The Ghosts of Ravencrest (The Ravencrest Saga Book 1) (8 page)

“Miss Moorland?” he asked again.

Her cheeks were on fire. “Yes, uh, that’s me.”

“May I call you Belinda?”

“Um, okay.”

He smiled, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling up in the best possible way. “You’re sure?”

She nodded, afraid to speak.

“I’m Dr. Akin. Richard Akin.” He extended his hand.

Without thinking, she shook it. Realizing her breast was exposed, she pulled her hand back.

The doctor grinned. “You can call me Dr. Dickey. Most of my patients do.”

She nodded and stared at the human body poster behind him. The organs, bones, and winding blood vessels of the illustration were meant to be educational. Instead, they looked morbid, horrific.

“You don’t seem very comfortable around doctors, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

She looked at him. His eyes were warm and compassionate. He looked sincere, though the hint of smile never faltered.

“I’ve never been this … naked in front of a doctor before.” Her face felt like a ball of fire.

“Well, don’t you worry. We’re going to take good care of you here. Very good care.” He smiled, his green eyes twinkling in the light. “So, you just started at Ravencrest, I hear. How are you liking it?”

“It’s fine. Good. Great actually. I think I’m going to love it.”

“Good. That’s excellent. Mr. Manning has a great staff. I’m certain you’ll fit right in.”

She thought of Mrs. Heller and suppressed a shiver. “I’ve only met a few of the staff members. And the children, of course.”

“And how are they? The children?”

“Oh, they’re adorable,” she said. “I love children.”

“As I’m sure they love you.” More eye crinkling.

Usually,
she wanted to say, knowing little Cynthia was going to be a huge challenge.

“Well, then,” said Dr. Akin, “let’s proceed. Before we get started on the actual examination, I’d like your permission to allow a medical student to observe. Nice fellow by the name of Dr. Jeffrey Johnson. He’s an intern and he could benefit from-”

“Oh, I’m, um, not really comfort-”

“Now, now, Belinda. Don’t worry. It’s a professional situation and it’s for the greater good-”

“But I-”

“We can’t produce great doctors if we don’t give them a little hands-on experience. And I have a great feeling about Dr. Jeffrey. I think he’s got what it takes.” He smiled at her.

“It’s just that I’m very …”

“Uncomfortable?”

“Yes.”

He laughed, but it was a kind laugh. “You know what they say about overcoming fears, right? You need to face them. I think Dr. Jeffrey may not be the only person being given a great opportunity here today.”

Belinda swallowed. Hard. She felt light-headed as she realized she was nodding her head.

“Excellent. The world needs more like you, Belinda. I’ll go get Dr. Jeffrey and Nurse Massengil.”

Belinda sat at the edge of the exam table, mortified.

Within a few moments, the entire crew entered. Dr. Akin, Nurse Massengil, and a young man in a white coat with dark hair and chocolate eyes: Dr. Johnson. He looked about twelve and wore a serious expression, probably trying to appear older.

Dr. Akin - she couldn’t even think of him as Dr. Dickey, let alone say it aloud, approached and stood in front of her, very close. “Shall we get started?”

“Uh, okay.”

He went to the counter where Nurse Massengil sat on a stool reading Bon Appétit, and returned with a tongue depressor. “I’ll bet you’ve seen one of these before, haven’t you?”

She managed a smile. “That, I’ve seen.”

“Good. Open wide.”

She parted her lips and let him put the flat stick on her tongue. “A little wider,” he said. She complied, and waited while he looked around in her mouth. “Very good. You’ve a nice healthy pink tongue and a charming uvula.” He removed the depressor. “All done. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“No.” This time her smile was tiny but genuine. “No. It wasn’t bad.”

Next, he shined a light in one eye, then the other, and had her read a couple lines from an eye chart on the wall across the room. She passed with flying colors and was beginning to feel a little better about things.
 

He looked in her ears then felt the glands in her neck. “All good,” he said, glancing at the intern, who was taking notes for him. “Now, raise your arms, Belinda. Just lace your fingers behind your head.”

Stricken, she stared at him.

“You’ve never had a breast exam?”

She shook her head.

“Well, every woman needs one and it’s past time you had your first. I do this every day, there’s no need to be concerned. It doesn’t hurt. Up you go.”

