WHY DO BEAUTIFUL WOMEN, BOTH MARRIED AND SINGLE, LITERALLY THROW THEMSELVES AT THE FEET, INTO THE ARMS AND BEDS OF MEN IN AND ALLIED WITH THE MEDICAL PROFESSION?
WHY DO TEEN-AGE GIRLS AS WELL AS MATURE WOMEN FALL SO EASILY FOR THE FAR-OUT LINE OF SEXUAL PERVERTS AS LEGITIMATE DOCTORS AND WILLINGLY, ALMOST EAGERLY SUBMIT TO THE MOST OUTRAGEOUS SEXUAL DEMANDS OF THESE IMPOSTERS?
WHAT IS THIS SEXUAL FASCINATION THAT THE "MEN IN WHITE" (INCLUDING PHARMACISTS, ORDERLIES, AMBULANCE DRIVERS AND OTHERS) HAVE FOR SO MANY WOMEN?
THIS BOOK EXPLORES THIS SO LONG OVERLOOKED SEXUAL PHENOMENON WITH FRANK AND ILLUMINATING CASE HISTORIES. IT IS A BEHIND-THE-SCENES EXPOSE OF WHAT GOES ON IN HOMES, OFFICES AND EVEN SOME HOSPITALS BETWEEN CERTAIN DOCTORS, PATIENTS, NURSE'S, DRUGGISTS, ETC.
READ HOW CERTAIN HOSPITALS OFFER NOT ONLY BED AND BOARD BUT ALSO BEDS FOR THE (SEXUALLY) BORED AND SOMETIMES EVEN BEDS FOR BAWDS. THEY CAN BE REFUGES NOT ONLY FOR THE SICK BUT ALSO FOR THE OVERSEXED.
Preface:
This book is not intended to be, by any weird stretch of imagination, an indictment of the medical profession or any of its related employees; nor of hospitals, public or private. It is not an indictment of any kind. It is, instead, a lengthy, realistic critique, an in-depth study of and report on the strange proclivity of an amazing number of females toward desiring and actively seeking sexual relations with the "Men In White." The latter term is not necessarily limited to physicians and surgeons. In perhaps a somewhat lesser proportion, it also applies to almost any male who wears the white "hospital" or "medical" jacket-the dentist, the anaesthetist, the hospital orderly, the ambulance driver, the chiropractor, the pharmacist. Frequently the white jacket isn't even necessary; the professional look or manner, the professional environment is enough, as in the case of psychiatrists and/or hypnotists.
This treatise will also treat in lesser degree, the fascination that men have for the "Women in White," the female physician, the nurse, registered or practical, the nurses' aides, even female medical social workers.
Because hospitals are a natural environment for the development of these relationships, we shall take a close look at the behind-the-scenes activities in some of these institutions.
Let it herewith be stated unequivocally that most hospitals are operated in an orderly, well disciplined, highly orthodox manner. Unfortunately, some are not. Let it also be made ringingly clear that most doctors, nurses, interns and other hospital personnel, and most dentists and pharmacists are of the loftiest professional and moral character. As applies in most other professions, some individuals are not. When such is the case, the professional man so involved is usually the victim of a sexually predatory female, so bent on having an affair with him, she will stop at nothan orderly, an ambulance driver, or a pharmacisting. Few men in any profession would be able to resist such attractive and sexually aggressive tactics.
It is exactly this facet of the situation which this book intends to explore, with many revealing case histories of the women involved, exposing the facts leading to their later sexual obsession with members of the medical profession. Too many women, particularly in America, fall into this category. Psychiatric reports show that some women cannot obtain full sexual satisfaction unless the act occurs in a hospital or a doctor's private office.
Why is this? Why this wide spread compulsion on the part of so many women toward needing sexual relations with a doctor, a dentist, an intern, an orderly, an ambulance driver, a pharmacist?
Some authorities claim that it is because these men represent an "authority figure," a "god-like image" because they hold power over life and death, sickness and health, can relieve pain, administer drugs and medication. They say that frequently because of this, they attain a mystical status for some women. The white jacket and dangling stethescope and/or the little black bag and professional or bedside manner seem to symbolize this status.
Most physicians are also usually strong, authoritative personalities, with the ability to make quick, firm decisions when necessary; to be able to evaluate properly because of years of schooling, professional training and experience. These are traits highly attractive to most women.
Whatever the myriad of reasons, it is, nevertheless, a fact that men in the medical profession and the jobs allied with it, do have an almost irresistible sexual fascination for a great number of women. This is proven by the tremendous demand and success of books, both fictional and factual, dealing with the subject. "Doctor and Nurse novels are always highly popular; the majority of their readers are female. "Nurse" novels are among the most popular with teen-age girl readers. Hospital and doctor shows have long been the most popular on Television. "Dr. Kildare" and "Ben Casey" are only two examples. Even in "Peyton Place" the town doctor is a key romantic figure.
It is not a far step from romanticism of this sort to become when possible, actual personal involvement. Is it any wonder that the famed "bedside manner" often leads to "bedside mania" on the part of women patients?
In exploring the detailed case histories that follow it is hoped that some insight to the problems involved may be achieved. Perhaps less broken homes will result. Perhaps greater resistance to this compulsion will be achieved by some women when they realize that "falling in love with" or actually having an affair with the family physician is not something to brag about, is not just a cute "romantic" foible of theirs, but a symptom of an acute emotional disturbance.
The data compiled in this book is the result of a detailed investigative survey in various parts of the country. In some instances dramatic license has been taken with certain situations for the purpose of easier readability. For the same purpose lay terms have sometimes been substituted for medical or scientific ones. Actual names and identifying characteristics of the people involved have been changed to protect their privacy. Otherwise, all material is basically factual.
CLYDE GRIFFITH, New Orleans, 1967
CONTENTS
1. Medical Imposters On The Telephone
2. Door To Door Phoney Physicians
3. M.D.'s Have Sexual Needs
4. Playing Doctor
5. Medical Homosexuals
6. Pharmaceutical Fakes
7. Blackmailing Abortionists
8. Private Rooms-Private Treatments
9. Love Nest On Wheels
10. What About Doctor's Wives?
11. Beds And Bawds
CHAPTER ONE
Medical Imposters On The Telephone
Sex criminals have long been aware of the neurotic fascination that men of the medical profession have for most women. Not only a fascination but an all but blind faith and belief in anything that is told to them or asked of them, even by the most odious of characters working under the guise of being a physician. Many perverts and sexual psychopaths, consequently, pose as doctors and by this simple ruse are practically invited by their women and young girl victims to have their way with them. It is obvious that if a man claims to be a physician, has cleverly copied the professional manner, gives out with a pseudo-medical mumbo-jumbo of conversation, the female is immediately taken in and wouldn't even think of asking for credentials, questioning the character's aims-even though he is a complete stranger to her.
In a radio interview, Gerold Frank, distinguished author of the best-selling fact-crime book, "The Boston Strangler," dwelled at some length on the gullibility of women in talking with men over the telephone or in opening the door to them, while they're alone-especially if the phony doctor approach is used.
The following case histories based on actual incidents reported to the police of a large Eastern seaboard city, point up the validity of his assertion. We hope that they will also serve as a warning to other women and young girls not to be taken in by similar ruses. In each instance, the approach of the criminal is so far out, so incredible that it's hard to accept the fact that anyone would believe them. Unfortunately, they did. It is assumed that the pseudo-medical approach in both instances numbed the victims past all common sense.
CASE HISTORY
ROSITA A.-Age 14
Like most girls from South American countries, Rosita matured early. At 14, she was a very pretty girl, with shoulder length black, shiny hair and a lushly developed body. She was attending school here on a student's visa and was a guest of Mr. and Mrs. J.B., where she earned her room and board baby-sitting and doing some light housekeeping work. Her father, a South American contractor, was a business friend of Mr. B's; he wanted his daughter to have one year of American schooling.
Although she spoke English fairly well, Rosita was a rather shy, retiring girl, which makes the events that occurred that much more fantastic. It must be remembered, though, that Rosita was in a strange country and that in her own country the word doctor is regarded as an almost royal term.
On this afternoon, Mrs. B. had taken the children out and Rosita was home alone. She had just washed her hair and was wearing nothing but a thin, cotton wrapper. It was early autumn and still quite warm. Because of her strict Latin American upbringing and the careful guardianship of the B's, up to this point, Rosita had never had any kind of sexual experience. She knew all the facts of life, of course and for a couple of years now had upon occasion felt the natural stirrings of desire but always because of her strict religious upbringing, had ignored them or sublimated them in some way.
This afternoon, right after she had finished drying her hair, the telephone rang. Rosita answered it. A masculine, well modulated voice asked in cultured tones: "Hello? Rosita A-?"
"Si," she said.
"Rosita, this is Dr. T-, of the U.S. Immigration Service."
"Oh, si, si," Rosita said, her heart beginning to beat faster. Although unfounded, most immigrants have an awe, if not a fear of this department.
"Well, Rosita, I suppose you know that all aliens are supposed to come in for a complete physical examination, after they've been here three months."
She gasped. "Oh, no, Senor-I mean Doctor, I did not know that. I am sorry."
The voice sounded stern. "A notice was sent to you."
Rosita paused, really worried now. "I-I am sorry. I no receive. Honestly! I swear it."
The man chuckled. "Well, these things do sometimes get lost in the mail. Don't get yourself upset. It's not really that serious. You sound like a very serious, sincere young lady, so I'll accept your word about not receiving the notice. But because of the time elapsed already, we can't have any further delay. Something must be done right away."
"Oh, si, doctor. When should I come down?"
The man hesitated, cleared his throat. "Well, my dear, there isn't really time for that, now. Then, too, it isn't actually necessary. I can give you the examination right over the telephone."
"You can?" Rosita's voice registered surprise. "But-but I don't see how, senor-I mean doctor."
"Oh, it's quite simple and probably will be a lot less embarrassing, too. Now, let's get on with it, Rosita, shall we?"
"Well, si," she said, hesitantly.
"All right, now. First, of course, you must disrobe."
"You mean-take off my clothing-all of it?"
The voice became impatient. "Yes, yes. Now, you mustn't question what I tell you, Rosita, nor feel shy. After all, I am a physician and I can't even see you, remember?"
She thought about this a minute and then shrugged in a Latin gesture of resignation. She said: "All right. Hold on a moment."
She set down the phone and quickly shrugged out of the wrapper. Her eyes darted toward a living room mirror where she could see her reflection. Her naked body was suffused with a rosy blush, she saw, the dusky nipples of her large, globular, tawny breasts popping out in unaccustomed excitement at the strangeness of this situation. She shivered and picked up the phone again.
"I am ready senor, doctor. What is next?"
During the next few minutes Rosita became completely relaxed and off guard because his instructions and requests seemed quite professional and completely in order. He told her how to take her pulse and her heartbeat and give him the count. He asked about scars and birthmarks about her body. He asked for her age, weight, height and measurements.
When she told him that she was thirty-eight, twenty-one, thirty-six, he gasped, said: "You must have a beautiful figure, my dear. Especially your breasts. I'm beginning to regret that I'm not personally conducting this examination."
Embarrassed by this personal turn in the conversation, Rosita didn't know what to say, didn't answer. The man, realizing what had happened, quickly covered up. He coughed, cleared his throat and again in an impersonal manner, said:
"All right. Now, let's get on with it, now that the preliminaries are over. The remainder of the examination is most important and you must follow my instructions quickly and implicitly, answer my questions precisely."
"Si."
"Rosita, take one hand and cup your right breast."
"Cup? I-I do not understand," she stammered.
"Take it in your hand, hold it in your hand," he instructed. "It's quite all right. We're making a simple examination for cancer of the breast."
"Oh," she said, relieved. Her hand moved to her breast, filled with the hard, marble smooth jutting roundness of it.
"Are you holding your breast in your hand, now?"
"Si, doctor."
"Good. Now you must caress it, rub it, stroke it with your hand, every once in a while squeezing it gently." As he said this, the man's voice became husky as though charged with emotion, his words became a little thick sounding, excited.
Nervously, Rosita did as she was told, as he continued: "Now, my dear, rub your thumb against the nipple-oh, first, as you squeezed and fondled your breast, did you notice any lumps or tiny swellings."
"No."
"Good," he said. "Now, as you rub the nipple does it respond, has it risen up, hard and excited?"
She glanced down at herself, saw the pointed, dusky tips of both breasts now fiercely distended. As her thumb brushed the nipple, she felt a warm, nervous flow of excitement flush through her whole body. Then the voice told her:
"Answer me, Rosita. Is the nipple good and hard?"
"Oh! Oh, si!"
"Fine. Now gently pinch it between thumb and forefinger."
She did as she was told, the flood of sensation within her, increasing.
"Are you doing that, Rosita?"
"Uh-huh."
"All right, now take the nipple between your two middle fingers and squeeze it there. While you do that, cradle the telephone on your shoulder to keep your other hand free-Now, take the other hand and put it on the other breast and squeeze that one and play with the nipple. Are you doing that?"
Her affirmative answer was barely audible but her hands were now squeezing both breasts, teasing the angrily erect peaks.
"Do you feel any pain, Rosita? Does it hurt to play with your lovely breasts that way?"
"No, not-not pain."
"Ah, that's a good sign that there is no cancer present. But you do feel some sensation, don't you? Could you describe it? Does it excite you?" The man's own voice was now so excited he was almost spluttering.
"Well-" she hesitated.
"Don't feel guilty or embarrassed, my dear, if it feels good to you to caress your own breasts. It's perfectly natural. Lots of young ladies your age like to do that."
Poor, naive Rosita felt a little relieved. Then the fake doctor told her: "So much for that phase of the examination. Now, keeping one hand on one of your breasts, take the other one and place it on your vagina."
She gasped. "On my-?"
The man drew a deep breath, controlling the excitement in his voice. Now, quite sternly, he said: "Rosita, please cooperate or it will be necessary for you to come down here and go through this whole examination all over again, in person."
"Oh! Oh, no," she said. "I do what you say."
"All right then, are you holding yourself down there?"
"Si," very faintly.
"And your other hand is still cupping and squeezing your breast?"
"Si."
"Okay, now this is simply a combined reaction test for cancer. You know, I'm sure that the breasts and pubic area of the female body are the most likely places for cancer to strike, so that this examination is most important. If you were here in person, I would have to conduct this test myself. It's much easier for you, this way, is it not?"
"Oh, si," she murmured, heat flooding her at the very thought of a man-even a doctor having his hands on her most intimate parts while she stood before him, naked.
"Now, Rosita," the voice said. "Using your forefinger, gently rub yourself between the legs, pushing it between the labia or lips, down there."
