Unsafe Treatment E-Book

Arya Hucovv

• Herausgeber: Boruma Publishing
• Kategorie: Erotik
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2020

Beschreibung

Nancy has a problem. She is two cup sizes bigger and her body is changing in ways that she doesn't know how to handle, especially when she starts filling up. Thankfully, Doctor Hunter knows exactly how to help ease her discomfort. She's too full and just need to use their mammary stimulation machine to suction her dry. And that's only the beginning...

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

Eyes follow them as they walk out of the room. She wraps her arms around herself and tries to keep her head up, but the moment her gaze finds another, a young man who's looking at her like she's a delectable piece of meat, she quickly looks back down at her feet.

It is disconcerting, to say the least. The men are looking at her as if she's edible and the women are staring at her with a mixture of pity and jealousy.

She avoids their gazes and follows the heels of Doctor Hunter without looking up for the rest of the way, uncertainty and worry chewing the insides of her belly. The cold of the hospital makes her hair rise on end, though she knows she is trembling for another reason altogether.

They walk through empty hallways and into a crowded elevator, doctors and nurses squeezed together in the enclosed space until her back is pressed against the doctor's chest. She is keenly aware that she is drawing attention in the small space even though she keeps her gaze firmly on the dark red carpet of the elevator floor. She tries not to let it get to her.

She folds her arms in front of her chest to keep the person in front of her from pressing directly against her chest.

"Sorry," she murmurs when she is pushed further into the doctor's chest.

"Not enough elevators in the hospital," Doctor Hunter says, his mouth so close to her ear that she can feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. She shudders and resists the urge to lean further into his chest.

The doors slide open and nurses in uniform hurry out the enclosed space. She sees the shiny black shoes of the newcomers.

"What's this, Hunter? Got yourself a Hucow, I see! Are you going to share her?" A decidedly male voice booms, his voice so loud it echoes in the room like he's speaking through a microphone.

She flinches and the Doctor behind her rumbles his displeasure. She looks up, worried eyes taking in the owner of the roaring voice. The man in front of them is in a nurses' uniform, the pale white a sharp contrast against his dark skin. She swallows the lump in her throat when her gaze moves from his large, muscular body to the angular face and sharp features. He is handsome, but also quite terrifyingly so, especially since he does not bother hiding exactly what he wants to do with her.

He slides into the elevator and takes what little space there is in front of her. She keeps her arms wrapped around her chest defensively, worried that he would do something untoward towards her. Without thinking, she leans back against Doctor Hunter, seeking the familiar safety in his arms.

The doctor wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into his chest. She fits flush against him, the warmth of his body a welcomed change. The bow comes a little undone and she can feel the soft material of his shirt on her bare back. A familiar pressure grows in her core, an ache between her legs. 

The black nurse whistles. "She looks like she really needs filling up," he says without shame and she flushes, her body agreeing with him even though she's shaking her head no.

Leseprobe

Doctor's Orders 1

UNSAFE TREATMENT

by Arya Hucovv

Copyright 2018 Arya Hucovv

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. No part in this book may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or distributed without permission of the author or publisher.

This steamy short story features a hucow being bred by a lot - A LOT - of fertile alpha males. There are scenes of stripping, groping, public humiliation and public fingering, fucking machine, bondage, lactation, gangbang, voyeurism, exhibitionism, and so much more.

Chapter 1: An Embarrassing Appointment

The door opens with a resounding noise and all the ladies in the waiting room look up expectantly. A handsome young nurse pokes his head out, brown hair falling over his eyes. "Nancy Autumn?" he calls. "The doctor is ready for you now."

Nancy has been fidgeting anxiously in the waiting room for the past half hour, torn between getting this over with as quickly as possible and running out through the front door and pretending everything's fine. At the nurse's announcement, she feels a knot tightening in her throat. She can't back out now, especially since her initial strategy of waiting for the problem to go away on it's own didn't work out very well.

"Thank you," she says softly as she passes the nurse and enters the doctor's office. She takes a moment to drink in the sight of the large white space and averts her eyes so she doesn't have to look too closely at the medical examination table that's placed ominously just by the wall. She knows from experience that the table can be tilted for the doctor's convenience, and that the stirrups at the edges are made from soft leather.

Her gaze lingers to the doctor and she squeaks in surprise. The man sitting behind the massive desk is not what she expected to see at all.  He looks like he just walked out of a playboy magazine, chiseled chin and muscular forearms with the sleeves folded back. He's too pretty to be a doctor!

When he looks up and focuses his emerald pupils on her, she does a double take and then stumbles over her own feet. She hurries towards him and looks at her own feet so that she can stop making a fool of herself.

The man smirks, as if he has gotten that reaction before. "Good afternoon, Ms. Autumn. Is anything the matter?"

She worries her bottom lip and hopes she's not being too rude when she says, "I was expecting Doctor Garcia?"

His eyebrow arcs a little. "I'm Doctor Garcia."

"Oh!" Heat rises to her cheeks. She had assumed that Doctor Garcia would be a woman.

"Is that a problem?" he asks.

