Doctor Appointment

Once upon a time there was a doctor. He was a chiropractor, and I met him at the first lifestyle party I ever went to.  I was as unsure of myself as a new submissive can be. He was well-known in the community, “respected”…and he zoned in on me immediately. Fresh meat. Baby bottom.  Though I didn’t know that was what he doing then. I was too new to know that game.
I wasn’t totally taken in by him though. He was a little too smooth. And…I’ve always had a slight unease in the “meat market” atmosphere anyway. I am not your typical bar girl, never had men hit on me, buy me drinks, etc. So when they do act…too interested, I tend to be a bit…suspicious. Why me?
And yet, he was attractive enough, and friendly, and talked to me when no one else there did. Maybe I was misreading him. Maybe he really was sincere. I didn’t know.  And besides, he wasn’t talking to me about lifestyle stuff at all.  He talked to me about my back issues and the pain I had experienced for the past several years.  He gave me his card and told me he could help me.
And, for the first few appointments, he did help me. He adjusted my back. He also talked to my ex (we were married at the time and just beginning to explore BDSM together) about the lifestyle. They seemed to hit off.  He seemed to know so much. He said all the right things.  He got my ex to trust him, and thus me.  I laid aside my unease.
Then, at some point, he crossed the line. He managed to get my ex to agree to let him play with me, in a “clinical” setting–at his office. With his instruments and his electrical machine…and eventually, with me strapped to a table and him using his hands on me.
And I let him, because although I knew better, I also didn’t know better. Maybe this really was what you did, you “submitted” to what the “Top” wanted to do, especially when what he was doing was “good for you.”
Besides…he was a doctor. There was an element of authority there that I didn’t know how to question, although I had been questioning authority of all kinds for as long as I could remember. But within this context, in this new world that I was just becoming acquainted with, I wasn’t supposed to question authority.
I have this weird thing. I broke my tailbone when I was 12, and it healed crookedly. The other day W noticed it for the first time, how crooked it is, how much it sticks out. We laughed about it, about this little quirky physical trait of mine and about him not noticing it til we’d been together for a year…but of course I think about it, that tailbone, how weird it is, every time I see this person now, out in the community with his wife/sub, still strutting around like he is someone to be “respected.” Because my tailbone was what finally made me say “no”, this isn’t okay, this isn’t what it’s supposed to be.
He’d noticed my tailbone as well, of course.  And he convinced my ex that he could “fix” it for me. What he didn’t tell my ex was the method he was going to use.  He convinced my ex to allow me to go see him for the “treatment.”  After hours, of course. In his office. Alone.  I can’t remember why my ex even agreed to let me go there that way. Maybe he was working, maybe he was convinced this was a legitimate medical procedure?  I don’t know. To be truthful, I still don’t know if it was a legitimate procedure.  I do know that he used my trust in him as a doctor to take advantage of me, to get me into a position where my acquiescence would be, if not automatic, at least much more likely.
He claimed that he could manipulate my tailbone just as he did the rest of my spine, and that moving it back into alignment would alleviate a lot of my back pain.  Sounded legitimate.  But what he only told me after I got there, when I was alone with him, was that he was going to manipulate my tailbone it from the inside: by inserting his fingers into my anus and gradually, over time, moving it back into place.  This would, of course, take many such treatments over many appointments.
I feel so stupid now, thinking about it.  Of course this couldn’t be done.  But…I trusted him.  Trusted him as my doctor and as a “friend” and as a Top “respected” in the community. I cringe now to think about it. But because I will always be honest here, I’ll also say that there was apart of me that got off on the idea. Even though I didn’t know it then, that was my first hint that the idea of ass play and medical play could be a turn on.
Still…being submissive doesn’t mean being rendered suddenly brainless.  And when it came right down to it, when I stood there in front of him in his dark, empty office, and he told me to disrobe, and that he was going to strap me down to the table for this treatment, that I would be strapped face down, my legs spread as he pushed his gloved fingers into my ass, I realized there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen.  At least not under the pretense of it being a real medical procedure.
I don’t recall how I got out of there.  What I said, what I did. I think I’ve blanked it out. All I know was that I left, without ever letting him touch me, and I never spoke to him again. I never told my ex what he’d proposed, what he’d wanted to do.  I don’t recall how I explained my sudden aversion to him, what my ex thought. I was too ashamed, too embarrassed that I had been taken in at all by this person.  I’m smarter than that.
But sometimes…there’s part of me that almost regrets not having gone through with it.  What would it have been like, crossing that line so thoroughly? Blurring that line between consensual/non-consensual? Fuck, it might have been hot.
And that I can even think that is fucked up in ways I don’t even want to examine.

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