She pulled at her restraints but couldn't move even an inch because of the way he'd taped her up to the beam. She made some sound from behind her duct tape gag, still trying in vain to free herself.
"Now, Rachel. Be a good girl and I won't have to put you to sleep for your examination."
She wasn't even sure what words she was trying to say, but it didn't matter, it all just came out as a jumbled, frantic sound from behind her gag.
Lance knelt behind her and fisted her hair, tugging her head back like he had before, even more painfully now. "Are you going to be a good girl?" he asked, holding the needle up to her face, depressing the plunger so some of the liquid dropped onto her forehead, rolled down over her eye and onto her cheek.
She met his eyes and nodded.
"What's that? A nod to say yes, you'll be good? Or one to say yes, you'd like the shot?"
She tried to answer but he just laughed.
"Well, I'd rather have you awake. It will keep things more intimate between us."
He was crazy, this man, and she was terrified of him. But she had to go along, hope for the opportunity to free herself. She eyed the needle just an arm's length from her but he must have seen her do it because he tightened his hold on her hair and yanked.
"Don't think about it," he warned, his words coming through tight lips.
He released her and reached for the scissors in his pocket, then cut away the tape that bound her to the beam. Lifting her to her feet, he all but dragged her to the table. But he was bigger than her and stronger than her and lifted her easily, sitting her on top of it.
"You'll get one chance, Rachel. If you fight me, even for a second, I won't hesitate to give you the anesthetic. Clear?"
She looked into his eyes but didn't see even a hint of any kindness left there. She nodded.
"Good," he said. Fishing the key out of his pocket, he unlocked her handcuffs. He cuffed one to the table leg and taped the other arm down to the side of the table.
"Spread your legs and bend your knees. Place your feet here," he said.
She looked down the table at herself, hesitating.
"Come on now, girl," he said, slapping her hip once, twice. "Get them up and spread."
She had no choice, she knew it. If she refused, he would make her, and likely hurt her worse in the meantime. She lifted her legs, her face reddening, and placed her feet on the edges of the table.
"Shift your hips farther down. That's right, to the edge of the table."
Lance then took her right foot and wound the tape around her ankle and the table leg several times, then did the same with her left foot. Even if she closed her knees, he'd have full access to her, to all of her. When he was satisfied that she was securely bound, he put the tape aside and pulled his stool up between her legs.
"Lovely view," he commented as her face turned a deeper shade of red.
He slipped on a pair of latex gloves and reached for a tub of Vaseline. She lifted her head off the table to watch in horror as he smeared a dollop of the stuff onto his finger.
"We'll take your temperature first," he said.
She began to shake her head furiously, but he simply carried on, calm as can be.
"I would have taken it orally but can't really with that gag, can I?"
He met her eyes when he brought his finger to her anus and began to rub the stuff onto her. She tried not to make any sound and turned away, squeezing her eyes shut, cringing as she felt his slippery finger circling and circling.
"Relax your muscles, it will go easier," he suggested.
In response, she tightened everything and pressed her knees together.
"Oh, that's no way to behave," he said, standing, slapping her inner thigh once, then twice with the back of his hand. "Open your legs wide Rachel. Now." Throughout this, he kept that other finger pressed firmly against her bottom hole.
She made some noise and tried again to free herself but it didn't matter. She was at his mercy. He smiled. "I'll stay right here until you relax for me." He pressed again, a little harder, smiling even wider when the very tip of his finger penetrated the tight ring. She whimpered, forcing herself to do as he said until finally he was satisfied and removed his finger. She then watched as he took a thermometer and greased it generously before sliding it inside her.
"There," he said, standing. He removed his gloves and threw them into the trashcan. When he turned back to her, all she could look at was the bulge at the front of his pants and a new fear gripped her. "We'll just let that sit for a while," he said. He came to stand closer to the top of the table and touched her face. "I'm sorry I have to do this. I don't want to hurt you but you understand, don't you, that I have no choice?"
How was she supposed to answer that? Tell him he was a lunatic with a personality disorder? At moments, he seemed almost normal, but then not at all. It was terrifying. She wondered if he had always been so or if it was the serum he had injected himself with that was doing it.
"You do understand?" he asked again, turning her face just a little more harshly.
She nodded, knowing it was the only thing she could do.
"Good. Let's move on then," he said, totally cool again. His eyes traveled across her body and he brought the tips of the ungloved fingers of one hand to her breast. She turned away when he lightly brushed her nipples, circling there, moving to the other breast and doing the same, back and forth, back and forth. Her nipples hardened in reaction and he seemed pleased by that. "Pretty, Rachel," he said, moving his hand away and just looking at her for a moment before placing both hands over her nipples and pinching hard.
She called out, her face contorting with the sudden pain. It was only an instant and he stopped, still smiling that awful smile.
He reached for a notebook on the counter and scribbled something inside it. "Normal sexual response," he said out loud, then closed the book and put it away, smiling.
He resumed his seat on the stool and she felt when he took hold of the thermometer. He pulled it out slowly, almost all the way, then pushed it back in once more. She clenched her bottom again.
"Soft. Stay soft. There's more to come and you don't want me to have to sedate you."
She met his eyes for a moment, seeing his dilated pupils, wondering what else he would do to her.
After an eternity of sitting there just looking at her, he pulled the thermometer out. "Temperature is normal." His hands were on her bottom cheeks, moving toward her sex. "I'll just use my fingers first," he said as he spread her lips apart.
She tried to tell him to stop but it came out just a flat sound. Even knowing she couldn't get away, she shrunk just a little inside herself.
"Looks very healthy, Rachel. And very pretty," he said, pressing a freshly gloved finger inside her. "What's this?" he asked. "You're not still a virgin?" He kept feeling around, sounding surprised.
She looked at him but made no sound.
"Interesting."
She groaned in protest when he pressed deeper into her.
"Shh … It won't take long. When was your last period?" he asked.
She squeezed her eyes shut and a tear slid down her face when she turned away, this humiliation too much.
"Oh, sorry. Hard to speak with a gag over your mouth, isn't it?" he commented, chuckling. He stood and pressed on her belly with his finger still inside her. He then removed his hand and reached for the speculum, rubbing some of the Vaseline onto it.
"I just need a sample." He didn't wait. Instead, he slid the thing inside her and she felt every cold centimeter as it penetrated. He picked up a Q-tip and took the sample he was looking for, removed the speculum, and stood, placing the sample into a waiting vial. He made more notes.
"Everything looks good, Rachel," he said without turning to her.
She exhaled, thinking it was over, but dread filled her when he resumed his seat between her wide spread legs and picked up the Vaseline again.
"I just need to do a rectal exam and we'll be finished."
She shook her head from side to side, her eyes pleading with him, trying frantically to free her legs but unable to do more than close her knees.
He was doing this for his own gratification. She knew it, didn't doubt it for a moment.
He dipped his ungloved fingers into the tub of Vaseline.
"I don't want to hurt you, better to lubricate," he said.
She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut.
"Just try to relax," he said, standing once again. He brought his fingers to her back hole and she clenched tight. With his other hand he slapped her bottom several times, short, quick slaps that stung. "Open, relax. This is happening. It will be easier for you if you just relax," he said, slapping twice more, these more painful. He pressed with one finger, keeping his other hand on her thigh, pushing her legs wider apart. When he penetrated, he met her eyes, pressing his finger deeper. "Good girl, just relax. Push against me, I'm going to insert a second finger now."