She shakes her head instinctively even though she really wants to ask if they could assign her a female doctor. He looks kind enough, the green in his eyes conveying empathy and gentleness. "No. It's- It's fine, Doctor Gracia," she mumbles, swallowing hard.

"I prefer Doctor Hunter, or just Hunter, if you don't mind?" he says. "My father's a medical practitioner as well. The title reminds me just how much I've taken after him," he adds with a mildly self-depreciating smile.

She wishes he is less friendly so she could have a reason to ask for another - female - doctor. Again, she considers doing exactly that. It is, after all, her right as a patient. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is a polite, "Of course, Doctor Hunter."

He flashes her a bright smile that sends a shiver down her spine and between her legs. She crosses them and bites the inside of her mouth to keep anymore embarrassing noises from leaving her lips.

"Thank you for seeing me so soon," she manages to say and is proud that her words come out exactly the way she wants them to.

"It's no problem. Luckily for you, we had a cancellation for this afternoon's appointment or we wouldn't be seeing each other until next week."

She manages a weak smile. "Lucky me," she says, looking at her interlinked fingers in her lap. His gaze is just a little too intense for her liking. It's like he's trying to discern exactly what's wrong with her by undressing her with his eyes. She tells herself she's just being paranoid. He's a professional.

"So, how can I help you today, Ms. Autumn?" he asks, taking a quick look at her file.

"Just Nancy, please?" she murmurs.

"Nancy it is, then," he says, frowning as he reads the information on her file. "Says here it's been a while since your last check-up."

She begins chewing her lower lip again. "I um... I've been putting it off." The medical visits are required by law, but not so strictly enforced that she would be thrown to prison for missing a few visits.

"Any particular reason?" he asks, side-stepping the issue of her not showing up for her mandated medical examinations.

"I umm... hospitals make me nervous and uh..." she shrugs. "I didn't see any reason why I needed to go- come," she swallows hard and feels herself blushing for her awkward reply, but the doctor smiles warmly at her.

"Few people think it's necessary to get regular checkups until something happens," he is only mildly chiding when he says this, but she sinks in her seat nevertheless. She feels like a teenager again, being forced to strip in the doctor's office so she can check if she's going to be a contributing member of society, or one of those women.

"Yeah," she mumbles.

"Let me assure you that everything we do here today is going to be just between us," he says. "I'm here to help you to the best of my knowledge and ability, Nancy."

She knows he suspects. And he's right to suspect because he would be right. Jesus. Her mind is a mess. She shifts on the seat uncomfortably. "Thank you, doctor," she manages to say. She needs to know that it is still possible for her to continue her life even if he confirms her diagnosis.

"Now, will you tell me what's ailing you?" he asks.

She wraps her jacket around herself even though she knows she's going to have to take it off eventually to show him. Beneath the coat, she's wearing the tight black button-up that she's started wearing ever since her problem exhibited itself. She's wearing black slacks and her entire outfit make her look like she's dressed for a funeral.

"Nancy, I can't help you if you don't say anything," he says, again with the mild chiding tone that makes her feel like a child.

"I um... I-" she takes a deep breath and begins again. She's been practicing the speech in her mind the entire time she was waiting for her turn, but now, in front of the doctor that's unfairly gorgeous, she's tongue-tied. "I have a problem in my chest," she blurts.

"I see." The good doctor makes a note of that in her file. "Difficulty breathing?" he asks.

"No," she can't help but snort a little at that. "I wish it was just that." She runs trembling fingers through her hair. "It's my breasts," she says. "I think... I think I'm presenting." The word leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

She knows it's wrong, but she's always looked down on the people who exhibit the perfect combination of bodily functions that shows off their ability to be bred, and to carry offspring. Scientists call them the perfect specimen of the female breed. The proper term is Presented Female, PF for short.

Laymen call them hucows, due to the changes in their body, specifically the enlargement of breasts and induced lactation. Human cows. She's always preferred the latter herself. She thinks it's fitting.

All the other hucows she has come across in the past are just like that. They're good for fucking, providing milk, and breeding. They're rare enough that people who present are instantly swooped up by some rich and fancy men, who wants the prestige that comes with having the PF as their partners and the number of offspring she can provide.

Maybe it's divine punishment for all the time she's looked down on the hucow parents that come to pick up their children from her classroom.

He looks at her for a brief moment. Then, he licks his lips and glances at her breasts. She resists the urge to wrap the jacket tighter around herself. She purchased the jacket a year ago and it no longer fits, particularly around her chest region, where the buttons are stretched. She can feel her body heating up at the intensity of his gaze. "What gives you that idea?" he asks finally.

"My breasts are umm... they're lactating," she manages to say. "Do you think- do you think I could be presenting? But I'm eighteen, not sixteen."

"It's possible," he says at length.

"The doctor that checked me said I wasn't!" she blurts, and then bites the inside of her mouth for being too loud.

"That's why continual medical checkups is necessary until you're twenty-one. You say you're eighteen?" he asks.

"Yes," she whispers.

"Just turned eighteen, I assume?" he asks. When she nods in affirmation, he continues, "Sometimes, it takes two years for PF's to show signs. Has there been any other signs?"