As she complied, Rosita could only gasp. She had never touched herself down there, except with a wash cloth, when bathing, and that, infrequently. She was hardly prepared for the flood of sensation that engulfed her as her finger followed his instruction. Next he asked her if her actions were causing a moist reaction. When the answer was affirmative and he could hear her excited breathing, his instructions became more bold, followed more rapidly. He told her how to discover her clitoris, how to excite it into rigidity and once she started this action, Nature quickly took over and Rosita felt herself swamped with sensual feelings of such intense sexual excitement that she could hardly stand it. She shuddered and shook and her hips began to move involuntarily in rhythm with her digital exertions.
For a moment she was caught completely unaware as the voice now wildly excited, said huskily: "Oh, that's right, Rosita! Do it good, honey! It feels so good, doesn't it? The faster you do it, the better it feels."
"Oh, si, si!" she almost groaned it as she rapidly began to approach climax, not knowing exactly what was happening to her, not caring, overwhelmed by the blinding intensity of the sensation.
Then the man on the other end of the line lost all control, dropped all pretense. He suddenly began urging her on with the most obscene terms, at the same time telling her that he was doing the same thing to himself, giving her a detailed description.
When Rosita heard this she was so horrified and shocked that for a moment she couldn't believe it. Her hands flew from her body. She listened another few seconds to the man's excited, rambling, obscene blatherings and then as a small scream escaped her throat, realizing how completely she'd been duped, that the man wasn't a doctor at all but a sex pervert, she slammed the telephone back in its cradle. She turned and ran shaking and sobbing, hysterically, into the bathroom and locked the door.
A few minutes later when Mrs. B. and the children returned, Rosita was still locked in the batthroom in a severe state of hysterical shock. It took nearly an half an hour before Mrs. B. could get her out of there, quiet her down enough to garble out some explanation of what had happened.
Unfortunately, some women wouldn't have been smart enough to take the action Mrs. B. did. They would have been too embarrassed, figured that it was better to forget the whole horrible incident. But Mrs. B. was both indignant and angry. She called the police.
Because of certain aspects of the man's approach, that he knew Rosita's name, that she was an alien, the police suspected that the man must be somebody who knew the family. They took down the names and addresses of all male acquaintances of the B.'s. With the cooperation of the local telephone company, a tap was put on those wires.
The man was caught, shortly afterward. He was a neighbor who lived two houses away, on the other side of the street. That day he called, he had seen Mrs. B. leave with the children. He had been awaiting just such an opportunity. The man had been caught, later, making a similar call. When confronted by the law, after prolonged questioning, he confessed the call to Rosita and a number of other similar ones made in the past six months.
After a brief trial, he was convicted and incarcerated.
It should be noted here that this is by no means an isolated incident of a sex criminal impersonating a member of the medical profession to achieve his perverted goal. Police records in almost any major city list similar complaints. One of the most common types of calls by phone involve the caller claiming to be a doctor making a scientific survey of the sex habits of the American female, along the lines of the Kinsey Report. It is almost unbelievable how many women will pour out the most intimate details of their sex life, under clever questioning, in going along with this ruse.
Law enforcement agencies feel that the one sure way to limit "Phone molestation" of this sort, is for women to be informed beforehand that they are subject to such a telephone call and that if it does happen, they should cut the call short immediately and then inform their local telephone company and the local police department. Parents should also pass this information along to adolescent children.
The telephone obsessed sex criminal relies on the elements of surprise and ignorance for his success. Without them he is much more likely to be doomed to failure.
CHAPTER TWO
Door To Door Phoney Physicians
Even more dangerous than the pervert mentioned in the previous chapter, is the door-to-door phony doctor, who carries out his nefarious scheme on a personal basis. Once again we will see that his success depends on two facets of his approach.
One is the use of the dread term, cancer. Most women, even though perhaps only subconsciously, live in fear of this disease. Because of this they frequently put off regular physical examinations, but when such an opportunity is suddenly thrust upon them, they can't seem to resist accepting it. Since such an examination involves the breasts and genital and anal areas, it is made to order for the sexual quack.
The second factor is the successful degree to which the man impersonates a physician. If he "looks" and "talks" like a doctor, is glib, has some knowledge of medical terms, and carries a little black bag, he is frequently a shoo-in.
The man involved in the following-case history, was successful to at least some degree in his "visits" to nearly one hundred women, before he was finally apprehended. Possibly one reason for his success was that he was never too insistent, he never actually committed rape. He seemed to be satisfied in some instances just to be able to look at and fondle under the guise of "examination," a woman's breasts and/or her more intimate parts.
CASE HISTORY
Mrs. Verna D.-Age 28
Posing as Dr. X, representing some mythical cancer research foundation, he would explain to the woman answering the door, that his society understood that a great many women were too busy or lacked funds necessary for such a checkup. Because of this they had instituted this house to house campaign wherein the woman could be examined in the privacy and comfort of her own home. If the woman seemed to show any fear or doubt, the man would not press the point, would quickly make the statement that of course he understood that she would probably want to be chaperoned by her husband or if she wasn't married, by a woman friend and he would come back at her convenience. Of course, in these cases, the woman never saw him again.
If the woman who answered the door wasn't young and attractive, didn't appeal to him-or if a man answered-Dr. X. forgot his project and claimed to be a physician on a house call who had apparently gotten the wrong address and he was sorry to disturb them. He would then take off, post-haste.
He later told the police that about one out of every five calls he made, was a successful "visit." He was, of course, an attractive man, tall, middle-aged, distinguished looking, pleasantly aggressive, his pseudo professional manner quite polished.
He appeared at the apartment of Mrs. D. on a summer afternoon during the middle of the week. Mrs. D. was a pleasant faced if not exactly pretty woman of twenty eight. She had been married seven years. At the time, because of the heat, she was wearing only a slip. She opened the door only about half a foot, at first. Then, as she looked Dr. X. over, saw the little medical bag he was carrying, listened to his spiel about cancer research, she was immediately taken in and opened the door wider.
Dr. X. had mixed reactions to that. First he was fascinated by her state of undress, the way her small but high set breasts were lined by the thin cotton of the slip, the way the nipples pointed against it. Secondly, his hopes fell as he saw Mrs. D.'s husband, sitting on the sofa, holding a bottle of beer and watching a baseball game on television. Mr. D. was an unshaven, bleary-eyed brute of a man about 250 pounds.
Then Mrs. D. blurted: "Oh, I think this is a splendid idea. I hate going to hospitals or a doctor's office. Somehow, it scares me half to death. Yet I know what a danger cancer is and how important such an examination is. Please come in, doctor. Let me explain to my husband."
With some trepidation, the man stepped inside. Mrs. D. turned to her husband and quickly repeated the phony doctor's story. Mr. D. listened, alternately giving his attention to the ball game on television and looking over Dr. X. When his wife finished, Dr. X. quickly put in:
"Of course, sir, the examination will be conducted in your presence. Since you're busy right now, perhaps I can arrange to return at some other time."
Mr. D. took a long swallow of beer, frowned suspiciously, said: "You sure it ain't cost nothin'? I mean, I don't want to get no big bill for this, later."
"Oh, no, Walter, it's absolutely free, isn't it, doctor?" Mrs. D. broke in.
He nodded, trying to think of a way to believably back out of the situation. He really didn't want any part of "examining" this woman while her big ape of a husband looked on. Then Mr. D. said:
"Well, do I have to watch the damned thing?"
"Well-" the phony doctor said, hesitantly, searching for words.
Mrs. D. helped him out. "Oh, I don't think so, Walter, not if you don't want to. We could go into the other room, even, so we wouldn't disturb your ball game."
The big man shrugged, took another sip of beer. "Okay," he said. "Be my guest." He got up and walked over to the TV set and once again turned the volume up to full blast."
Mrs. D. then smiled and crooked her finger. "Come right this way, doctor." She led him down a short hallway and then turned into a bedroom where a large double bed was still unmade. Once Dr. X. had stepped inside, she shut the door, saying she couldn't stand it when Walter had the ball game on so loud. Even with the door closed, the announcer's voice was muffled but still audible.
"Now, then," Mrs. D. said, turning to face him. "What do we do, first?"
He glanced nervously at the closed door and then sighed resignedly. What the hell, he told himself, at least I'll have a look. Aloud, he said: "Well, you'll have to disrobe, of course." He gave her his "professional," reassuring smile.
Mrs. D. gave a small laugh. "That's fairly simple, hot as it is and the way I'm dressed and all."
She reached down to the hem of the slip and quickly whisked the garment up and over her head and off and stood before him, naked. He was hardly able to suppress a gasp of delight. Mrs. D.'s breasts were not only high and jutting and apple round but from their centers protruded pink points in what seemed to be an already excited state.
Mrs. D. regarded him with a wide-eyed, innocent expression, murmured: "It's funny but I never mind appearing undressed before a doctor. I guess it's because I know they're so used to seeing women without clothes, it doesn't mean anything to them."
"Ah. "Yes," he said, nodding solemnly. "Quite so."
He stepped toward her. "First, of course, a manual examination is necessary in order to search out any possible tell-tale lumps in the breasts."
He reached out, then and boldly cupped each round, smoothly warm breast, squeezing and kneading them gently, surprised now to see the already long nipples pop out to an even greater erectile state. He felt them punching almost pleadingly against the palms of his hands. He answered their call by taking each rigid tip between his fingers, gently pinching them there. He heard Mrs. D. gasp, saw a blush suffuse her face.
"I'm not hurting you, am I?" he said, quickly.
Her eyes averted, she answered: "Oh, no, it it's just that it feels-well-kind of ;funny." She gave a nervous giggle. "I guess it's because my husband never pays any attention to me, there. He's-well-I suppose you'd just say that Walter isn't a breast man."
"Oh, is that so?" he said, surprised and suddenly becoming bolder in his caressing of her breasts. "That's unfortunate because if I may say so, you are quite attractively endowed in that area."
"Oh, thank you, doctor," she said, her breath starting to come faster. "Is-is this all there is to the examination?"
"Oh, no, my dear. This is just the beginning. Next, I shall make the saline test. Just one moment." His hands then left the breasts and with first a nervous glance toward the closed door, he turned toward his little black bag, setting on the bed.
"Saline test? What's that? Will it hurt?"
"Not at all. In fact most women find it quite pleasant," he explained. He delved into the bag which was equipped with a stethescope, a small rack containing several vials of different colored liquids, some tins of patent medicines purchaseable at any drug store, some tongue depressors, an ordinary first aid kit and a container of balls of cotton. He took out a small vial of colorless liquid.
"You see," he continued. "Quite frequently the presence of a potentially cancerous growth can be detected at an early stage by the saline test, saline meaning salt, of course." He held up the vial, started to unscrew the cap. "We merely apply a dab of this Pelletier solution to the tip of the breast. If there is any saline presence, it will soon bring it forth."
"Oh," Mrs. D. said, interested but slightly confused by the pseudo-medical discourse. She watched him then take a ball of cotton from his bag and start back toward her. Before he reached her, the "doctor" again glanced nervously at the door. He said:
"Are you sure your husband won't be likely to get curious, come back here and interrupt us? You see this is a very delicate test, requires extreme concentration on my part. Then, too, it's of a highly personal nature and if your husband should burst in while the test is being conducted, he might not understand exactly what-"
"Oh, no," she interrupted. "When Walter's got the ball game on, you can't hardly drag him away from the set."
"Very well, then." He now proceeded to dampen the cotton ball with the plain water that the vial contained and then dabbed it against each of Mrs. D.'s still aroused nipples. She watched curiously. Then she harshly sucked in her breath in surprise as the "doctor" said, "Now, we shall test to see if there is any saline reaction," and bent his face forward and took the fiercely distended, dampened tip of her breast into his mouth.
He felt the sensitive tissue respond and swell to even greater length. Encouraged by this and now beginning to get violently aroused, he flicked it with his tongue while his lips gently pulled and tugged at the nipple.
Mrs. D. made a little moaning sound and whimpered: "Oh, doctor!"
He eased his mouth away. "Eh?" he said. "That wasn't so bad, now, was it? And I'm happy to tell you that there was no saline reaction. Now, let's try the other one, shall we?"
He bent his head toward the other breast which Mrs. D. almost eagerly thrust toward him, her face still flushed and her eyes beginning to glaze with aroused passion. His lips and tongue toyed with that one, too. Then he paused a minute to tell her: "While I'm making the saline test, I might as well also make a manual exploration of the gluteous maximus, as cancer has been known to occur in that area, too."
His lips went back to excitedly nibble at her breast while his hand slid around behind her and began squeezing and fondling the round firmness of her buttocks. In a few minutes he was almost beside himself with lust. This was one of the most delightful and cooperative "patients" he'd ever had. He was ready for the next step.
As his lips almost regretfully relinquished a pouting pink nipple, he told Mrs. D. "Ah! Good! Still no sign of a saline reaction. However, I'd like to make sure with one final test. As you well know, ma'am, the urino-genitary area is often suspect, so we must make a detailed digital examination there, as well. While I do that, it would also be best for me to make one more final saline test of the mammary glands."
Mrs. D. just nodded, dazedly and let out a little sigh as his mouth returned to her breasts, tonguing the sharp pink peaks, while his hand slid down over her tummy, gently rubbed her curl covered mound and then delved lower. As his finger pressed between soft folds, they opened welcomingly and Mrs. D. moaned aloud again. In a few moments her hips began to move involuntarily and her thighs clenched, imprisoning his hand.
"Oh, doctor," she gasped. "I-I'm sorry but I can't hardly stand that. I-well-you see, my husband hardly ever does anything like that. He-oh, he just more or less jumps on and a few minutes later jumps off. I-I guess that's why when you do this to me, I get so-so, you know-I'm sorry."
He released her breast from his mouth and smiled up at her, his face now as flushed as hers, his eyes revealing his excitement. "Don't worry about it, my dear," he told her, his busy finger now speeding up its action. "Believe me I don't mind your reaction at all. As a matter-of-fact, if you've been so long deprived, you deserve a little pleasure.-Incidentally, we have nothing to worry about because I find no evidence of cancer at all. I would say you're a very healthy young lady."
"Oh, thank you," she said, her breathing ragged. "Is-is the examination over, then?" There was a distinct note of regret in the question.
"No, not entirely. There's still one final test I'd like to make, if you don't mind?"
Mrs. D., beside herself with a sensual excitement she'd never known before from her husband's hurried, oafish love making, murmured: "Oh, no, no, not at all!" She no longer really cared what the doctor did, as long as it felt this good. Actually, she was now pretty sure that the "examination" had gone far beyond the call of medical duty and that the "doctor" was enjoying it as much, if not more than she was. She became sure of this, as she glanced down at his trousers, saw his violently aroused state, the bulk of it dwarfing any such sign she'd ever seen on the part of her husband, who, like some massively built men was not necessarily comparatively so well equipped.
