried.
"Only through the job, I've usually been the nurse to handle her since she started coming here over five years ago. I've always added the small talk to try to help her feel a little more comfortable. She's always seemed to appreciate the friendliness, and she seems to think a little more highly of me for it," Linda answered. She was telling the truth, Chris had picked up on enough of her signals the day before to tell.
"Excellent, then she should trust you all the more for it. That only helps things. Now, you still remember what you need to say and do, every detail?" Chris asked, meeting her eyes with a cold, intense gaze.
"I remember. I won't screw up," Linda replied, her expression neutral. She met his gaze head on for several seconds, but finally averted her eyes. He believed the assessment he'd made of her yesterday was accurate. She was either emotionally numb, or a bit of a socio herself. She may or may not have moral objections to what she'd be helping him do, but if she did they weren't strong enough to make her feel repulsed by it or guilty about it. She'd simply accepted it, far better and far easier than Crosby had. In truth, Chris thought she was probably emotionally submissive and dependant. She needed to latch on to others, needed to follow someone else's lead. It would explain her lousy choice in a boyfriend, and her going along with Crosby's foolishness even though she otherwise seemed like a fairly smart woman. It would also explain her easy acceptance of her role in Chris's scheme. He projected strength, confidence, and she followed it. Even if he hadn't had evidence of her being part of a felony, he might've been able to convince her to go along with his scheme despite. Yes, she definitely would've made an interesting target under different circumstances.
"Good, because you know what will happen if you do," Chris told her with a casual smile, before reaching out and hitting a few buttoms on the keyboard of his laptop. A symbol quickly appeared in the corner of the screen, confirming to him that the video feeds from the exam room were now recording, and would capture everything that happened for his reviewing pleasure later. Only then did he finally rise from his chair, adding "Let's go introduce Mrs. Vaille to her new doctor."
As they exited the office, Chris schooled his expression into precisely what he wanted it to be. Bored yet friendly, as if he was a nice guy in the middle of a routine he'd been through thousands of times before. First impressions were key in situations like this. The woman was already probably slightly uncomfortable from the thought of the traditional exam, his appearance and manner had to make her more comfortable, not less. He was a new doctor, an unknown, he had to put her at ease, make her relax and place in him the usual trust that went with his position and authority. If his manner put her ill at ease, or made her mistrust him, thing became much much more difficult.
They walked to the exam room together, and Chris gestured for Linda to enter first. The sight of the nurse would offer comfort, reassurance. Taking a deep breath as the nurse walked in and making certain one last time that his expression was where he wanted, only then did he follow her through the door.
Mary Vaille's eyes were fixed on him, and he knew what she saw. A caucasian man that, though just over thirty, was still often confused for being in his mid to late twenties. He stood around 5'10", with medium-length dark brown hair, and bright blue eyes. His eyes were probably his best feature, "innocent yet alluring" he'd had one girl describe them once. He'd also had quite a few girls tell him he had the most beautiful eyes they'd ever seen. If eyes were truly windows to the soul, than monsters must be beautiful things, because his eyes showed nothing of the dark mind that lurked beneath the surface. Chris had a fit body, although the blue scrubs he was wearing didn't show it off much. His features were finely sculpted, not rough in the slightest. In fact, he'd heard them described as pretty more often than handsome, and they gave him a very attractive but vaguely androgynous look. That actually helped him a great deal in what he did, because while not all girls were into that particular type of look, they almost universally found it non-threatening. Had he looked like a bad boy, however attractive he might've been, they would've been far less likely to relax and trust him in the very short time they'd be around him in this kind of atmosphere. Instead, he appeared harmless. He'd even had a few patients assume he was gay. That made them relax far more easily, made them much less likely to grow suspicious later. In fact, as she looked at him, Mary's expression showed confusion, but not an increase in nervousness. Good.
"Mrs. Vaille, hi. I'm Dr. Frank Cash," he told the woman, offering a friendly smile, keeping his expression fixed. He couldn't seem to be trying too hard, it had to seem like he was just treating one more patient in a sea of others.
