Raw Medicine (A Medical Romance Short Story) (9 page)

BOOK: Raw Medicine (A Medical Romance Short Story)
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"I can get up," she
protested as the men pushed the stretcher to the edge of the porch.

 

"Miss," the ranger said,
"please
stay
down. You might have a spinal
injury."

 

She rolled her eyes. "It was
only like fifteen feet. I'm not going to die."

 

The men carried the stretcher
inside and dropped her off on my exam table. I snapped on a pair of gloves,
preparing gauze and antiseptic to clean her wounds.

 

The medic and the ranger left,
and she lay there for a second before she saw me.

 

"Oh hey," she chirped.
"I see you around the village all the time. I had no idea you were the
doctor."

 

"That's good you had no
idea," I said, reciting a familiar line, "it means you've never had
to come see me. I’m Dr. Hulse, but you can call me Clay."

 

"Ha. Right. But I don't
think I'm hurt now, either. Kyleen," she said as she extended a hand.

 

She was spirited, that was for
sure. I examined her neck. I felt her suck her breath in and her
body stiffen
for a second as my fingers ran over her skin. I
was used to that reaction from women, but this time, it was different. I
couldn't help looking into her big blue eyes as I touched her, and our gazes
locked together for a second.

 

She was beautiful. Even in her
disheveled state, she looked radiant and healthy, her pale white skin
practically glowing and her eyes alive. Her blond hair was tied back, and the
way the fine wisps blew around in the breeze from the window was alluring. I
wanted to bury my nose in her hair, suck in the smell of her body. I tried to
control myself, but I couldn't, and I felt my cock lurch, pressing against the
front of my pants.

 

Beautiful
and too young for me.
Did she have any clue just how beautiful she was? How fucking
hot?

 

I tore my eyes away.

 

"You're fine," I said
finally. I removed the brace that was immobilizing her neck. "You may sit
up now.” I swear
,
the rangers here turn everything
into a big deal, just to feel important.

 

"Thank God," she said,
brushing her hair back. "I thought I was going to suffocate with that
thing on me."

 

I started preparing the gauze to
clean up her abrasions.

 

"What happened?" I
asked. Kyleen made a disgusted expression.

 

"I met a boy this morning.
Cory. He said he'd take me climbing, so I met him in the parking lot around
three. So I get there, and he shows me how to put a harness on and belay him
and everything, and then he climbs up and sets up a top rope for me...anyway. I
climb halfway up this cliff, and it's pretty easy, but then he ties off the
other end of the rope and just leaves me hanging there! I had no idea why he
would do that! I had to untie from the end of the rope and climb back down to
the ground by myself. That's when I fell."

 

I listened to Kyleen's story as I
cleaned her wounds and bandaged her up, shaking my head. I knew Cory and he was
a real punk. But I didn't understand why he would leave her hanging on the side
of a cliff, either. That kid must be even shadier than I thought.

 

"You're all set to go,"
I said. "I've got your insurance on file already. It's
a
ten
-dollar copay.

 

"Okay," Kyleen said,
smiling. Our eyes met for just a second too long, and it made me feel like my
stomach was starting to float. If only I could find a reason to make her stay.
Hell, I was going to ask her out. Forget the age difference. I'd take her out
to dinner
tonight,
tell her it was to make up for her
shitty day.
Steak and wine.
And then I'd charm the
pants off her.

 

I looked back at Kyleen. She was
searching through her backpack, opening and closing zippers.

 

"Shit shit shit," she
said, her face suddenly growing tight with panic. "It's gone! My wallet's
gone. My credit cards, everything!" She jumped to her feet.
"Shit!" she yelled. "That's why he left me hanging up there!
That kid stole my stuff!"

 
 
 

Kyleen

 
 
 

"Come on!" Clay said,
ushering me outside and jumping into a Park Service truck.

 

"Where are we going?"

 

"We're going to try to catch
that little shit. There's only one exit out of the park, and we're going to get
there before he does."

 

"Okay!" I yelped and
grabbed the handle above my head as we pealed out of the parking lot.

 

Clay grabbed the radio off the
dash and called the rangers, alerting them that a criminal was attempting to
exit the park, most likely in a green Volkswagen bus with New Mexico plates.

 

"That kid's caused enough
trouble in this park," he growled, gunning the engine as we tore through
an intersection.

 

We came to a stop in the middle
of a traffic jam, and I looked up the long line of cars ahead of us. A ranger
far up ahead was directing traffic at an intersection.

 

"Is that
him
?"
I asked. There was a green hippie bus far ahead of us in the line of cars.