Now he moved behind her and Mrs. D. shuddered with anticipation as she heard the sound of a zipper being yanked down. Then she gave a small cry as she felt the heat and rigidity suddenly pressed against her from behind, felt his hands move under her arms, clasp both of her breasts, his thumbs flicking at the hard nipples. Using no restraint, now, he jammed against her, murmuring endearments. After a few minutes, Mrs. D. cooperated fully, as he adjusted her legs and then thrust forward and up, bringing a squeal of joyous welcome from her throat.
They worked and rammed together for five minutes, with the surprised Mrs. D. climaxing twice before he exploded with her the third time.
And all the while the sound of the TV baseball announcer's voice came muted from the living room, through the closed door. And Walter D. gulped his beer and watched with intense excitement as his team ran up a four run lead.
When the session in the bedroom was completed, Dr. X. made a date to come back and see Mrs. D. for another "examination" the next day, when her husband wouldn't be home. He then went out and solemnly assured Walter that his wife was in perfect health and not in any danger of cancer and told him that they would later receive an official certificate to that effect.
When the phony doctor returned the next day, he didn't even bother to bring his little black bag and forgot all about his professional manner. Mrs. D., who for the first time in seven years of marriage had been fully sexually aroused, couldn't have cared less. This time they both stripped and disported themselves on the bed at their leisure.
Oddly, the doctor did not enjoy this session as much as the other and never returned to Mrs. D. again. Psychiatric opinion is that because of his compulsion, his particular form of perversion, a certain zest was lacking the second time. He missed the extra excitement usually supplied by the secretive, furtive aura of the "examination" type of seduction. It just wasn't any "kicks" for him to enjoy sex in a normal manner, even though the factor of adultery was present.
It was two "visits" after his dalliance with Mrs. D. that Dr. X. came a cropper of the law. A particularly attractive young woman, who was as intelligent as she was lovely, soon spotted the "doctor" for a phony and stalling him off the first time he knocked at her door, made a later
"appointment." She informed the police, who set up a trap.
The career of Dr. X. was over.
If it seems preposterous that anyone could fall for such a crude impersonation, bizarre approach, consider the now famous case of a man who for years posed as a physician and surgeon, actually performed successful operations, taught in medical schools. His story was made into a major motion picture called "The Great Imporster."
Frequently these impersonators have worked in hospitals as orderlies, have carefully observed real physicians' airs and mannerisms, have picked up superficial medical jargon, have learned something about medications. Apparently this is all that is needed, plus a tremendous amount of brass. It seems that people-especially women-never think of questioning the authenticity of a man who claims to be a doctor.
CHAPTER THREE
M.D.'S HAVE SEXUAL NEEDS
The dignified image of the medical profession has long been carefully nurtured so that the public fully accepts it. It is a fact for the most part. In the workaday world of the average medical man there is little opportunity for frivolity. He is constantly faced with illness, misery, death and tHe important decisions he must personally make, relative to these matters. The strain is terrific. Because of this-plus the fact that a physician is a human being like everybody else-he must have some relief from these tensions. At times, even though briefly, the facade of dignity must be dropped.
Anyone who has had the pleasure of being with a group of physicians on the golf course, in the gym, on the handball court, or at social functions, becomes aware of this. They drink, swear, disport themselves as do men in any other profession. As with ordinary men, their talk is frequently of sex. They appreciate and can laugh as heartily as anyone else over a really funny, off-color joke or story. In their off-duty hours, most doctors are simply warm, friendly, average human beings with the same strengths and weaknesses as all of us have. It is difficult for many people to realize this.
The friendly, often personal and frequently dependent relationship that doctors have with nurses begins early in their career, sometimes in medical school.
Some twenty five years ago, the author, while employed by a large Eastern university, had occasion to frequently visit the university's medical school and to become acquainted with some of the students. At that time (it may have since been outlawed, at least in some states) it was the practice of the Medical College to purchase unclaimed cadavers from the city morgue for use of the students in study of actual muscular and bone structure of the human body. The cadavers were always those of homeless men, usually vagrants, who had died by one means or another and whose corpses would have been consigned to Potter's Field, anyhow.
Study of the muscular construction of a dead man's body, with the skin stripped away, is a grim business with little opportunity for levity.
However, one day, one of my student friends told me, a cadaver was brought in while the instructor was not in the lab. It had not as yet been prepared for analysis and was still in a whole condition. The students were fascinated to observe that the cadaver was equipped with an appendage of phenomenal length and bulk. Even in flaccid condition it was nearly seven inches in length and proportionately thick. As the students gathered around there were a lot of macabre but also humorous observations and outright jokes concerning this phenomenon. A few moments later, some wag had a unique idea. It was discussed briefly and then put into action. With the instructor still absent, the appendage was cut off at the base, the base quickly sewn up and the whole thing placed in a jar of formaldehyde. The cadaver was then rewrapped and sent back to the morgue as unusable. The jar and its contents was quickly hidden just before the instructor returned. It was later smuggled out and encased in a box, wrapped as a gift package and sent by messenger to a nearby nurses' dormitory, personally addressed to a sexy young nurse who had had affairs with a number of the students.
For days this prank was the center of much hilarious discussion on the part of the medical students involved, helped relieve the grim tedium of their assiduous training regime. It was later learned that the bizarre presentation was passed around to some of the other nurses and became an object of much discussion and some merriment, among them. What eventually happened to it, is not known. It may still be a treasured memento of some nurse.
The point of this anecdote is to show the reader that there frequently is, almost must be, a letdown of the facade of dignity and professionalism, behind the scenes. Otherwise, people in the medical profession might break under the constant strain of their jobs. The key phrase here, is "behind the scenes." It seldom occurs in public which makes it difficult for the layman to believe that it happens at all.
The full extent of the incidents of sexual relationship between doctors and nurses is difficult to establish. The fact that this does occur will be admitted, though probably reluctantly, by almost any physician or nurse. It is no more a phenomenon than a similar relationship between any type of "boss" and female employee, let's say as an example, as between an executive and his attractive female secretary.
The reasons are the same. They work closely together, share the same problems. Propinquity often leads to romance and eventually sexual relationship where it might not otherwise have happened. An example is the following story of Nurse Jenny O. and Dr. Fred N., as told by a personal friend of Jenny's to a researcher.
CASE HISTORY
JENNY-Age 25
Jenny had her "cap" only a few years when she was employed by Dr. Fred N., a Dermatologist. In her early twenties, she was not a particularly pretty young woman, nor especially sexy looking according to today's image. She had large, soft and sensitive looking brown eyes but her nose was too short and too broad. Her mouth was overly large and her teeth slightly bucked. But she had an unusually good complexion, what is commonly called a "peaches and cream" complexion, the skin giving forth a rosy glow of health. She possessed a good sense of humor and was an exceptionally kindly, thoughtful person. She had a low, vibrant, slightly husky voice. Beneath her starched white nurse's uniform was a body that although it was not voluptuous, was well proportioned and extremely feminine. Jenny was dedicated to her profession. Brought up in a strictly religious household, it had been drummed into her head that sex was for married women only. On dates, Jenny never allowed a suitor any privileges other than "necking." She didn't even allow "soul-kissing." This, of course, did not make her very popular with men. After she finished training her dates they became few and far between. She devoted all of her time to her profession and to the constant new hobbies she picked up. Still, she was reasonably content, sure that before long she would meet the right man and on their wedding night could proudly offer her virginity.
She worked for several doctors before being employed by Dr. N. He was a man in his middle forties, good looking in a rugged manner, a former track star in college, he kept his athletic looking physique by weekly gym workouts. Jenny was attracted to him from the first interview. She told herself it was too bad that he was married and had been for over ten years and apparently happily so.
As the months went on, the relationship between Jenny and Dr. Fred N. ripened into something more intimate than the ordinary doctor and nurse relationship. There was never any overt evidence of this, though. It was a subtle thing, in which a sort of affection grew between them, an understanding. Dr. N. was a solidly professional man who in his fifteen years as a physician, had never "made a pass" at a nurse employee or a patient. He was reasonably happy with his wife, although she had become somewhat obese after bearing several children and this did not increase his sexual ardor toward her. In fact, in recent years he had been more and more sublimating' his sexual drive in extra work and in athletic activities.
The doctor was constantly attracted to Jenny by the unusually glowing smoothness of her skin. As a Dermatologist, constantly dealing in diseased or unhealthy skin of one type or another, it's easy to see how this would fascinate him. At times he would catch himself wondering if Jenny's flesh was like that all over. He would begin to become aroused at the prospect that this might be true. But then he would catch himself and tell himself to forget it, he would never know, anyhow, because obviously Jenny, although a pleasant and dedicated young woman, was just not that type so what was the sense in thinking about it.
On the other hand, after awhile, Jenny began to notice Fred, as she always thought of him, although she never had addressed him in that familiar manner, as a man, not just as a physician and employer. She would find herself studying the rugged angles of his profile, the square set of his shoulders and the vigorous way he moved and walked. She would notice the length and strength of his blunt tipped fingers, the fine black hairs on his wrists and the sides of his hands. She would find herself stirred and wondering what it would be like to feel those strong yet gentle hands on her own body. Then she would quickly check herself. Was she crazy or something, to be thinking things like that? He was Dr. N. to her, the man she worked with and happily married at that, so don't be a silly little ninny.
But then she would find herself waking at night after a dream about Dr. N. in a state of physical excitement she had never known before. Her breasts would ache, the ruby tips of them sticking up almost hurtingly hard. There would be a new and strange sensation in her loins. She knew of course, that this was sexual excitement brought about by the recurring dream in which she was giving Dr. N. a rubdown with alcohol. First he would be lying on his stomach, a towel covering his buttocks. She would be rubbing the alcohol all over his back and broad shoulders, kneading the muscular flesh and finding herself becoming more and more aroused. Then he would roll over onto his back, somehow magically whisking the towel about so that he was never uncovered, in the dream; she never did see his genitals.
Now, though, (in the dream) she would begin rubbing the alcohol solution into the deeply muscular, masculine chest, then into the flat planes of his stomach. All the while he would lie there, with his eyes closed, his big chest moving up and down with his even breathing. Then Jenny would begin rubbing down his legs, her fingers gently digging into the long, corded thigh muscles. At this point, in the dream, she would see the small towel that covered his loins begin to rise, slowly but surely, until at last the object that was causing this was at full tilt, acting on the towel like a tent pole. Fascinated, Jenny couldn't keep her gaze from what was going on. And then she would discover that as she rubbed down his thighs, her little finger caught in the edge of the towel. Gradually, she was pulling the towel away. In another few seconds it would pull free and his manliness would spring forth, fully exposed.
This never did happen in the dream, though. At the last possible second, just as Jenny's little finger was easing the towel completely away, she would awaken, gasping, in a wild state of excitement. It would be almost an hour before she would quiet down again. One time as she awakened, she experienced her first nocturnal orgasm. She was heaving her hips violently upon the bed, closing and opening her thighs, crying out her pleasure into the lonely darkness of her bedroom. She was aware of the excessive moistness the spasm had aroused.
The dream and its reactions upset Jenny. She didn't know what to do about it. She began, after several weeks, to catch herself staring at Dr. N. and remembering the dream and feeling heat flush all through her body almost as though she was feverish. She took cold showers every night before retiring. Sometimes it helped, somtimes it didn't.
The situation came to a head, late one hot summer afternoon. Shortly after noon time, something had gone wrong with the air conditioning in the doctor's office; it went off. The man couldn't get there to fix it until the next day. The temperature was in the nineties. Dr. N. called off all his appointments for the afternoon and went out to his Country Club to play golf. He told Jenny to take the afternoon off, too. She said she would but she would stay awhile, to clear up a little paper work, get out some bills. She said she could stand it a little while, with all the windows open.
After the doctor left, as Jenny began working, she discovered an error in her bookkeeping. It took her most of the afternoon, to find it. By that time she was perspiring and uncomfortable but she had been determined to find the back error in her books. It was nearly four thirty by the time she had done so. As she prepared to leave, she had a sudden notion. She didn't have a car and the bus ride home would take nearly an hour. Dr. N. had a private shower in his office. Why didn't she take a nice cool shower, put on the clean clothes she kept in the office, before starting home? She would then be clean and refreshed and could go grocery shopping as soon as she got off the bus, not have to wait until she went home and showered and changed.
She then proceeded to do that, first making sure that the outer office door was locked. She stepped into the doctor's private lavatory, equipped with a shower stall, only partially closing the bathroom door. She quickly undressed. Sexual excitement immediately began to flow through her as she thought about Fred-Dr. N.-having stood in this small room so many times and disrobing, just as she had now done. As she stepped into the shower, the sensation became more intense as she stood under the stinging spray of water and lathered herself with masculin-scented soap. She visualized Fred standing under this same shower, naked. The nipples of her breasts perked out in an outrageous manner, as she soaped them. She almost swooned with a sudden hot wash of unbelievable sensation, as her hand gingerly and briefly soaped her pelvic area. It became so un bearable that she had to quickly rinse off and get out of the shower. She took a clean towel down from a shelf and began drying herself, as she stood before a full length mirror. She stared at her reflection, disturbed by the way the points of her round, nubile white breasts were still pricked way out, by the faint glowing flush of sexual excitement which still suffused her whole body.
She didn't know it that moment, but Dr. N. was also seeing all this and becoming even more disturbed than she was.
He had left the golf course early to stop by his office and pick up a medical journal that he wanted to study, that night. He had no notion, of course, that Jenny would still be there. He opened the outer door with his key and once inside became aware of the shower running in his private lavatory. He went through the reception room and into his private office just as the shower cut off. At the angle at which the bathroom door was partially opened, he was able to see the full length mirror inside. He stopped now, as he saw the reflection of Jenny as she emerged nude from the shower. He stared in surprise and awed admiration at her naked, rosy, still wet body, with droplets of water glistening all over it like tiny jewels. One of them clung to the tip of a distended red nipple as though loathe to leave that toothsome tidbit.
The doctor knew that he shouldn't be standing there, spying on his naked nurse but he couldn't help himself. What virile man could? Now, he watched Jenny take the towel and begin to dry herself. It was a stirring sight, the way her small but plumply round breasts jiggled and bounced in rhythm with her vigorous toweling. He noticed the fiercely erect nipples. He was aware of the warm-looking glow of health and sensuality that seemed to emanate from the all-over flawlessness of her skin. He saw that she had no ugly birthmarks nor moles, was devoid of body hair, except for the tiny triangular tuft at her apex. As she turned this way and that, he was treated to a full view of her highly arched, rounded buttocks that formed a perfect question mark from the base of her spine to the top of her thighs.