Feeling a little sick to her stomach, she did as she was told. The intern didn’t look up from his notes, but the nurse stared. Hard.
Is there something wrong with me?

“Dr. Johnson, join me and copy my movements.”

Oh, no!

The young man moved to Belinda’s left side and then both her breasts were encompassed by masculine hands. She went crimson.
Oh please, let this be over with! Please!
She closed her eyes. Dr. Akin’s hand was large, his fingers very long. He was cupping her entire breast. The intern’s wasn’t quite as big. Both men’s hands were dry and uncallused, smooth, gentle. Warm.

This new feeling upset her almost as much as being nude.
Stop it! This is a doctor’s exam, it’s not supposed to feel good!

“First, Dr. Johnson, let me see the technique they taught you in medical school.”

Belinda sucked in her breath as the young man began to palpate and squeeze her left breast.

“Okay, that’s enough. Now watch how I do it. A little finesse makes all the difference to your patients.”

Belinda caught her breath as Dr. Akin’s hand moved over and around her entire breast. He increased the pressure after each movement, but in increments that didn’t upset her.

“You see, Miss Moorland is much more relaxed with this method. Aren’t you, Belinda?”

“Uh. Um. Yes, I think.”

“Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Try it again, Doctor.”

Dr. Johnson was an excellent student. Belinda found herself relaxing as each doctor examined a breast. It was pleasant, almost like a massage; even when they pushed hard, it felt nice.
 

“Next, we examine the nipples,” said Dr. Akin. “They need just as much attention as the rest of the breast. Do as I do.” He stroked her right nipple. “Because Miss Moorland’s nipples are already quite erect, this isn’t necessary, but if your patient has unerect nipples, you need to stroke them as we are now, or even give them a gentle pinch, like this.”

Oh dear God.

“Like this, Dr. Akin?”

Oh dear God.

“Precisely, Dr. Johnson.” Now he began to knead her nipple between his thumb and fingers, rolling and pinching it, then pulling and stretching. Dr. Johnson mimicked his movements. Belinda didn’t dare open her eyes.
 

“Everything feels very healthy and normal,” Dr. Akin said at last. “And how does the left breast strike you, Doctor?”

“Very nice. I mean, healthy.”

“Good. Excuse me just a moment.”

She felt Dr. Akin’s body brush against her as he went to the left breast. “As attending, I should double check.” He proceeded to palpate the breast and rub the nipple. “You are correct, Dr. Johnson. This is a very nice healthy breast. Belinda, how are we doing?”

“Um, I’m good.”

“Good. I told you we’d take good care of you, didn’t I?”

“You did.” She opened her eyes. Dr. Akin’s face was no more than a foot from hers.
Oh, that beautiful smile! What a bedside manner.
 

“Are you ready for your pelvic?”

“Pelvic?”

“Dr. Johnson, please take notes. Belinda, are you sexually active?”

“No.”

“How long since you’ve had intercourse?”

“I, uh, I never have done that.”

“Really? You’re a virgin?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“What about oral sex?”

“I’ve never done that either.”

“Okay. Anal?”

“What?”

“Anal sex,” he said. “Some women indulge in anal sex in order to retain their virginity.”

“Anal sex?”
Good God, is this man serious?
“No. Of course not.”

“No anal sex,” he told Dr. Johnson. “Okay, Belinda, I want you to lie back on the table for me.”

She did as she was told. Cool air played across her exposed body.

“Virginia - Nurse Massengil, have you prepared the pelvic tray?”

Oh God, what’s a pelvic tray?

“Yes, Doctor.” She heard the woman walking over and then saw her place a tray of shiny instruments on a little rolling cart at the side of the exam table. There were big Q-tips and a kit that said “pap” on it, along with several pairs of latex gloves, a big tube of KY-Jelly, and three duck-billed metal devices, and something that looked like a miniature rocket, white domed with a smooth clear plastic exterior.

What in heaven’s name are those things? They’re going to hurt me!

Dr. Akin smiled down at her. “You’re fine, relax. Now I’m going to put your feet up.” He tugged on either side of the bottom of the exam table and two leg holders flipped out. She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Now, Belinda, just relax, and I’ll take care of everything.” He lifted her right ankle with one hand, cupped her calf with the other and began to raise her leg into the air. “It’s okay, relax. Let me do the work.”