"Uhm, hi," she responded, still looking confused but not nervous. "Where's Dr. Crosby?"
"Unfortunately, because of a few complications his patients have had lately, Dr. Crosby's case load has gotten backed up. I'm a colleague of his that he asked to come in and help him with it until things got settled. If you like, I'm more than capable of taking care of your exam in his stead. Or, if you're uncomfortable having another doctor perform it, you're free to reschedule your appointment instead, but it could be a few weeks to a month before Dr. Crosby is able to see you himself," Chris explained in a calm, steady voice. It was important that he offered the woman that choice. They couldn't feel pressured to let him perform the exam, like they were being forced into the use of a strange doctor. That was almost certain to put them in a bad state of mind. Instead, he gave them the sense that it was their decision. That they were free to leave, and that they chose for themselves to go through with the exam. It also showed him an important aspect of their personality, because if they didn't choose to let him do the exam, then odds were they were too suspicious and uncomfortable about using a different doctor to have made workable targets after all. It could be said that this was the first of a few tests that helped him decide for certain that a target was the right one for his special attentions. If a woman failed this test, she got to rechedule as he'd said. If she failed any of the later tests, he concluded the usual exam and then just let her go without moving on to the far more interesting part. He needed women that fit one of a number of very specific mental profiles, because if there was a problem, he couldn't afford it being until after his pleasure trip had concluded and he was already gone.
He saw her mulling it over for several seconds, saw her studying his features as she considered. He knew what was running through her head. She'd already worked her schedule around to come here today, had already gotten nervous about having to go through the exam. She'd already come here and waited. Did she really want to put it off and have to do it all over again when she could get through it now if she just trusted in the cute young doctor? "Alright, Dr. Cash, I guess for today, you're my doctor," she finally answered.
"Great, let's get started then," Chris replied, offering her another smile and maintaining the same bored friendly expression. Over the next several minutes he asked her several more routine questions and ran the boring initial basics of the exam in a methodical professional manner. The entire time he studied her responses. She took direction well, acting quickly and without hesitation, a very good sign. She seemed to relax a bit as it went on, seemed to warm up a little around him, another very good sign.
Then came the time for breast exam. She seemed a little nervous, but from what he read from her eyes and expression, it was much more likely to be because he was attractive, which Dr. Crosby was not, than because she was uncomfortable with him. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself as he had her open her gown to expose both her breasts, and he had to resist the urge to use the same calming method. Instead he just narrowed his eyes a little and focused, once more working on getting his blood to act more like ice water as he reached in and his fingers came in contact with the soft flesh of the woman's right breast. He had to give the woman one thing, she had fantastic tits. Decent size, great shape, and nice perky responsive nipples. The edge of his finger only barely brushed against her nipple and he could feel it stiffen a little even from that much contact.
This was where the second test came in, and everything so far had indicated he should go ahead with it. He knew how to conduct a proper purely professional breast exam, but instead he went just a little farther. Letting his fingers slide over the skin of her breast just a bit more than necessary, letting his hand come in contact with her nipple a bit more than it probably should. Not enough so that it was clearly deliberate, after all he didn't want it to be obvious by any means, he did it just enough so that there would still be a clear question in her mind whether or not it was accidental, while still getting a bit more of a feel of her breast than a normal doctor would during the exam. And that was the test, if she raised a complaint even though the prolonged contact might be accidental, the test was failed, as she proved herself to be too likely to be a problem. If she kept quiet and simply accepted the contact, she passed. And Mary Vaille passed with flying colors, not only did she not raise an objection, but by the time he was done with her right breast her nipple was as stiff as if it had just had ice rubbed over it, and she was ever so slightly flushed. She definitely found him attractive, alright. And not only that, but she was able to enjoy the contact despite the situation. Definitely a great sign. He repeated the process on her left breast, again using just a bit more contact than was professional, but keeping the friendly but bored expression on his face the entire time. He barely had to touch her left nipple before it was completely hard, and her flush deepened a little as his fingers slid lightly and deftly over the soft skin of her breast. By the time he had her close the top of the gown, he had to repress a a smile of a far more predatory sort. He was almost certain this target would pan out.