Dr. N. had not had sex relations with his wife for three weeks. The sight of his nurse, naked, toweling herself dry, instantly aroused him to the most violent state he had known for many months. He forgot everything that moment, that he was a physician, that he was a married man, that Jenny was a very circumspect young lady and an employee of his. He didn't think about the fact that by what he was about to do, he could be ruined professionally. He knew only that he was a man and this woman, at the moment, was the most desirable he had ever seen. He knew only that he had to have her, right then and there.
He moved silently forward and pushed the door all the way open. He said, softly: "Jenny! Jenny, you-.you're beautiful!"
She gasped, turned and saw the doctor standing there. She instantly held the towel in front of herself, covering her breasts and pubic area. Her long, smooth, gracefully curved thighs, creamy white and smooth, were still bared. Her partially covered body seemed to excite Dr. N. even more.
"Oh, doctor!" Jenny cried, aware now of the way he was looking at her, the deep flush on his face, knowing that the sight of her nudity had aroused him to a high pitch of sexual excitement. "I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't expect you to return. It yas-just that I was so hot and-and wanted to cool off before leaving and-"
"Don't! Don't apologize, Jenny," he interrupted. "There's no need. You're adorable, Jenny. I've never seen such a beautiful sight in my life. I could never get enough of seeing you like that."
She didn't answer. She didn't know what to say. She was overwhelmed by this man saying such endearing, flattering things to her. Her eyes dropped then and she saw the unmistakable evidence of his arousement. She felt herself go weak with sensual sensation.
He moved toward her as though drawn by a magnet. He said, hoarsely: "Jenny, don't hide all that loveliness behind the towel. It isn't necessary. In fact, it's a crime. Let me see you again, Jenny. Please, darling!"
"No!" she almost whimpered it. But then he was close to her and he reached out and put his hands on her upper arms. His eyes blazed into hers. His hands caressed and kneaded the warm, smooth, still damp flesh of her upper arms. He eased her toward him. One hand went to her chin and he tilted it and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her gently at first and then more demandingly. His lips twisted savagely against hers and his tongue probed, finally forced itself between her soft, moist lips. She felt the erectile slickness of it flicking inside her lips and thn finding her own tongue. Shivers shook her and she felt dizzy and weak as water. She offered only token resistance then, as he pulled th towel from in front of her, now hugged her nakedness tightly against him.
Now, both their tongues were sensually dueling as she felt her bared breasts throbbing against his chest, felt the aroused maleness of him, pressing the softness of her tummy. His arms went around her, cupped and dug into the firm flesh of her buttocks, urging her more tightly to him, from the waist down.
When his mouth finally broke away from hers, she murmured faintly: "No! Oh, no, please, doctor!"
He ignored her. His mouth moved to the side of her throat, sought out the nerve centers there and his lips and tongue aroused them. At the same time one hand moved between them and found the warm plump mound of her breast, squeezed and fondled, teased the already erect and tortured nipples.
Jenny was now in a delerium of desire. Her hips ground against his and she moaned her delight. Here was a fully matured young woman, healthy, with all the natural impulses too long restrained, suddenly being touched intimately, being expertly aroused by a man for whom she had long been fond and greatly admired. It was too much for her.
When his hand slid from her breast, moved down over the small mound of her tummy and touched her most intimate and sensitive area, she went wild. In less than a minute, she was brought to a furious climax that brought a long keening sound of ecstasy from deep in her throat.
While she was still weak and glowing in the aftermath, the doctor led her to his office couch, gently eased her down upon it. She watched him disrobe with feverish haste and then gasp with awed surprise at the vigorous dimension of that which she'd often dreamed about.
He then lay beside her and his lips paid homage to the thrusting hillocks of her bared breasts, pulling at the aroused peaks while his tongue flicked them, expertly. At the same time has hand was busy below. Once again Jenny responded rapidly and as she approached the climactic, he moved over her, spread her thighs. As she was invaded for the first time, a wild cry broke from her. She cooperated, instinctively, her long legs winding about him, her hips surging to meet the thrust of his, her nails digging into his back. She achieved a savage release three times before her lover finally joined her.
Afterward, they sprawled side by side, without talking. There was no need to talk, at that moment. In about fifteen minutes, Jenny became aware of remnants of her long unfulfilled needs remaining. She reached to the man beside her, her warm hand curling and capturing, as she raised slightly and leaned over him, began kissing his chest. In moments she was rewarded and slowly, tantalizingly, this time, they once again began their journey toward the summit of sexual pleasure.
This time, when it was over, Jenny cried. She was filled with guilt, remorse. Dr. N. tried to comfort her. He told her that neither of them could help it; it was just one of those things. He assured her that it would never happen again; they could go on just as though it had never happened.
It didn't work out that way, of course. Both of them tried to avoid it but eventually their passions, their psychological need for each other, caught up with them again. After their second session of love-making, they both lost all restraint; they gave up. They entered into a full fl-edged, wild and abandoned affair, had intercourse together whenever possible, sometimes two and three tames a day.
It ended when Dr. N. told Jenny that somehow his wife had learned of the affair. He either had to get rid of Jenny or be divorced. If the latter happened, his professional image would be badly damaged. Fighting back tears, Jenny left his employ that same day.
Shortly afterward, she had a nervous breakdown, was forced to seek psychiatric treatment and was eventually able to return to her profession in another city.
It is to be noted in this unfortunate situation that both parties were basically soundly moral of character, that it was provoked by an incident that neither of them could have foreseen. Although psychiatric opinion is that Jenny subconsciously wanted it to happen, that there was no really valid reason for her to use the doctor's shower. This is indicated by the fact that she left the bathroom door open, even though she knew the doctor had a key to his office and might re turn. Plus the fact that she became sexually aroused just by using the doctor's shower.
From his point of view, the same thing might have happened with any man. It is to be surmised that he never again violated his code of ethics.
CHAPTER FOUR
PLAYING DOCTOR
There is an old saying that "many a true word is said in jest." What this means is that frequently there is an underlying fact or truth hidden behind most humor. Sometimes it exposes a truth that might otherwise be unpalatable for some reason. Some cartoonists feel that this applies to the fact that a large proportion of magazine cartoon humor deals with either the doctor-nurse relationship or the doctor and/or nurse-patient relationship. The public instinctively realizes that some hanky-panky must occur in this area but finds it unpleasant to consciously accept the fact unless it is expressed in a humorous manner.
A good example of this (and one that also bears out the theme of this book, that sex-driven women are often sexually aggressive toward doctors) appears in the July, 1956 issue of Playboy magazine, in a cartoon by the talented and noted John Dempsey. It portrays a doctor's office, with a comely and completely nude young lady standing behind a dressing screen, her clothing on a nearby chair. She is applying lip rouge, while she looks into her compact mirror. On the other side of the screen, the doctor (incidentally, portrayed even though in cartoon style, as a suave, distinguished looking man!) is glancing at his wrist watch, impatiently, wondering what is taking her so long to disrobe. The interesting fact here is that the young woman is trying to make herself look even more seductive for the physician's benefit.
Another example (and hundreds could be used, if space allowed) appears in a two page spread in Man's Magazine, May, 1959. It involves 6 cartoons, selected at random from a paperback book published by Dell Publishing Co., of New York, called "Nellie The Nurse" The Man's Magazine caption refers to "Nellie" as this "Funny Florence Nightingale" Nellie is portrayed as a young and shapely nurse. In one cartoon she is wearing her nurse's cap and nothing else but a completely transparent nightgown, which covers nothing and is being braced in presumably a hospital corridor, by an older nurse who says: "I wish you wouldn't take the term 'night nurse' quite so literally."
A second cartoon shows a doctor's office, the doc sitting behind his desk and "Nellie" talking to a voluptuous looking young female patient, starting to come from behind a dressing screen. The lovely young patient is wearing only the top part of her clothing, her legs and well rounded derriere, completely bare. Nellie tells her: "That's not what the doctor meant by 'Strip To The Waist'."
Yet another cartoon shows a sailor, stripped to the waist, with a tattooed figure, nude, of Nellie, on his chest. As a doctor looks on, Nellie says: "I never saw him before in my life." And so it goes, through a whole cartoon book. There is nothing wrong with this type of humor; that isn't the point. What is interesting is that you can point with a wink and a grin at the humorous aspects of the sexually oriented relationships between, doctors, nurses and patients. This the public (and the profession) will tolerate. Yet, as soon as any serious attention is drawn toward the same subject the principals again become sacrosanct. In other words it is admitted that such situations do exist but no attention must be called to the fact unless in a humorous vein.
Unfortunately, all too frequently, there is nothing humorous about these situations. The following is such an example:
CASE HISTORY
MRS. DEANNA Y.-Ages 11-26
As far as is known, there has been no scientific treatise written about, no psychological explanation publicly offered, regarding the popularity among children of the game known as "Doctor and Nurse" or for variation, "Doctor and/or Nurse and Patient." Almost all of us have had the experience of playing this game as a child. Again it might be presumed that at the earliest age, children of both sexes are imbued with the idea that doctors and nurses are "special" people-as indeed they are. Thus, they are worthy of emulation, to the child's mind. Another possible explanation for the popularity of this children's game is that it gives little boys and little girls a quasi-legitimate excuse to sometimes fully "examine" and explore each other's intimate parts. The childish mind rationalizes, "Doctors examine people without clothes on, don't they? Then, since we're playing doctor, there isn't anything wrong with it."-Or-"Nurses give people rubdowns and massages, bathe them in the hospital, so if I'm playing nurse, I must do that, too."
It was in just such a situation that Mrs. Deanna Y, as a child, was initiated into the sensual world of sex play with the opposite sex. She was eleven years old at the time. Because there weren't any other little girls of that age in her neighborhood, at the time, her chief playmate was a boy a year younger, named Marty. Marty was a big boy for his age. He was also the proud owner of a toy "Doctor's" kit, complete with a toy stethoscope, head reflector, various packets of candy "pills" and a toy "thermometer," a plastic "little black bag" and even a small white "doctor's jacket."
One day when nobody was home hr Marty's house and Deanna was visiting him, they quite naturally, decided to play "doctor and patient." Marty donned the white jacket, adjusted the reflector band about his head and carrying his little black bag, "came to see" Deanna, who was "sick." Of course, being "ill," she must be reclining on the bed. The game started off innocently enough, with Marty very seriously "taking the pulse" of his "patient" and her "blood pressure" and "listening" to her heartbeat with the toy stethoscope.
Even at this tender age, Deanna was beginning to develop and for several months had been engaging in the preliminary stages of masturbation, though not yet to the point of climax. Now, as Marty used the "stethescope" he unwittingly placed it over one of her budding breasts. She was wearing no bra yet, at this early age. Through the thin dress she wore, the rubbing of the "stethescope" against her tender nipple, was quite noticeable. She experienced a pleasantly sensual reaction. After a few moments she decided that it might be even more pleasant if Marty's hand was involved.
"Doctor," she said, "My heart's beating so hard, you could probably feel it even with your hand. You don't even need that thing around your neck. Why don't you try it?"
Marty frowned seriously, said in a mock adult voice: "Very well, young lady. Let's see."
To make sure he didn't miss the target, Deanna took his wrist and guided his hand until it was palmed fully over the small round mound of her breast.
"You have to press real good, to feel my heart," she told him, then.
He complied and a delicious thrill ran through Deanna as his hand pressed into the small swelling of flesh. Her breathing became more rapid. She looked up at Marty, at the reflector on his forehead, at the "stethescope" dangling from his neck, at the white jacket he was wearing and she was reminded of their family doctor, a handsome young man of thirty, on whom Deanna had had a girlish "crush" since she was first taken to see him. Her sensual reaction increased as she imagined her real doctor, with his hand on her breast.
"Can-can you feel my heart beat?" she asked, excitedly.
Marty shrugged, looking a little flushed. He realized for the first time that his friend, Deanna, had "those things" and that he was actually feeling one of them with his hand. He didn't know, though, for sure, whether or not she realized this or if she didn't, if she suddenly became aware of it, she might get angry at him. Still, the sensation was not unpleasant to him.
He said: "Yeah. I can feel your heart beating a little, anyhow."
Deanna grew more bold. "I can help you feel it even better, doctor," she murmured. Then she took his wrist again and this time guided his hand to the bodice of her dress, and inserted his hand down under it and onto her small bare bosom. "There, now can you feel it good?" she asked.
Visibly excited, Marty mumbled something unintelligible but his hand was now busy squeezing and massaging her small breast, causing the tiny tip to spring up stiffly.
Now Deanna reached up and placed her own hand over his, holding his hand inside her dress imprisoned on her breast. "Oh, doctor," she crooned. "That feels nice! I like you to take my heartbeat this way!"
At the same time Deanna observed a small protrusion at the side of the fly of Marty's pants and was intrigued and curious. The sight of this increased the sensation that was now beginning to be very noticeable in her young loins-what she always thought of to herself as that "good feeling" that had been induced before only by self manipulation. She clamped and unclamped her thighs together, which made the feeling more intense.
Suddenly she had an idea. She eased Marty's hand from under her blouse and got up off the bed. She said: "I think, doctor, that I should have a complete examination-all over. And for that, I'll have to get undressed."
Marty gulped and gaped. "You-you do? I mean, you do? Are you crazy, Deanna?"
"Uh-uh," she asserted. "There's nothing wrong. You're my doctor, aren't you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I-I guess so," Marty mumbled, still slightly unbelieving, even as he watched Deanna whisk her dress up over her head and stand before him wearing nothing but a brief pair of panties. His eyes goggled at the sight of her small budding, pinkly tipped breasts. He swallowed excitedly then as he watched her hook thumbs into the waist of her underpants and ease them down over her still undeveloped hips but already smoothly plump and rounded thighs, until they dropped around her ankles.
"There!" Deanna said, excitedly. "I'm ready. But you know what?"
"Wh-what?" Marty managed.
"I don't think it's fair that the patient should be the only one undressed, do you? It-it would be less embarrassing if you were that way, too. All right?"
Before Marty could answer, she reached out and undid the waist band of his trousers, unzipped his fly and yanked first his trousers to his knees and then his underpants. She let out a little cry as she saw his boyhood spring forth, quivering and erect. Goosebumps broke out all over her and she shivered with delicious, sinful delight.
"Oh, doctor," she whispered. "I sometimes have pain here. Feel me and see if everything is all right."