 

"That's him!" Run ahead
and tell the ranger. I'm going to go deal with Cory personally."

 

I ran up the line of cars, hoping
the ranger wouldn't let traffic through and let Cory drive away. To my dismay,
she started waving our line through.

 

"
Nooo!
" I
screamed. "
Stop! Stop the cars!
" Cory noticed me and gunned the
engine of his old van, speeding up to drive past her.

 

But not in
time.
A
big white Park Service pickup rolled out of a nearby parking lot and moved to
intercept him. It squealed to a stop sideways in the middle of the road,
blocking Cory in. Cory slammed on his brakes, and the ancient van skidded and
hit the side of the pickup. I watched in shock as his body slammed forward and
hit the windshield. The rangers jumped out of their truck and pulled Cory out.
He looked a little dazed as they put the handcuffs on.

 

One of the rangers pulled a
backpack out of the van and looked through it. He handed me my wallet.

 

"Ma'am? Is this yours?"

 

"It is. Thank you."

 

Another vehicle arrived to take
Cory away, and he gave me one final smirk before the rangers pushed him into
the back.

 

"Hope you had fun," he
chuckled before the ranger shoved him into the car, "We won't use a condom
next time, either."

 

****

 

Clay drove me back to his office.
I relaxed, letting the tension of the situation drain out of my body. Everything
had turned out all right.

 

"You said ten bucks,
right?"

 

"It's okay,"
Clay
said, "you don't have to pay me. It was a pleasure
to help out a young woman. A beautiful young woman."

 

Clay turned to leave. I guess the
rocking chair outside on the porch was waiting.

 

"You can come outside and
hang out, if you want," he said. "You've got the day off,
right?"

 

"Yeah." I walked
outside, following him. What a perfect gentleman, I thought. He was a little
older than I was, but I liked his maturity, and his strength.

 

And he was attractive. Maybe he
wasn't totally ripped like Cory or one of the other rock climbers, but he
looked like he'd been pretty athletic in his younger days, and he still had a
powerful-looking chest and shoulders.

 

"You live alone out here?"
I asked.

 

"Yeah. When my wife passed a
few years ago, I wound up selling my practice in the city and came out here.
It's not a bad job, and it's peaceful."

 

"And you have a really nice
office."

 

"I do."

 

Something about Clay made me want
to tease him.

 

"Do you ever bring girls out
here?

 

"Where? To my house, or to
my office?"

 

I blushed. "I don't know. To
your house."

 

"Yes, I do. And to my
office."

 

I laughed. Were we really
flirting? "How do you do it at your office?" I asked, feeling a
little brazen. Clay just grinned, instead of answering.

 

We sat on the porch and talked
for a while. Then he asked me out to dinner that night. By the time I'd arrived
back at the dorm, everyone had already heard about what had happened, and the
air was abuzz with rumors.

 

Things settled down after I told
the story of what had happened three or four times.

 

"We're all headed down to
the river to get fucked up," my roommate Elisa said as I rummaged through
my tiny closet, taking out the one nice dress I had brought. "Want to
come?"

 

"I can't," I said,
"Dr. Hulse is taking me out."

 

I watched as her eyes opened
wide. "Out? Like
out
out? Like out on a date?"

 

"Yeah," I said, feeling
a little embarrassed, and running a hand through my hair. "I know he's
old, but I like him. I mean, it's just over the summer, probably..." I
blushed again.

 

"Oh my God, Kyleen! You like
him a lot, I can tell."

 

Everyone headed down to the
river, and I heard
their
voices dying away into the
distance as I started to get ready. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I
could see that I looked happy and radiant. I knew it was going to be the best
summer of my life.

 
 
 

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SPLIT BY THE DOCTOR

 

I glanced at the
clock as I slipped a hand up my black-and-white French maid’s uniform and
touched my throbbing sex. According to the note Mrs. Stone left for me this
morning, she and Dr. Stone would be home soon.
 

 

I had to hurry, for
I didn’t have much time.

 

Just thinking of my
billionaire boss, the world-famous cardiac surgeon, Dr. Dane Stone, made me
want to finger myself.

 

I had only been
working for them for a couple of months, and already I was tormented by the
raging crush I had on Dr. Stone.

 

Now, normally, I’m
not such a horny little vixen. But if you could see how stunningly handsome he
was, you’d understand.
This guy doesn’t just melt panties
,
he
incinerates them
!
And I feel safe to say there isn’t a woman alive who can resist his charms. His
six-foot-four, powerfully muscled body turns head wherever he goes, so please
excuse me when sometimes I just have to masturbate to his mental image, even
when I’m on the clock.
 