"No lumps, no abnormalities. Everything seems normal so far," he told her as he pulled back. "Alright, please lay down and put your feet in the stirrups."
Turning to the nurse, he gestured for Linda to bring a tray that was sitting in the corner of the room over. Then turning back, he grabbed a nearby stool and pulled it over to the foot of the table as Mary complied with his request, guiding her feet into the stirrups and in so doing exposing the bare pussy underneath her gown to him. The stirrups were positioned a bit higher over the table than usual, but not so much that the patient was likely to notice. However, it did cause the positioning of the exam gown to block even more of her view of what was going on between her legs than usual, which would be important later. Linda pulled the tray over beside the stool, her face still carefully neutral, and with a nod of acknowledgement he motioned her back to her earlier spot.
Reaching into a box on the tray's second shelf, he pulled out a pair of latex gloves and began slipping them on. Now would come the final test. Glancing at Mary's face over the gown between her feet, he found she still looked a little nervous, and he gave her a reassuring smile. "Ready?" he asked, waiting for her nod before he picked up the tube of lubricant from the top of the tray, squirted some onto his gloves, and then carefully reached in.
Once more he went just a bit outside the norm, as he examined her vulva, clit, and the hot gash between with gloved fingers. Again he was very familiar with how to do a proper exam, but again he used just a bit more contact than necessary. He let his fingers rub against the lips of her cunt just a bit more than he should, let his fingers stroke her clit just a little as he examined it. Again just enough that it could still be mistaken for an accident, and again with the express purpose of seeing whether she raised a complaint or not. Not only did she not say a word, but her clit stiffened a little with the stroking. Repressing another smile, he positioned the tip of his gloved index finger at the entrance to her pussy and gently pressed inwards, just watching as his finger quickly vanished into the married woman, feeling her warm tunnel enveloping more and more of his finger through the latex, until it was finally inside her to the third knuckle. She was decently tight, not extremely tight, but enough to tell him that her husband's cock was probably only average in terms of thickness. Carefully he rotated his finger, feeling along the inner walls of her vagina. Then, to complete the test, he slid his finger just a little bit in and out of her pussy a few times, glancing up at her face as he did so. Her eyes were closed and she was taking deep breaths again, but she didn't say a word. She definitely passed.
Now came the part that didn't help the mood much, but was necessary for the deception to come. Placing a worried look on his face, which Mary should be able to plainly read when she eventually looked, he reached over and got the speculum from the nearby tray. He did that particular part of the exam, including the cervical swab, in a purely professional manner. However, he made sure to take note of the placement of her cervix and the depth of the vaginal channel. While it wasn't nearly as deep as it would be when she was fully aroused, nor how deep it could become with a proper pounding, Chris had become very adept over time at judging just how much a woman would likely be able to handle, and just how much they wouldn't. It was the final determining factor, and there'd been a number of women he'd ruled out because he felt they wouldn't be able to handle the special examination. However, Mary was just deep enough that he figured once she was properly aroused, she'd be able to handle it, with some work. The entire time he kept that worried expression on his face, and by the time he withdrew the speculum and turned his eyes back to her face, he could see her watching him with a worried look on her face as well.
"Is something wrong?" she asked him before he'd even had a chance to say anything.
Chris placed the speculum back on the tray, making it seem for a few seconds as if he was considering his words as he slipped his gloves off. "I think you may have developed a condition called varcotropathartic mellozocranthynocysm," he told her, a lie. There was no such condition, but it had a complex name, which was important. In the day and age of the internet, if you told someone they had a strange disease, they'd be looking up everything they could about it before the end of the day. He'd come up with the name because by the time the women he dealt with got home, most of them couldn't remember precisely how it was pronounced, and those who could remember would be confused about how precisely it was spelled. And the beauty of it was, even if they did remember the proper pronounciation and guessed right at the spelling, most of them would still assume they'd gotten the spelling wrong when they couldn't find anything, even after trying multiple spelling variations. And if any of them ever did figure out the condition didn't exist, odds were it wouldn't be until they spoke with another doctor and asked them about it, well after he was already long gone.