She took his hand and guided it to her and then holding the tip of his finger against the most sensitive spot, she moved against it, working her hips. The sensation was more intensely pleasurable than it had ever been, doing the same thing herself. Especially at the same time being able to look at what she thought of as his "thing." She was surprised and pleased to note that it was much longer than she had ever surmised. A moment later, overwhelmed by childish curiosity, she reached out and took hold of it with her small hand. She manipulated him for awhile, as she moved against his finger and then with her other hand explored the small roundnesses that hung below.
After a few minutes more, though, as is frequently the way with young girls in their first sexual experimentation, she was suddenly "out of the mood." She yanked her hand away from Marty and moved his hand from her person. She stepped back.
"I don't want to play this silly ol' game any more," she said, petulantly. "Why not?" Marty asked, reluctant to end his own enjoyment.
"Because it's not really any fun and besides, it's nasty," she told him. She quickly dressed again. So did Marty and then, together, they quickly found some other amusement.
Several days later, Deanna was again visiting Marty at his home while his parents were out. He was the one to suggest that they play "Doctor and Patient" again. At first Deanna wasn't too interested and then she thought about it and then agreed. This time, though, Marty wanted to dispense with the game and just get undressed and "have some fun." Deanna would have no part of this. She insisted that she wouldn't do it unless Marty donned his "doctor" outfit and proceeded as before. Of course, he quickly acquiesced.
Later, while going through psycho-therapy, Mrs. Deanna Y. could not explain to the therapist why it had seemed so necessary for her to play the "doctor game," while going through this early sexual experimentation with a young male friend. It was suggested that perhaps making a "game" of it, relieved any guilt feelings she might have had, otherwise. Mrs. Deanna Y. neither accepted nor rejected that possible explanation.
This time, though, after she and Marty had gone through the preliminaries of their "game" and she had undressed and Marty had lowered his trousers and underpants, Deanna grew even more excited than the time before. She tried to show him how to more expertly manipulate her with his finger and when he couldn't seem to achieve the right motion, she impatiently removed his hand and began using her own finger. For the first time she began to approach climax and as the wildly pleasurable sensations increased, she suddenly dropped to her knees and eagerly fellated Marty. After a few moments of this, her fingering became furious and she brought herself to a writhing, bucking spasm of release.
In the next few weeks, they repeated the "game" a number of times and always with Marty dressed as a "doctor" and now it always ended the same way.
When Marty moved away from the neighborhood, Deanna was not too chagrined. About once a week, in bed at night, she would masturbate, fantasying at the same time what had happened previously with Marty. She achieved the same result.
A year later, Deanna acquired a slight rash in her genital area from too tight panties that had not been properly rinsed after being washed in a strong detergent. She complained about this to her mother and when it did not seem to clear up in a day or two, the mother suggested that perhaps she should let their doctor examine her. Surprisingly, to her mother, Deanna readily agreed to this. Since both her mother and father worked during the day, her mother made an appointment for Deanna to go to the doctor without her. She assured Deanna that it would be perfectly all right, as the nurse would be there all the time, during the examination.
At the time of the appointment, Deanna went dutifully to the doctor's office. With the nurse present, he examined her. Deanna became quite excited almost at once, at having her private parts exposed to the eyes of the handsome young doctor, although, of course, he showed no reaction at all. She immediately began to think of the "game" she used to play with Marty. She wished she could play it now, with the real doctor. If only that darned old nurse wasn't here, she thought, maybe we could.
Just then, the telephone rang in the outer office and the nurse left to answer it. Deanna was still lying on the examining table, the doctor standing beside it. He told her: "It isn't anything serious, Deanna. Just a detergent rash. I'll give you a prescription for a salve that will clear it up. You may pull your panties back up, now."
Suddenly, on impulse, Deanna blurted: "No. I don't want to." At the same time, she reached out and took the young physician's hand and put it between her legs, flush against her genital area and then clamped her thighs tightly, imprisoning it there.
(Many years later, recalling this incident, she told her therapist that the most violent thrill shot all through her at this intimate contact with the doctor's hand.)
For a few seconds, the doctor was so stunned he didn't know what to do. He stood there, looking down at Deanna's pretty, flushed young face, heard the sound of her suddenly agitated breathing, felt the pressure of her thighs, squeezing his hand and the sudden moistness of her that ensued, before he fully realized what had happened.
Then, shocked and frightened at the jam he'd be in, if the nurse suddenly walked back in, he forcibly yanked his hand free. In a stern manner, he said: "Deanna! What's the matter with you? That's not nice. Why did you do that?"
She smiled up at him. "Because I wanted to. Because it felt good, that's why. Didn't you like it?"
"Of course not," he answered, finding himself blushing. "Doctors don't do that kind of thing. Now, you get dressed at once, young lady."
For reasons not known, the physician, perhaps thinking the whole incident some peculiar kind of childish whim over which he would probably be better off not to make too much fuss, didn't report the incident to Deanna's mother. Or perhaps he was also afraid that the child might turn on him, in self defense and say that he had done it to her.
Deanna didn't forget the incident, though. Later that night, in bed, she relived the moment over and ovr, squeezing her own hand high between her thighs and pretending it was the doctor's, until the awaited spasm shook her.
There was no other incident until Deanna was thirteen, and now almost fully developed, physically. Then one day when her mother wasn't home, a druggist's delivery boy came to the door, asking if he could leave a prescription that had been ordered by a neighbor who wasn't home. At the time, Deanna was wearing thin, silken pajamas. Her now quite prominent breasts pressed out against the shimmering cloth, the nipples showing sharply.
The delivery boy was about eighteen, a towheaded, crew cut young man, quite good looking. He was wearing a white pharmacist's jacket. Deanna felt her heart begin to beat more swiftly as she looked at him. She also noticed the way his gaze was attracted to the punching of her hard, high young breasts against the silk of the pajamas.
She accepted the package, saying she would give it to the neighbor later and then just as the boy was about to leave, Deanna said: "You look like a doctor, in that white coat and all, y'know?"
He grinned. "I do?"
"Yes. Very much. Are you planning to study and become a doctor?" The youth shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."
"I think you ought to."
"Why?"
She batted her long-lashed eyes at him and stuck out her chest, causing her breasts to jut even more sharply. "I dunno. I guess, because you look like you'd make a nice one. If you ever did become a doctor, I'd like to be one of your patients."
He beamed, his eyes hardly able to leave their focus on the points of her breasts which were now distended and were quite clearly punching out the thin silk. "You would?" he said. "Then maybe that's what I'll be."
Deanna felt the familiar excitement rising in her. She said: "If I was sure you were going to study to be a doctor, I'd let you get some practice right now."
"Huh? What kind of practice?"
"First you got to tell me you're going to be a doctor."
He shrugged. "Okay. Okay, that's what I'm going to be."
"Okay, then," she said. "I'll let you have some practice if you want; you can examine me."
The boy's eyes goggled. "Ex-examine you? I-I can?"
"Sure," she said. "Come on in."
Once inside the house, he stood dumbfounded as he watched Deanna shuck first the pajama top, exposing her high, full, beautifully rounded young breasts, the darkly pink tips perked out tautly and then slip free from the pajama bottom, stand there nude before him.
She posed prettily, pleased with the obvious effect she was having on him. In a soft, coy voice, she said: "Do you like your patient, doctor?"
His breathing was already harsh. "Yeah," he gasped. "Golly, yeah!"
He moved to her, reached toward her breasts. She brushed his hand away, pouting a little. "Uhuh! First you got to examine me."
He looked startled. "How, for Pete's sake?"
"Well, you gotta take my pulse and then listen to my heart beat."
He quickly agreed, took hold of her wrist, pretended to count and then dropeed it again. "Okay," he said. "Pulse normal."
She pulled his head toward her bosom, placing one ear against the inside slope of her left breast. "Now listen to my heart beat."
The young man was able to stand the delay only a few minutes before he muttered: "It's okay. Your heart's beating okay. Nothing's wrong with it." Then he quickly turned his head and took a stiffened nipple between his lips.
Deanna gasped her pleasure at this first oral caress of her breasts and reached down with one hand to seize him, as she whispered: "And how is your pulse, doctor?" He didn't have to answer. The fulsome state of his excitement was evident to her squeezing fingers.
Some minutes later, after much mutual manipulating and caressing, the boy took Deanna while she perched her buttocks up on the edge of the dining room table. Afterward, she told the boy that if he could borrow a stethescope and a reflector from the drug store where he worked, he could come back and see her again. He readily agreed.
From then on, several times a week, whenever he could get away from work at the same time that Deanna's parents weren't home, he would come to visit her. She kept the medical apparatus he had borrowed from the drug store, hidden in her closet. He always had to wear his white coat and the stethescope and headband reflector, though, before she would allow him any privileges. Sometimes they performed intercourse; other times, Deanna fellated the young man.
This continued until a few months later when Deanna's parents moved to another part of the city, taking her with them.
At eighteen, Deanna became a nurse's aide. She became promiscuous with every doctor who would allow it. She was fired from several hospitals. She attempted a number of times to have intercourse with other men but found it completely unsatisfactory, was unable to ever achieve orgasm. She began going to doctors as a patient. Most of them rejected her boldly sexual advances; a few of them gave her what she wanted.
By the time she was twenty one years old, Deanna had married a much older man, because of his money, a great deal of which she spent on visits to doctors and for "rests" in private hospitals. She became more and more nervous and erratic in her behavior. She developed frequent and deep spells of depression. Finally she was induced to seek psychiatric help.
After several years of therapy she was able to achieve some degree of normalcy in her sex life with her husband, who had stuck with her. Still, every time she saw a doctor, she experienced a strong urge to have sexual relationship with him. Only now, with her greater insight, she was able to fight off the impulse, to eventually calm herself.
The foregoing is an unusual case. It is cited to illustrate the extreme degree to which the unusual attraction that doctors have for some reason can go, right up to the point of actual psychosis.
CHAPTER FIVE
MEDICAL HOMOSEXUALS
Laymen often wonder how physicians can continue to be sexually aroused after years of seeing women under unattractive conditions. The question applies especially to those who specialize in gynecology and obstetrics. As one man put it to the researcher covering the subject, uncouthly but to the point: "How can they even look at it in the night time after seeing it all day long?"
The conclusion reached after discussing the matter with a number of men who specialize in these branches of medicine is that with most of them, they are highly intelligent men, with well rounded personalities, who have been able to make a sensible, practical adjustment. The same question could be asked of a mortician, for instance, for whom it is probably even more difficult.
The answer is that most of these men are able to separate their professional life and duties from their personal ones. The women they see and examine during the day are treated as what they simply are, "cases," patients. The physician treats them in a friendly, interested, sympathetic manner yet at the same time remains detached, impersonal. In the evening, when he goes home to his wife or if he isn't married, dates an attractive woman, he is able to put his professional life completely out of mind; he is out with a woman, attractive, desirable, not a patient; his perspective changes completely.
This requires a fine balance of personality, of course, but most physicians are able to make the adjustment. They have to, to maintain their sanity.
Unfortunately, some very few can not make this adjustment. In these rare instances they are forced to seek other outlets for their sexual drive. As in almost any profession, Medical science has its share of homosexuals, both latent and overt, comparatively few though they are. There is some dispute about whether a man with homosexual tendencies is "born or made that way," whether his aberration is caused by glandular imbalance or is the result of environment and/or association, as for instance, a man who as a child, during his developing years was brought up in a family of girls or was treated almost as a female by a doting mother and/or sisters.
In the case of a latent homosexual who enters the medical profession it is easy to understand, especially if he specializes in gynecology or obstetrics, that his constant examination of women help him toward a heterosexual adjustment. In these rare instances the doctors have been known to abandon these specialties and turn to the treatment of male illnesses. Sometimes this enables them to again have at least a fairly normal association with women. In other cases they become overt homosexuals. It is a known fact, especially in large cities where there is a large population of homosexuals, that certain doctors cater only to this group, have little or no other practice.
The homosexual's medical problems are frequently embarrassing to him under normal circumstances. Among them there is a high incidence of venereal disease in the anal area. There is an equally high incidence of the need for a proctologist. It makes it easier, then, when one of his own kind can refer him to a "gay" doctor.
One unusual instance of an adjustment out of the ordinary that was made by an obstetrician, was brought to the attention of a researcher:
CASE HISTORY
DR. "M."
Dr. M. was an attractive, virile man of forty, a bachelor, who suddenly was no longer able to separate his professional life from his personal one. For a number of years he had been able to do this, had no difficulty obtaining dates and not much more difficulty in having sexual relations with them, when mutually desired.
Then suddenly, something happened. While out on a date with a beautiful young woman, after the preliminaries were over and they retired to her bedroom, dispensed with their clothes, he suddenly found himself impotent. This was embarrassing for both himself and the young lady, of course. At first he dismissed it as possibly being an isolated incident; something about the young woman's personality or her body, negating his desire.
The following week, though, the same thing happened with another attractive woman. The doctor began to worry. Especially when the same thing happened on several other later dates. He had himself physically checked and learned that there was nothing wrong with him on that score, so some kind of mental block must be involved. In discussing the situation with a psychiatrist friend, it was decided that at least subconsciously he had become repelled by the sight of naked female bodies and their more intimate parts, on a personal basis, although it still didn't bother him professionally. His mind now refused to separate the two situations.
A curious aspect of the situation that puzzled the psychiatrist was that Dr. M. was able to become fully aroused during preliminary love play, while the woman was still fully clothed. It was only when she undressed that his impotence set in. The psychiatrist suggested that Dr. M. try making love and having the woman disrobe only in complete darkness.
This was tried and still did not work. Even though he was completely unable to see the woman, as soon as their, naked bodies made contact, the same situation evolved. The doctor became impotent.
Naturally, the situation became more and more disturbing to him. Then, quite by accident, one evening, he discovered the solution to his problem. He had taken a very lovely girl of twenty two, out to dinner, then to a movie. He was strongly attracted to her and she made it obvious that she felt the same way about him. By this time, Dr. N. had had no sexual relations for several months and was consequently in quite an uncomfortable state. He was so attracted by this girl, Dolores, that even while holding her hand in the theatre, he found himself fully aroused. He prayed that his problem wouldn't plague him again, tonight.
When he learned that Dolores lived in a small apartment with another girl and that they would have no privacy there,; he suggested that they go to his apartment. Dolores, for some reason, seemed reticent about this and Dr. N. did not press the matter. Instead, he drove to a nearby park and stopped the car in a lonely, secluded place.
In a few moments he took Dolores into his arms and she snuggled there contentedly. Soon their kissing reached the feverish state, their tongues dueling avidly. He could feel the fullness of Dolores' breasts pressing against his chest. He was already in a vigorous state. When he unbuttoned her blouse, slid his hand inside and then forced her brassiere upward so that her breasts were freed, he almost went crazy. Her breasts were full and firm, filling his hands, the flesh of them sleek as warm marble. The points of them were already turgid and became more so as his fingers gently tweaked them. In response her tongue went wild in his mouth.