God, just a
single look from his sexy, bright green eyes are enough to make me ache with
lustful cravings; I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fantasized the good
doctor performing a private examination on me!
 

 

I quickly glanced at
the clock again.
 
I had to get a
move on.
 

 

Generally, I don't
keep track of when Dr. or Mrs. Stone come and go. But today was different.
Today they had left their bedroom door unlocked and slightly ajar. This never
happens. I had to take a quick peek inside; I simply couldn’t help myself.

 

For some unknown
reason, they don’t allow any of the maids to enter their room, not even the
head butler. Why this is the case is of great speculation amongst the servants,
but no one really knows why. Of course, there are rumors, but what’s the good
in those?

 

Needless to say, the
temptation was just too great—I was the only maid assigned to the second
floor this particular day, and no one but myself would ever be the wiser. I had
just finished all my duties, and had enough time to take a quick peek inside. I
knew it wasn’t proper, but what could be the harm?
 
What could they possibly have in there
that was so off limits?
 
So
forbidden?
   

 

I quietly padded
down the hallway towards their bedroom.
 
“Just one minute,” I told myself sternly, taking a step forward into the
massive room.
 

 

It was beautiful,
with large French windows that opened to an expansive balcony overlooking the
mountains.
 
The bed was encased in
an ornate metal frame that closely mimicked delicate vines.
 
I touched the cold steel, admiring the beauty,
and I gently ran my hand along the top of the red satin bedcovers, the kind you
see in porn videos.
 

 

And then my eyes
finally raked over the reason why the room was off limits: it was dedicated to
bondage and submission. There were floggers, collars, corsets, binders, and an
assortment of shackles. Even the bed was specifically made for tying people
down. Now I understood why they didn’t want anyone in their room. I sighed and
glanced around a moment longer; I wondered how often Mrs. Stone made love to
him, and how it felt.
 

 

There was red satin
robe that hung from a huge,
anatomically-correct
,
wrought-iron penis protruding from the bedframe.
  
I buried my face into the robe,
taking in its scent.
 
I put it on,
then slowly and deliberately climbed onto the bed, crawling seductively towards
the mirrored wall behind the pillows while pretending to be an erotic sex
kitten.
  

 

“You devilish little
thing, Clarissa,” I whispered to myself.
 
“You’ll be
punished
if Dr.
Stone catches you.”
 
I pouted my
voluptuous lips as I stared at my reflection.
 
I slowly slipped my panties off and
raised my skirt and robe to expose myself. I then turned my curvaceous ass
towards the mirror to stare at my sparkling wet, velvety sheath.
 
"Mmm, yeah, Dr. Stone," I
fantasized, "You want to fuck me?
 
You want to tie me up, spread me open and plunge your massive cock
inside of me? Mmm…I know you do."

 

I sighed. If only
things were different, if only I was a hot, rich, sculpted woman like Mrs.
Stone, then I wouldn’t have to pretend. But as it was, I was just a
poor house
maid; a man like Dr. Stone wouldn’t even take a
second look at my plump, soft, curvy body.

  

I let out a quiet
moan, collapsed into the silky fabric of the bedspread, and closed my
eyes.
 
“If only,” I whispered longingly,
curling a tendril of my long blond hair delicately between my fingers as I
fingered myself.
 

 

Just then I heard a
door open downstairs.
 

 

My heart jumped: Dr.
and Mrs. Stone had returned.
 
I
hopped off the bed, threw the robe back over the wrought-iron penis, and
quickly smoothed the bedspread back to the pristine state it had been in.
 

 

“Clarissa?” Mrs.
Stone’s voice rang out from below.
 
“Clarissa, dear, could you please help Charles carry the new art pieces
we just purchased? They are rather heavy, and I’m afraid they’re simply too
much for an old butler.”

 

“Right away, madam,”
I replied. I quickly and quietly ran out of the room and hurried down the
stairs.
   

 

“Good afternoon,
madam,” I said as I walked past her and made my way outside to assist the head
butler. I could feel my face burning red hot with embarrassment, and if it
weren't for my smooth, olive-colored skin, surely my guilt would have been
revealed.
   

 

I almost ran into
Mr. Stone as he was entering and I was leaving.
 
I begged his pardon and gave him a
slight curtsy. Our eyes met for a brief moment.
 
I tried to give him a polite smile, but
I quickly looked away out of shame.
 
I had been fantasizing about him—every bit of him—and I
irrationally imagined that if I looked too long, he would somehow discover what
I had been daydreaming about.