"I've never heard of that. Is it bad?" Mary asked, her worry clear in her voice.
"It was discovered less than a year ago. It's caused by some new bacterial mutations. You see, these bacteria lodge themselves within the vaginal wall and over time begin to cause complications with the surrounding tissue and immune system, which can lead to some really bad infections and a host of other medical problems. Nothing life-threatening though. And you're lucky that if it does prove to be this condition, we've caught it at a very early stage and it's easily treatable. The complications can take weeks, even months to begin to occur, and it's only once they have that it becomes much more difficult to treat," he informed her. That should about do it, he needed it to sound important, but he didn't want her outright panicked. "Unfortunately," he added, "Testing for it is still in it's infancy."
That was enough to concern her. "But you can test for it, right, doctor?" she asked, sounding even more worried.
"Well, we currently have two working methods of testing. The first involves taking just a few skin cells from the inner walls of the vagina, a harmless process I assure you, and then sending them off to a lab for analysis. Unfortunately, it can often take a month to six weeks before you get results, by which time the bacteria could've already begun causing complications, which would make treatment far more difficult. The other method of testing uses a device that was developed only recently. With it's help, I can do an extensive examination and have results in less than an hour. And if it turns out you do have the condition in it's early stage, I can give you some medication that'll clear it up and have you cured within a few days. However, the device and the exam are a little invasive, and some women can find it uncomfortable, embarrassing, and even a little painful," he explained to her.
"And I don't suppose you could just give me the medication without the exam?" she asked, smiling wryly to try to cover up her nervousness.
"Unfortunately no. Legally I can't prescribe you drugs for a condition that I'm not certain you have. That's why we're required to test for it first," he replied evenly.
She nodded, as if she'd expected as much. She seemed to be trying to build up her courage. "Alright, I guess I'll do the exam. What exactly does it involve?" she finally asked, still clearly nervous.
"Great. You've got nothing to worry about, Mrs. Vaille. You might not even have the condition, and even if you do, like I said we'll have it cleared up in no time. I need to get the device from storage. The nurse will expain the details of the exam while I'm gone. You're going to be fine," he told her, offering her another friendly smile and reaching out to give the side of her knee a reassuring pat. She seemed a little relieved as she stared at his face, finally nodding and offering a small smile in return.
Turning, he strode confidently from the room, only to hurry down the hall to the office once he'd closed the door behind him. Slipping into the office, he moved over to the desk and dropped into his chair, turning up the volume on the laptop so he could listen in on the audio feed and watch Mary's reactions while Linda went over everything.
Linda had just started in on the speech that had been prepared yesterday, the audio picked it up mid-sentence. "Take anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour," she was saying. "See, the device is inserted into the vagina, it takes bacterial readings from the vaginal canal, and it's readings get displayed every so often at the base of the device. Unfortunately it takes a varying number of readings to get definitive results, that's why the procedure can take differing amounts of time. Also, and this is the embarrassing part, in order to take proper readings, the device requires steady friction. The response of the vaginal walls over time is how it takes it's readings and determines whether the bacteria is present," Linda told her. Chris smiled a little. That was why it was so important for this speech to come from a female nurse while he was out of the room. It sounded far more believable that way. A number of his special patients would've had much greater difficulty buying it had it come from him.
"What do you mean by friction, exactly?" Mary asked.
Linda even had the grace to blush a little, excellent. "It means that the device has to move back and forth within the vaginal canal. It's the only way to create the proper friction. I know, I know," Linda said, holding up her hands at Mary's incredulous and slightly suspicious look. "It sounds out there. But it's a serious condition. My sister's friend caught it and let it go untreated, and now she's in the hospital once or twice a month from the complications, and they still haven't gotten it fully treated. I know an exam like this can be uncomfortable, but trust me, if you can get this condition diagnosed and treated now before it starts causing you problems, then you definitely want to."