Soon they were writhing and twisting about on the seat of the car and he felt Dolores' hand creep into his lap, then boldly seek and find its goal. Her fingers squeezed and pushed and pulled. At the same time Dr. N. slid his hand up under her skirt, caressed the warm smoothness of her plump thighs, opening them after awhile so that he could caress her even more intimately through the thin silk of her panties.
Finally they were both so thoroughly aroused that Dolores nipped at his neck with her teeth and cried out, almost in anguish: "Oh, honey! I I can't wait any more! Come on, darling, come on! Take off my panties!"
He quickly complied while she undid his clothing and brought him out into the open. Then, after some awkward manipulating, since the front seat of an automobile is not the most comfortable place for intercourse, he was able to get over her and between her thighs, while she hooked one leg over the back of the seat and achieve his purpose. At the same time he buried his face between her exposd breasts, enjoying the sweet, clean scent of them and then took turns tonguing and sucking the erect nipples while he surged and rammed in complete abandon. They reached the peak of frantic release simultaneously. Afterward, until their breathing quieted, they remained in position, clinging to each other, in the pleasant aftermath.
Dr. N. was overjoyed. He felt that he was once more a man. A few moments later they both adjusted their clothing and smoked a cigarette and then the doctor drove her home.
A few nights later, he had another date with Dolores. He once again felt confident in his own manhood. After they went to a night club, they drove to Dolores' apartment. Her roommate was away for the weekend. After having a snack and a couple of drinks, they again began making love. Everything proceeded in order, until they retired to the bedroom and Dolores undressed. As he star ed at her nude body, beautiful though it was, his heart sank; he felt his manhood beginning to fall.
She watched him stop disrobing and saw the suddenly strange expression on his face. She said: "What is it, darling? What's the matter?"
He licked his lips, sought for words. "I-I don't know how to tell you. I-well-I'm no longer in the mood. I-frankly, Dolores, I can't make love to you tonight. I'm just-unable. I'm sorry."
She was an intelligent and sensitive young woman who realized that his reaction was very unusual and was deeply concerned about it. She finally pried the truth out of him. They talked about it for awhile and then she said: "I don't get it. The other night in the car, you were just fine," she rolled her eyes. "I mean, you were just great. How could that be?"
"I'm not sure," he said, thoughtfully. "But I'm beginning to get an idea. Do me a favor, put a robe on."
Puzzled, she did as he requested, taking a robe from the closet, donning it and tying the belt in front.
"Now, come here," he said.
She walked over to him and he took her into his arms. She clung to him and their mouths met and fused, their tongues again becoming busy. Almost instantly, Dr. N. became aroused once more. Soon he opened her robe at the top and began feeling her breasts, toying with the spiked nipples, then bent and began caressing them with his mouth. He didn't touch her any place else.
When both of them were again in a ready state, Dr. N. said, excitedly: "Have you ever done it, standing up?"
She shook her head. "Uh-uh. Why?"
"Well, we're going to do that, now."
"Why, darling?"
"Please! Please don't ask any questions, now, if you want to help me."
Then he started to undo his trousers, take down his shorts. He rested one hand on her hips and with the other, raised her robe. She gasped: "With my robe on?"
"Yes," he answered hoarsely. "It has to be."
"But-but I'm not-well, you know, ready, yet. You haven't even touched me there."
"I know," he admitted miserably. "And I can't. That's part of the answer. Could-could you get yourself ready?"
Her eyes went wide. "Myself?"
"Yes, yes," he pleaded. He took one of her hands and thrust it inside her robe. "Please. Just for a few moments-until you're ready for the other."
He watched her hand begin to move under the robe, timidly at first, then much more rapidly. He watched her beautiful eyes glaze and the sexual flush suffuse her face as she manipulated herself with one hand and him with the other. Her hips began to roll and then to buck. Her breath gusted from her wetly opened mouth at the intensity of sensation being induced by these bizarre conditions.
Finally, she cried out: "Yes, honey, now! Oh, yes, yes."
Dr. N., too, was more than ready. He moved against her and guided himself up under the robe. She straddled her legs apart and he squatted down lower and then surged upward. She let out a scream of ecstasy as he was imprisoned. Then, hugging, their mouths joined and tonguing, they worked together and Dolores was brought to the summit twice before Dr. N. finally exploded.
Later, discussing it, she said: "What I don't understand is that the other night in the car, you were able to touch me there, without any negative reaction."
He thought about this, then answered: "Yes, but only through your panties, remember. Apparently I'm no longer able to see or touch a woman there, without this psychological reaction, a complete loss of vigor."
She smiled and hugged him to her and kissed him lightly. "One thing I'll say," she told him. "It certainly was different."
Dr. N. had several other dates with Dolores. These times, she didn't bother to disrobe. They would just hug and kiss and then he would open the top of her dress, force access to her bare breasts and toy with them. Then she would reach up under her skirt and remove her panties and prepare herself for his massive invasion, as they both stood erect. The second time, she brought out a small stool from the kitchen, upon which she raised and placed one foot at the proper moment, making it easier for both of them.
The fourth time Dr. N. called Dolores up, she was quite cool. She told him she didn't know when she could see him again, if ever. When he questioned her further, she bluntly told him that she was tired of the only method he could apparently use; it was no longer any kicks to her; she thought it was a little sick for two people to make love only when she was practically fully dressed.
Dr. N. had to agree with her but there was nothing he could do about it. He never called her again. Upon occasion he would in the future meet another woman who seemed to understand and go along with his strange sexual phobia but then, they too would tire of the "game," refuse to see him again. He was finally reduced to hiring call girls, when his masculine needs became unbearable. There was no problem with them.
Later, under intensive psychoanalysis for several years, Dr. N. was finally rid of his problem.
CHAPTER SIX
PHARMACEUTICAL FAKES
"-Originally pharmacy signified the use of medicine or the practice of witchcraft and was intimately associated with the primitive rites of the tribal priest and medicine man, who served as the physicians....
"-not until the 19th century did the distinction between the pharmacist as a compounder of medicines and the physician as a therapist and prescriber of medicines become generally accepted."
-The New Funk & Wagnalls Encyclopedia In the minds of many of today's women there still seems to be considerable confusion on this subject. They regard pharmacy not as an adjunct of the medical profession but virtually as part of it. All too frequently they go to their neighborhood druggist with health problems, many of them personal, which should only be brought to the attention of their physician. To the credit of most pharmacists (and also modern laws on the subject, which have become much more strict) they pleasantly and diplomatically refuse to be drawn into the trap of diagnosing and prescribing. Some few, however, in some instances, let's say if the woman is a good customer and unusually attractive, still are tempted into diagnosing minor problems and prescribing.
There are unscrupulous druggists just as there are unscrupulous doctors. Again, fortunately, they are few and far between. Again, though, the profession is not sacrosanct. In this day and age of huge, cut-rate chains of drug stores, the pharmacist is frequently only an employee of the chain, in charge of that section of the store. He may be on a straight salary and/or commission. With limited (although probably above average) income, an unscrupulous chain store druggist might be tempted to pick up some extra income dispensing barbiturates and amphetamine drugs or ergot for the purpose of bringing on miscarriage. Some have been known to work in conjunction with abortionists, for a percentage of the fee. Of course such renegade pharmacists are not limited to the chain drug stores. Some of them can be found operating their own business and resorting to this kind of illicit practice only because of the fierce pressure and competition from the big cut-rate chains.
The author personally knew a pharmacist some years ago, who added considerable to his income by selling medicinal alcohol, greatly cut of course, and colored and flavored so that it resembled whiskey. Because there was local prohibition in his County, he did a thriving business until he got caught.
This same character made himself available to young girls in trouble. The contact would be made either by the girl herself or her boy friend. The druggist was on confidential terms with many of the young men of the town through selling them contraceptives. Since he saw the girls who accompanied these same young men, when they came to the counter for cokes, he also had his own private list of what local young ladies were putting out.
He had his own apartment above the drug store, with a rear private stairway leading to it. When a girl in trouble came to him or was sent to him, he would first ascertain how "fare gone" she was. Usually, it was only a month or two, sometimes only a few weeks. If her condition wasn't too advanced and if she was physically appealing to him, he would agree to give her a treatment for five or ten dollars.
The treatment was a simple one. The girl and her boy friend (who frequently paid the fee) would accompany the druggist upstairs to his apartment, after he closed his store for the night. He would then place a screen around the couch so that the boy friend could not witness what was going on. The girl would be asked to remove her panties and recline upon the couch. The druggist would put on a rubber glove. Using the excuse that he didn't have any vaseline on hand, he would caress the girl's vulva and her clitoris until there was plenty of natural lubrication. While doing this he managed a very professional and impersonal expression, although he admitted to me that he was always highly excited. When the lubrication was sufficient, he would then remove the rubber glove and insert his middle finger, begin working it in and out, meanwhile, telling the girl, throwing in some medical terms that this was a form of massage that often would bring on menstruation and the end of the girl's problem.
In her desperation, her ignorance, her faith in him as a man who was "part of the medical profession," the young lady nearly always permitted this treatment. The amazing thing is that sometimes it "worked," probably because in these instances the girl was not really pregnant at all and had missed her period for whichever one of a number of possible other reasons. If the treatment didn't "work," a month or so later, the druggist would recommend a country midwife who would perform an actual abortion.
This particular pharmacist happened to be a physically unattractive man, actually afraid to approach women nearer his own age in the normal manner and this was his sex life, the way he got his "kicks." Especially when he was able to bring one of the ladies to the point of orgasm by his manipulation. When this happened, he would himself experience a frenetic spasm of relase and be forced to excuse himself immediately, to go to the bathroom, where he kept a clean set of trousers and underwear. When he was not accorded this ultimate thrill, he would later masturbate, while fantasying all types of sexual perversion with the girl.
In this instance the man was not only a criminal but a pervert. Eventually he was caught, his license taken away and he was imprisoned.
The point is that without the "trappings" often associated with the medical profession, the white jacket, the professional manner, the degree in pharmacy, the informal title of "Doc," by which many druggists are known, it is un-likely that any intelligent young girl would submit to such indignities.
Not so long ago there were far fewer legal restrictions on the practice of pharmacy than there are today. At least, the restrictions were not so well enforced. When I was younger, if a person got a foreign particle of some sort in their eye, they could just go into the nearest drug store and for ten cents or a quarter, the pharmacist, using cotton rolled around the tip of a toothpick, would successfully remove it. He is no longer legally allowed to do even this, let alone advise and prescribe or diagnose in any other manner. All of this has now been relegated to the practice of medicine, only. Which is undoubtedly all to the good.
Not too many years ago, the author was caught in the middle of the night, with an unbearable toothache. The pain was excruciating, to the point where he was literally about to bang his head against the wall. At that time he had no personal physician in the town but he did personally know the neighborhood druggist. He called the man up, explained the situation. The druggist got up out of bed, met him at the store and gave him a pill, which turned out to be a very powerful sleeping pill. He didn't cure the toothache but it did knock the author out, after he took it, so that he knew nothing until the next morning when he was able to acquire the services of a dental surgeon.
Because of the stricter laws it is doubtful if any pharmacist today would be so accomodating.
Talk to almost any druggist and you will receive verification of the fact that is the theme of this and the next chapter, that perhaps only secondly to the medical and dental professions, the men in pharmacy are subject to temptation to violate their code of ethics, by sexually predatory females. Again, as with physicians, these men are only human. It is to their credit that cases such as the following are extremely rare.
CASE HISTORY
ELLEN Z.-Age 18
Ellen Z. was sixteen when she was married. She was a petite redhead, with a small, doll-like but perfectly proportioned body. Although very highly sexed, she had never engagd in actual intercourse until she was married. Her husband, only two years older, was a virile young man and once Ellen was introduced to the pleasure of married sex, she could hardly get enough of it. She and her husband coupled at least three times a day, in the morning, before he went to work, in the late afternoon when he returned and again when they retired for the night, for the first month or so of their marriage. Weekends they spent nearly the whole time in bed.
Soon, of course, her husband's health was becoming impaired and the second month they cut their intimate exertions down to twice a day and then once a day. Ellen was not too happy about this, at first, but she accepted it and later decided that it was actually better for her, at least, when not performed too frequently.
When Ellen was eighteen and her husband twenty, he was drafted. Several months later, he was sent overseas. Ellen was basically a loyal young woman and had no thought of cheating on her husband while he was gone, even though she had become used to sexual relations still on a four or five times a week basis and suddenly being deprived of it, caused her great mental and physical anguish.
Ellen told herself, though, that after awhile she would again become used to celibacy. However, as time went on, this did not happen. Instead, her nervous condition became worse. She had more and more difficulty sleeping at night, She was now working stenographer for a small law firm and daily came in contact with attractive men. It still never occurred to her to solve her problem with another man. She became adroit at avoiding passes and propositions.
When her husband had been away two months, Ellen was forced to get some kind of relief. She resorted to masturbation, a practice she had engaged in upon occasion in her early teens. It did now afford her some relief but after having become accustomed to complete sex, it still left a lot to be desired; she was never completely satisfied.
The third month Ellen met another young woman, Donna, whose husband was also overseas. They became quite friendly. They discussed their mutual problems and finally the subject of sex came up. Donna told her that she'd had the same problem but had found a unique solution of how to satisfy herself and still remain, technically, true to her husband. She asked Ellen if she knew what a dildo was
"No, I don't," she replied. "Is it some kind of medicine or something?"
Donna, a brunette, with dark, flashing, passionate looking eyes, laughed. "Oh, it's medicine, all right. Good medicine, but not the kind you're talking about."
"Well, what then, Donna?"
Donna paused, to think how to word her description. "Well, it's an artificial thing-you know, a penis. It's made out of hard, flesh colored rubber and looks exactly like the real thing and almost feels the same. Many women in foreign countries, especially Japan, use them while their husbands are away."
Ellen's mouth gaped. "They do? Why I-I never heard of such a thing."
"Well, now, you have, honey and don't knock it until you've tried it. It's a lot better than your finger-although you can use both."
"Where did you get it?" Ellen asked.
"My husband sent it to me from Japan but I understand if you know the druggist, you can get them in almost any drug store for five or ten bucks."
(This is patently untrue. Few, if any pharmacies in the U.S. deal in under the counter sale of these objects.)
"Gee!" Ellen said, big-eyed and beginning to feel a little excited just at the thought of such a thing. "Maybe I'll get me one."
"I think it sure would help, the state you're in from what you tell me. But I don't know, maybe you wouldn't like it. Listen, why don't you borrow mine and try it once to make sure, before you spend money for one of your own. I'll bring it to work tomorrow and give it to you at lunch time, okay?"