 

Grateful for the
diversion I continued out to the car, taking a minute to compose myself. I
returned a short while later, struggling to carry a heavy, expensive-looking
painting into the antechamber. I had just set it down when my mind alighted to
a blunder of extraordinary proportions:
MY
PANTIES!
 

 

Oh my god, I had
forgotten to retrieve them!

 

I suddenly panicked.
Where had I left them
?!
 
Of course, they were still in the
bedroom, but where?

 

My body instantly
went numb as adrenaline pulsed into my veins.
 
I turned, and dashed as quickly as I
dared, past Mrs. Stone, and up the stairs.
 

 

“I believe I have
forgotten my duster upstairs,” I said with a nervous smile as I passed her. I’m
sure she found my haste unbecoming for a proper maid.

 

I rushed up to the
second floor landing, scurried around a corner, and just as I came to their
bedroom door Dr. Stone came out.
 
My
heart sank down to the pit of my stomach, my breath, ragged and nervous.
 

 

His eyes burned into
mine and the corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly.
 
“Something wrong,” he asked.

 

I shook my
head.
 
“No, sir. Just thought I
might have left a light on, sir,” I squeaked timidly.
 

 

“Oh.
 
I though you might have been
looking
for something.”
 
His eyes never left mine as the words
screamed into my ears and echoed through my brain.

 

Oh god!
He knew! He must have found them!
 

 

My cheeks burned,
and I felt light-headed as my knees started to shake and wobble.
 
I couldn’t bear his stare…I couldn’t
bear his
knowing.
 

 

I turned on my heels
and headed back down the hallway. I knew I was finished—it would be only
a matter of seconds before he told Mrs. Stone, before they both knew, and
before they both kicked me out…
 

 

The walls suddenly began closing in on me, and then it was
all black.
 
I finally came-to with
the sound of Mrs. Stone’s shrill voice seemingly far off in the distance. When
my vision returned I saw that she was crouched over me with a cold rag in her
hand.
 

 

“Clarissa!
 
Clarissa!
 
What's wrong?”

 

I attempted to stir.
 

 

“Don’t get up, you fainted! I’m going to call an
ambulance!”

 

I was still dizzy and somewhat out of it, but the word
'ambulance' startled me to my senses.
 
There was no need to call an ambulance.
 
I wasn’t ill with anything but shame.

 

“It, it’s okay, madam. Please don’t call, I haven’t any
insurance, I would never be able to pay the bill,” I pleaded. “I'm fine, just a
little dizzy is all.
 
I didn’t have
lunch,” I lied brazenly, getting to my feet.
 

 

Mrs. Stone went downstairs to tell a cook to make me a
sandwich and some tea.
 
When she was
out of earshot Dr. Stone said, "Maybe we should take you to the
hospital.
 
Just to make sure
everything is o.k
.,
you know?"
 
He knew very well I didn’t have any
insurance and was merely screwing with me.
 

 

Then he put his arm around me, leaned down into my ear and
whispered, “Our little secret.”
 

 

My heart beat wildly and my stomach tightened into knots as
his free hand traced up my body and stuffed a ball of lacy red fabric down
between my breasts.
 

 

I let out a gasp.
 
My body was suddenly terrified and electrified at the same time.
 
I had been dreaming about this very
moment every day for weeks, and now it was happening—or at least,
something
was happening. Did I really
want this after all?
 
Could I handle
his attention?
 
His touch?
 
His affection? And what about Mrs.
Stone?

 

I choked and stepped back as I heard Mrs. Stone pound up
the stairs.
 

 

"Here, dear. Eat something," she urged.
 

 

“Uh, no, it's okay…I don't feel good right now.”

 

“Her pupils are dilated, Rebecca.
 
I'll take her to the hospital and run a
scan on her just to be safe.”

 

Mrs. Stone was easily persuaded.
 
Dr. Stone knew his wife couldn’t handle
dealing with illness of any kind.
 
So he walked me downstairs, retrieved his keys, and led me out to his
car.
 
I was terrified of what he was
about to do, and my legs grew weaker with each step.
 

 

He opened the door of his Mercedes and helped me inside,
his hands grasping at my waist.
 
I
could feel the fire of his touch and I shivered as my nerves sparked to
life.
  
He closed the
door.
 
I had never been in his
car.
 
The seats were made of black
leather and perfectly supported my frame.
 
Every inch of the car was pristine, and the smell—it was
his
smell.
 

 

I took a deep breath and held it as the door across from me
opened and he got in.
 
I stared
silently straight ahead. He started the car and we took off.
 

 

"Where are we going?
 
Are we really going to the
hospital?" I started to panic.

 

"Of course not.”
 

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