Belinda couldn’t answer but willed herself to comply. A second later, her calf rested on the holder and her heel was in a stirrup. He did the same with the other leg. She felt so exposed she wanted to cry.
But I won’t. I refuse to cry.

“Now, Belinda, I need you to scoot forward a few inches, so your bottom is right at the edge of the table. Can you do that for me?”

She opened her eyes. Dr. Akin stood between her legs. Dr. Johnson just behind him, and the nurse right by one of the stirrups, taking it all in -
All of me!
- and all three of them smiling. Belinda tried to scoot, but the paper on the table beneath her bunched up.

“Don’t worry,” Dr. Akin said, his voice warm and honeyed, peaceful, calm. “I’ll help you.” He put his arms around her legs and lifted her bottom off the table. “Virginia, please fix the paper.”

The nurse did so, and then Dr. Akin pulled Belinda forward by her legs a few inches and lowered her down. Her bottom was hanging over the edge and the pressure spread her, so she felt cool air in new places. “Oops,” said the doctor. He placed one hand on each of her butt cheeks and pushed back, then examined her position. “Yes, that’s just right. Comfortable, Belinda?”

“No.”

“It’s your first time. I know this is a little shocking, but trust me, next time you won’t even blink.”

Belinda doubted that very much.

“I should rephrase my question. Are you in any pain? Is anything pinching or hurting?”

“No.”

“Very good. Nurse?”

The woman’s hands went to one stirrup, then the other fastening wide Velcro straps over her ankles. Then she retreated.

“Why?” asked Belinda.

“The straps?”

She nodded.

“Well, it’s just in case, once you’re in position, you might get a leg cramp and bop your doctor on the head.”

“I’m not going to get a leg cramp.”

“You’re not in position yet.”

“I’d prefer you undo them,” Belinda said, her voice breathy. “They make me feel very claustrophobic.”

Dr. Akin pressed a lever under the table and her legs began to open wider and wider until she was spread-eagled, all of her privates on display. “Now you’re in position,” the doctor told her. “And we’ll be done in just a couple minutes.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry.” He snapped on a pair of latex gloves. “It’ll be over before you know it. Nurse, my stool.”

Belinda heard something being rolled toward her, then the doctor sat down so his face was just inches from her vagina. And her anus.
Could this be any more humiliating?
In as long as she could remember, only she had seen her privates. When she was about ten, she took a hand mirror to bed with her, and a flashlight, and had looked so hard and been so fascinated by what was down there that she didn’t know anyone was watching until her mother snatched off the covers.

Momma had been horrified and made her confess to the old priest at the school, and had covered her dresser mirror and taken away the hand mirror. She even took away the little compact she’d kept in her purse. Calling her daughter a whore, she made her sit in the corner for two hours every night for a month and tucked her sheets in so hard she could barely move, let alone raise her knees. Her mother checked on her early in the morning to make sure the tucks were as tight as they had been at bedtime. And she made her wear knitted mittens to bed to keep her from touching herself.

“Belinda? Are you ready?”

“I-”

A cold blob of something - gel, she realized - hit her open vagina.

“It’s a little cold,” the doctor said, “But we’ll warm it up right now.”

And his fingers began to move the gel around, sliding it all over her nether regions, rubbing it into her lower lips with gentle care.

Almost like a lover
. The thought was unbidden, unwanted.
It’s wrong to like this ... Normal people don’t like this.
But it felt so good.
 

He massaged her labia and Dr. Johnson stood behind him, watching. He added more gel to her clitoris and then rubbed that in with such a light caressing motion that she felt a strange ache in her groin and had to fight the urge to push herself into his hand.
 

The pleasure increased and she felt beads of sweat prickling her hairline. Her senses heightened and she became aware of everything around her - the overhead light illuminating her, the sounds of Dr. Akin’s steady breathing, the light smell of antiseptic idling in the air, the eyes on her body.

Her own breathing grew deeper and the oxygen seemed revitalizing somehow - fresh and delicious in an inexplicable new way. Her eyes rolled back of their own accord and she closed her lids to conceal the fact.
Is this normal? Does everyone feel this way? What’s wrong with me?