"Oh, that'd be swell, Donna!" Ellen said.
That night Ellen went through a torture of unfulfilled desire, thinking about the object Donna had described and wondering would it look real and feel real? How big would it be-bigger or smaller than her husband, Jack's? She could hardly wait to see.
She never did see the particular object that Donna had talked about. Donna didn't show up for their usual luncheon meeting the next day. Later, Ellen called Donna's place of work and found out why. Donna's husband had suddenly and unexpectedly been shipped back to the States and was stationed at a nearby city. He had called Donna the night before and she had gone to him immediately.
Ellen was happy for her friend, Donna, but terribly disappointed that she wouldn't be able to have Donna's object.
She then remembered what Donna had told her about being able to buy the thing in a drug store. For several weeks now, Ellen had been quite friendly with the pharmacist in her neighborhood drug store. His name was Sam and she thought of him as a "much older man", although he was only thirty eight. Sam was tall, slender and dignified looking, with his horn -rimmed glasses and gray-dappled temples. Ellen was quite attracted to him but only, she thought, as a sort of father figure, an uncle, sort of, who was friendly and helpful and fun to talk with. She purchased a lot of things at this large drug store, did business there at least several times a week. Sam did her several "favors'", when she would have a bad cold, recommending certain types of patent medicines, advising her on the best type of tooth brush to buy and so forth. He seemed quite interested when she talked about her husband and the letters he wrote her.
Once, when she bought a box of Kotex, Sam told her, half kidding, half solemn: "I'm happy to see you buying something like this. At least you're not getting yourself into trouble like so many pretty little girls of your age."
She laughed, pleased with his "fatherly" concern. "Oh, you don't have to worry about me. I can wait for my husband to come back."
He nodded. "Good for you, honey. A lot of girls don't know. They just figure "while the cat's away, the mice will play. I like you, Ellen. If I can ever help you in any way, don't be afraid to ask."
Sam was speaking the truth. He did like Ellen but not quite in the fatherly way she thought. From the first time he'd seen her, with her cap of shiny, coppery colored hair framing her pretty face, noticed her tiny but trim body, the small but pointed breasts arching against her sweater, her steeply rounded buttocks and finely curved legs, he'd had a yen for her. He didn't, though, really expect anything to come of it. Ellen, apparently wasn't on the make and Sam had made it a rule with all his attractive female customers that if there was going to be any hanky-panky, they would have to make the first real move. He wasn't about to get himself into big trouble by mistaking naive over-friendliness with willingness, as he knew had happened with one of his confreres who had made a pass at a seemingly willing woman, who then turned out to be nothing but a tease and reported the other pharmacist to her husband.
He was able to "help" Ellen sooner than he had expected.
The night she had hoped to be able to use Donna's dildo, was an especially nerve-wracking one to her. She twitched and turned and tossed, half of the night before finally resorting to self manipulation, which still left her yearning and unsatisfied but did quiet her down enough so that she could sleep.
The next day, at work, Ellen found her gaze constantly being drawn toward the crotch of the trousers worn by some of the men that came into the office, especially those who wore very tight pants that lined the bulge of their genitals. On several of these occasions, she felt a hot sexual flush suffuse her, so that she was dizzy with it. In one instance, she actually became quite moist as she stared at a tell-tale bulge and began to imagine what it would look like if she should reach out and remove it from cover.
She told herself then that she just had to do something. She made up her mind then and there, to inquire of Sam, her friendly druggist, about the thing Donna had mentioned. Sam was an older man; Sam would understand, she told herself. She wouldn't have to be embarrassed with him.
Still, she couldn't bring-herself to ask in person. She telephoned him and after much hemming and hawing, beating around the bush, she finally blurted out what she was after.
"A-a what?" Sam replied, astounded. "I'm not sure I heard you right. You did say a dildo?"
"Uh-huh."
"Ellen, are you sure you know what that is? Somebody didn't pull a gag on you and tell you to call up here about that, thinking it's something else?"
"Oh, no. I know what it is, all right. My girl friend told me. And I-I have to have it. I can't stand being away from my husband so long, any more. I'm sure you understand, being-well almost like a doctor and all."
Sam gulped and thought fast. "Why, of course, my dear. I understand perfectly and I wish I could help you but I'm sure you must know the sale of such things is illegal. We don't carry anything like that."
"Oh!" Ellen's chagrin was evident in her tone of voice. "Well, I-I didn't know. I just thought I'd try and see. I'm sorry, I bothered you, then, Sam and please, please keep this call confidential."
"Why, of course. A druggist never discusses the personal problems of his customers with other people ... But, wait a minute, now, don't hang-up. I still may be able to help you; I don't know for sure. I'll call you back, later. It'll probably be late. Will you still be up?"
"Oh, yes. I have a terrible time trying to get to sleep." She gave a nervous giggle. "That's part of the problem."
"Okay, then," he said. "I'll talk to you later."
During that telephone conversation, Sam had remembered a man he hadn't seen in quite some time, a bachelor who had spent a considerable period in Japan and once he had shown Sam a collection of various types of dildoes, he had brought back with him.
Sam called the man, then and asked if he could come up and see him after he closed for the night. It was okay. About twelve fifteen, Sam was in the other man's apartment and giving a hasty explanation, not saying that the girl involved was a customer, he asked to borrow one of the objects in the man's collection. He finally selected the smallest object, having in mind that if things worked out the way he hoped they would, he didn't want to suffer by comparison. His selection was about average size, approximately six inches long.
Half an hour later, he was ringing Ellen's doorbell. She cracked open the door, looking flushed and a little guilty. She had just started to try to relieve her nightly overwrought sexual condition by masturbating.
When she saw it was Sam, she opened the door wider. "Oh, it's just you, Sam," she said.
He grinned. "Yeah, just me, good old Sam. I've brought you something, honey." He held up a small paper sack. "It took me a lot of trouble but I found what you wanted."
Her eyes went wide and she blushed more deeply. "You did?"
Sam tried not to stare at the way Ellen's point ed breasts pushed out again the thin, clinging cloth of her nightie, which was all she was wearing, of the way it limned the gentle mound of her tummy, showed the dark shadow of the triangular growth that protected her mount. But she instantly became aware of the direction of his gaze.
"Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry, Sam." She crossed an arm over her breasts and the other hand covered her below. "I'm not dressed for company. "Excuse me, while I go get a robe."
Regretfully, Sam said: "Oh, that's all right. Don't worry about it." He stepped inside and shut the door and then feasted his eyes on Ellen's twitching, bobbling, very round behind, revealing through the silk of the nightie, as she fled toward the bedroom in the back.
When she returned a moment later, tying the belt of a terrycloth robe about her trim waist, Sam said: "There's only one thing. I can't sell this to you, Ellen; I wouldn't anyhow because it would be a violation of the law. I've just borrowed it."
"Oh, I see."
"Well, I hope you do, won't be embarrassed or anything. Because I have to return it tonight." "I don't understand."
He took a deep breath and plunged into the proposition he had prepared, hardly daring to hope that it would really work but if it didn't he really had nothing to lose.
"Well, you see, since I have to return it tonight, you'll have to go into the other room and use it, while I wait out here. When you're finished, you can bring it back out and I'll return it to its owner."
Her face turned crimson and he was sure she was going to tell him nothing doing, he was crazy. In desperation, then, he reached into the paper sack and withdrew the object. He held it out for her to look at it. "There!" he said. "Pretty real looking, isn't it?"
She saw that indeed it was. It had been fashioned as realistically as possible of a latex that approximated the color of human flesh, even to the inclusion of the arterial vein and others and cleverly shaped testes below the base.
Ellen gasped. "Oh, my, yes, it is!" She felt herself becoming terribly excited, just looking at it. She wanted to reach and snatch it out of his hand, but managed to restrain herself.
"And look here," he said, pointing to a small plug at the back of the base of the object, then removing it with his fingernails. "To make it feel warm and nice, you can fill it up with hot water, here; the whole thing's hollow. Lemme show you."
He started toward the kitchen, Ellen embarrassed but also already quite aroused, trotted on her bare feet, after him. At the kitchen sink, Sam ran hot water and then directed it into the tiny opening where the plug had been removed. It soon filled up and he reinserted the plug.
"Some other time, if you want," he said, "you can use hot milk or cream, instead of water, to make it more realistic ... when you finally do this, you know, when you're ready." He then squeezed the artificial testes and a stream of water shot out of a tiny hole in the artificial glands.
Ellen registered surprise and delight. The next instant, Sam handed the object toward her. "Here, see how nice and warm it is already."
She reached out and took it, gingerly, at first but then as she looked at it, felt the warmth emannating from it, she boldly held it in her fist, her breathing beginning to quicken. It felt hot and smooth just as her husband, Jack's, had felt sometimes when she would play with him. Her excitement became almost unbearable.
"Okay," Sam said, turning away, toward the door to the living room. "You go on back and take care of yourself, honey. I'll just sit out here and read a magazine."
She hesitated. "Gee, I-I don't know. Will it be all right?"
"Of course," she said. "Believe me, I understand. You're only human, you're a healthy, normal girl. What's wrong with it? It won't bother me at all. I'll just relax with a magazine. I love to read, anyhow. You take as long as you want. Shut the door so you'll have privacy and I'll see you later."
She hesitated another moment, constantly aware of the object she held in her hand, the heat of it. She looked down at it, noticing now that it was even slightly bigger than Jack's, wondering if that would make it feel even better. Then she squeezed it, feeling its firm, rubbery response and it was too much. Her breasts aching, sensation flooding her loins, she fled toward the bedroom. She shut the door and setting the object on the bed, where she couldn't take her eyes off of it, she shrugged out of the robe and then whipped the nightie over her head.
She put out the light, fumbled on the covers for the object, seized it and now in a quivering fever of need, slid between the sheets. She guided the thing to her, first pressing it against her tummy and then rubbing it along the insides of her thighs, responding to its hot rigidity, hardly able to suppress a moan of delight. And then it was there. She just rubbed, at first, reveling in the flow of ecstasy that was already beginning to swamp her. Then she gradually, slowly, teasingly made the insertion and had to bite down on the covers to prevent an outcry.
In the living room, Sam, too, was in a fever of need. He wasn't bothering to read. He paced up and down, nervously, smoking, thinking about what was going on in the bedroom, remembering the sharp-pointed punch of Ellen's breasts against her nightie, the round clenching and unclenching of her tautly protruding buttocks as she walked away from him. He paced and waited, knowing that he couldn't restrain himself much longer, wondering if he did what he was planning to do, if he would ruin everything, perhaps even scare her badly, cause her to scream-yet knowing he had to go through with it, now.
In a few minutes, he tiptoed along the hallway, stopped outside the closed bedroom door. He put his ear to it. He could hear the heavy sound of her breathing, an occasional low moan, the slight squeaking of the bedsprings. He became beside himself. He reached down to seize and try to momentarily ease the ache of his sudden, almost insane lust. He continued to listen through the door.
In about five minutes he heard the sound of breathing becoming more stertorous, the moanings and groanings grew louder and then became muffled slightly. The complaint of the bedsprings became more audible. A few moments later a series of short muffled cries sounded.
Sam could stand it no more. He reached for the doorknob, slowly turned it and quietly opened the door, hoping that the intensity of Ellen's actions would keep her unaware, if only briefly. His other hand dipped down and quickly loosened his clothing, reaching inside and fought free with his fully aroused member. He opened the door wide and a wedge of dull light entered the room, slightly illuminating the girl on the bed and himself as he stood just inside the doorway.
She had the sheet pulled up over her to the neck but he could see the outline of her body beneath it, the sharp imprint of her pricked up nipples, the outline of her wildly spread thighs, the bulking of her wrist and the back of her hand, high up between them. Her head turned toward him and her pretty face was slackly contorted from the intense sensation of approaching orgasm. Her eyes were glazed and heavy-lidded, as they stared at what h held in one hand. She drew in a sharp, shocked breath.
Quickly, he said in what he hoped was a soothing, reassuring voice: "Don't be frightened, Ellen, please. I won't hurt you, even touch you, I swear. It's just that I-well, I got to thinking about you in here and became so excited as you can see-that I had to have some relief, too. Please don't stop, Ellen. It would be bad for you, now; bad for your nervous system. Just go right on doing it. I can't even see, so don't be embarrassed. I'll do it with you; we'll do it together. I won't even come close. Come on, Ellen, don't be afraid. Go ahead, baby, do it more."
She watched his own hand begin to move, noted, fascinated, the great stretch and bulk of his malehood, considerably larger than the object lodged within her. She had never seen a man do that, before. She found it excited her even more. Beneath the sheet her own hand began to move again, slowly at first and then faster and faster. At the same time her gaze riveted on Sam's actions and the object of them.
Soon he whispered: "Oh, this is good, isn't it, Ellen?"
She barely nodded, speechless with the turbulence of feeling sweeping all through her.
"But it isn't fair," he told her, "you watching me and my not being able to see you. Kick the sheet off, Ellen. Please, honey. It'll make it better for me."
Without even thinking, carried completely away by the animal sensations engulfing her, she reacted, did as she was told. Moving one foot, raising it, she kicked off the sheet. He feasted his eyes on her writhing, quivering nudity, the glistening white, pear-shaped breasts, tilting upward, topped by the longest, palest pink tips he had even seen. Her spread thighs looked as though they had been carved from marble by a master artist.
He watched the furious movement of her hand, thrusting and withdrawing.
In a few more moments it was too much for him. The rapid action of his own hand became almost a blur. His hips moved almost in rhythm to hers as she arched up and down on the bed. Then he cried out as the end was reached in spasming, spurting release.
Seconds later, Ellen made similar outcries and thrashed around on the bed like a person in seizure as she experienced one of the most blinding climaxes she'd ever known. When it was over, she lay there exhausted.
Then Sam retired to the bathroom, where he called out to her: "Ellen, wash it off and put it back in the paper sack out in the kitchen and then get back into bed and have a good night's sleep. I'll talk to you some other time."
Feeling ashamed and guilty, she was grateful that she didn't have to face him right now and quickly followed his instructions. She was back in her own bed and under the covers, with her door once again closed, when she heard him emerge from the bathroom. She listened to him walk through the apartment and then slam the door shut as he exited.
Almost instantly she fell into exhausted slumber.
The next day, at work, Ellen thought a lot about what had happened the night before. She was not nearly as shocked as she might have been. She told herself that Sam's reaction was probably no different than any man's had been and at least he had been thoughtful of her, hadn't tried to takc out his lust on her; she was really lucky because some other man not as good a friend, might not have been able to use such restraint. At the same time, it gave her a thrill to remember that he had enjoyed it, too, they had shared mutual pleasure. But of course, she told herself, she couldn't allow it to happen again. If she ever used that thing again, which she somewhat doubted, under the conditions, she would insist that Sam leave the apartment, come back later; another time he might not be able to control himself. At the same time she could not help remembering the astonishing vigor of him and briefly thought about the pleasure that might bring her-but then instantly banished the idea from her mind. She should be ashamed of herself for even thinking such a thing, she admonished herself.
That night, she wished that she again had the source of her pleasure from the night before. She toyed with the thought of calling Sam but finally decided against it. She again had trouble getting to sleep.
Two nights later, she could no longer control herself. She called Sam. He quickly agreed to come up when he closed the store and bring what she needed. He again appeared, carrying the paper sack. For a few moments, facing him again, Ellen was embarrassed but then she got over it., found herself chatting with him, quite casually. Finally, she said: "Well, it's kind of late, Sam and I don't want to keep you. Listen, would it be possible for me to keep-you know-tonight? Or if not I'm sure you understand, for both our sakes if you'd leave for awhile and then come back for it."
She was relieved when he grinned and quickly said: "Sure, Ellen." But then he added. "The only thing is, I didn't bring the same thing tonight. Instead I brought something special. It's-well-it's similar and much better, much more realistic, I think you'll enjoy it a hundred percent better."
"Oh, my goodness," she said, breathlessly. "What in the world is it? Show me."
He shook his head. "I can't do that. I want it to be a surprise. Not only that but I'll have to demonstrate how to operate it; it's a little complicated."
"Oh?"
"As soon as I show you just how it works, so you won't have any problems, I'll leave and you can enjoy it yourself, okay?"
"But what is it, a machine or something mechanical or something?"
"Well, not exactly. Come on back into the bedroom and I'll show you." He took her by the arm, gently but firmly.
"Now, consumed by curiosity as well as her physical need, Ellen went along with him. She was wearing nothing but the robe, this evening. In the bedroom, Sam said, casually, "just get undressed and lie down on the bed and I'll show you how it works. It will only take a few minutes."
She hesitated, averting her gaze. "Gee,-I I don't know, Sam, if I-"
"Oh, come on, Ellen," he interrupted. "Don't act like a child. There's nothing wrong. And don't forget I saw you the other night, so what's the difference? Believe me, I have myself under control, tonight. You don't have to be afraid. You know I won't hurt you, don't you, take advantage of you? I didn't the other night."
He reached out and loosened the belt of her robe. "Come on, now, Ellen, that's a good girl!"
She sighed and opened the robe wide, slid out of it. Sam forced himself to turn away as she did so; he didn't want to betray the way her sudden nudity would effect him. At the same time, he picked up a pillow and slid the case off of it. He handed it to Ellen as she started to lie down on the bed.
"Here," he said. "Put this across your eyes, so you can't see."
"Why?"
"I told you, I want this to be a surprise. Also it will be less embarrassing to you."
She sighed again. "Okay, if I have to."
She placed the pillow case across her eyes as she sprawled on her back, on the bed. Then Sam reached out and took hold of one knee. "Swing your legs around, so they hang over the side of the bed," he said. "It will make it easier all around. Oh, you're going to love this, Ellen, even better than the other night ... Now, just relax and don't peek, until I tell you to."
She murmured agreement. She was now lying across the bed, on her back, her buttocks at the edge of it, her legs hanging completely over the edge.
Sam reached out and opened her thighs, hardly able to control a gasp of delight as he saw her womanhood fully exposed to him. He spread her legs wider and then placed the paper sack on the floor, rattling the paper as though he was opening it. Then, he touched her, his finger gently caressing. She gasped and stiffened.
"Easy," he told her. "Relax. I just have to get you ready a little, first. It'll only take a few seconds."
It wasn't much longer before the sensations that flowed through her brought about the response he was seeking. He saw the tiny, usually hidden nubbin, swell and pop out, half exposed and he knew she was ready. He kneeled and thrust his head down and forward, his tongue going unerringly to the target. At first contact, Ellen cried out: "Oh! ... OH!"
She arched, reacting to the unexpected and excruciatingly intense feeling that flashed throught her like a delicious electric shock. She had never experienced such a sensation in her life. She could hardly stand it. But now one of his hands rested on her tummy, holding her down. His tongue and lips went wild against her, seeking out every sensitive area and constantly returning to the most sensitive one.
"Oh, my God!" she called out. "Oh, yes, yes! Don't stop, don't!" Her thighs closed together, involuntarily, trying to capture what was causing this unbelievable ecstasy.
Then she raised her head, throwing off the blindfold and looked down. She saw the top of Sam's head, moving and turning and twisting in line with his oral activity and knew of course what was happening. She knew then what Sam's "surprise" was and that he had tricked her but she no longer cared about that or anything but the waves of sensation in which she was pleasantly drowning.
Her head fell back on the bed, her mouth wet and open, her eyes walling back, her face contorted as she was more rapidly than ever before brought to completion. She felt Sam's hands reach up and squeeze her upthrust breasts, his fingers teasing the nipples, then pinching and squeezing their pale pink, sensitive lengths.
A moment later, she screamed in unrestrained savage bliss....
After her second spasm, Sam tired of what he was doing. She begged him not to stop but then he told her there would be more of that later but meanwhile there were other things just as good. By now, she was his love slave. She was still in the throes of slowly waining enjoyment. She let him do what he wanted.
He lifted her legs back up onto the bed, full length and took the dildo out of the paper sack. He quickly inserted it and her hand moved to it, began manipulating it, while Sam huddiedly undressed. Then, naked, he stood beside her, guided her hand to his quivering readiness and she seized it eagerly. He reached down and leisurely toyed with her breasts and their perked up, pleading peaks. Then he bent and lowered his lips to the thrusting hillocks and sampled them with his mouth and tongue as Ellen twisted and writhed and thumped her bottom up and down on the bed in a new rising crest of excitement.
A few moments later, at just the right time, he guided her head toward him. At first she balked but it was only token resistance and for the first time Ellen found herself engaged in fellatio. It seemed to heighten her enjoyment and she became fully cooperative. Then, as he began to approach completion, he teased away from her. He crawled between her legs, deftly removed the imitation and just as deftly replaced it with the real thing.
Ellen caterwauled her appreciation and wrapped her legs about him. A timeless eternity later, they erupted together.
All the barriers were broken down now and Ellen could no longer do without Sam, even though she cried and berated them both, after that first wild association. She managed to go two days before calling him. For the next month, he was an almost nightly visitor.
Then Ellen received a telegram from the government that her husband had been killed in a jeep accident. She went into acute shock and had to be rushed to a hospital. When she came out of the shock state, she was completely psychotic, and had to be placed in a state institution. She was convinced that her infedelity had been the cause of her husband's death, indirectly, that it had happened so that she would be punished. . It was several years before she was released and she had to continue out-patient treatment for another couple of years before she was able to return to a normal life and eventually marry again.
In her hospital stay, Ellen babbled out most of the details of her affair with Sam, cursing him and herself. An investigation was made but there was no major criminal charge for which they had enough evidence against him. He paid a penalty, anyhow. Word spread through the neighborhood and all the women boycotted his drug store. Within a month he filed for bankruptcy. He was unable to find a job in his profession. After he lost his house and his wife and family, too, he disappeared, apparently left the city....
Part of the psychiatric report on Ellen called attention to the fact that although she was cleverly duped by Sam, who took advantage of her long thwarted physical desires, it could never have happened but for two reasons. One was that although Ellen, basically, was a very normal girl, conversely she was very highly sexed and in addition, she was also of low I.Q. and unusually naive. The second reason, she explained, very simply, herself, to the therapist:
"Well, I guess I just trusted him because well-he was almost like a doctor and women do go to doctors with intimate matters like that, don't they?"
That case was highly unusual, in that the pharmacist was the aggressor, albeit that he was tempted and led on by the young woman's complete naivette and obviously high sexuality quotient.
It is much more common for the women customers to initiate relations. Frequently she is a married woman bored or unsatisfied with her husband. The druggist is an attractive man, educated, carries himself with a medical profession like air-and the woman can be almost positive that in his profession, he is extremely discreet.
The affair will usually start with an increasingly more obvious flirtation, carried on at the pharmacy. Eventually, the woman will call and ask if he, personally, can deliver a prescription or whatever she is ordering at the time because there is something she would like to discuss with him and he's usually so busy at the store ... etc. When he arrives with the delivery, the woman is usually in a revealing negligee or sexy pajamas and that's it.
Most pharmacists will realize the potential danger in becoming involved with a customer and somehow diplomatically manage to dodge the invitation. Some don't. It would be difficult to blame them.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLACKMAILING ABORTIONISTS
It is a fact, firmly established in print by textbooks such as "New Horizons In Criminology" by Barnes and Teeters (Prentice Hall) that the practice of abortion is one of the most rampant crimes in the United States. The statistics are appalling. It has been estimated that as many as two and a half to three million of these illegal operations are performed annually, possibly more. A small percentage are performed by the women, themselves, using a frightening array of various type sharp or pointed objects.
Another small percentage are performed by legitimate, practicing physicians under fairly favorable conditions, either as a favor to some weathy client or because the doctor in question is under extreme economic pressure of some kind.
The largest percentage by far are performed by shady characters such as former physicians who have lost their licenses to practice legally because of some form of malpractice, many of them narcotic addicts; midwives, practical nurses and sometimes by men with little or no medical background except the fact that they once worked in a hospital as an orderly or spent some small period in a medical school as a student before dropping out.
It is because of the latter group that tens of thousands of deaths result from abortions each year. Permanent health damage both physical and psychological runs to even higher figures.
Constant pressure from influential sources, over the years, to legalize this practice, under the proper conditions, and thus put the charlatans and shady characters out of business, has met with no success.
Another harmful aspect of abortion has been little publicized-the fact that the girl or woman involved is sometimes at the complete mercy of a male abortionist, for whatever depraved use he wants to make of her. He can bring pressure upon her, financially. Let's say the girl only has $250. The abortionist, attracted by her, says that his fee is $300, but he'll make an exception in her case for a small favor. The "small favor" sometimes involves unspeakable, abnormal sex practices.
Another method used by some abortionists is to take advantage of the patient while she is under anaesthesia. Usually there is no nurse in attendance as a witness and the abortionist will seldom allow a husband, boy friend or girl friend of the patient to witness his illega operation.
CASE HISTORY
MARCIE H.-Age 16
Marcie H. was a very pretty girl, ripely endowed girl of sixteen, the only daughter of a very wealthy manufacturer and his wife. She developed a fierce crush on the young colored family chauffeur and eventually had sex with him. The following month, she missed her period. She had always before been as regular as clockwork. She became panic stricken. She just couldn't be pregnant; it would be the end of the world for her and her parents-especially if they learned who the father was.
She took her problem to the man involved who immediately became as frightened as she was, left his job and vanished. She never saw him again. This made her that much more panicky. She didn't know who to turn to. She talked the situation over with some of her girl friends; they had no solution to offer, except that one of them managed to get her some ergot which only made her deathly ill and failed to produce the desired effect. For the next two or three weeks, Marcie was a nervous wreck. Then she became friendly with a flashy looking oldr girl, Florrie, who worked as a waitress in a coffee shop Marcie patronized near her private school.
Flossie made no secret of the fact that she liked "a good time" and never hesitated to make a date with any attractive male customer who took her fancy. It occurred to Marcie that the waitress might know somebody who could help her out of her trouble. After much trepidation, Marcie broached the subject to her, stammeringly, using the age-old deception that she was getting the information "for a friend."
The waitress gave her no direct answer right away. She said she would have to think about it. She knew that Marcie went to a private school, could tell by the way she dressed, that her family had money. A day or so later, she told Marcie that she had gotten that information for her but that it had cost her twenty dollars, which Marcie of course, would have to refund to her. The girl didn't have the money with her but would bring it the next day. After the money exchanged hands, Marcie was given the name and address of a man who would "take care of her." She was told that it would cost her $300, payable in advance.
The man lived in a ramshackle old house in a seedy neighborhood of this small manufacturing city. He told Marcie that he was a retired physisian who did this sort of thing upon rare occasion only because he enjoyed helping out nice young people who had accidentally gotten into trouble .Of course, it was only fair that he be paid for his time and efforts.
(The truth was that he had been kicked out of the medical profession, five years before because of a penchant for molesting very young female patients. Since then he had made his living performing from three to six abortions a month.)
Marcie was repelled by him right away. He was a flabby looking, bald headed man of about fifty, sloppily dressed. He had small, pig-like eyes and a day's growth of beard stubble on his pudgy face. He kept a cigar in the comer of his mouth, allowing the ashes to drop off and fall down his already not too clean shirt front, as he talked with her. She didn't like the way his little eyes constantly stared at the bulge of her unusually large breasts.
At first he just asked her routine questions about her general health, her menstral cycle, that sort of thing. Then he gave her an oily smile and said: "You know, you're a very pretty young lady, Marcie."
"Thank you," she replied coolly. "When do we get this over with?"
He coughed against his hand. "Well, first I have to make an examination, of course. I think we'd better take care of that little matter, right now, if it's all right with you."
"What-what kind of examination?"
He templed his fingers on the desk in front of him. "Well, a fairly complete physical, first and then of course, a vaginal examination to make sure there are no special problems."
"I see. Do I have to undress?"
"Of course." He chuckled. "How else could I examine you?"
"You mean right here?" she said, aghast. They were talking in a small office-den, with Venetian blinds drawn over the two windows. Marcie was sitting on a leather couch, the only piece of furniture in the room, other than the desk and chair on which the man sat and a book case full of dust covered medical tomes.
He shrugged. "It's as good a place as any. Why not? You go ahead and take your clothes off and I'll be right back." He left the room and returned a few moments later, carrying a battered medical bag. He set it on the desk and turned to Marcie who was standing there, blushing and looking awkwardly uncomfortable in bra and panties.
The man was delighted with this vision of her, partially disrobed, even though he wasn't about to settle for such part way measures. His beady little eyes roamed over her, noticing that the bra wasn't a padded one, indicating that the huge bulges it encased was all solid young woman flesh. Her legs were long and sleek, fully rounded at the thighs.
"Will this be okay, doctor?" Marcie asked, timidly.
He clucked his tongue impatiently. "Of course not, my dear girl. I can't be bothered lifting and pulling at clothes. Haven't you ever had a physical before?"
"Yes but only when I was very young."
"Well, you're still very young as far as I'm concerned. I'm old enough to be your father and a physician, besides. Now, if you're going to be so damned prissy and not willing to fully cooperate with me, I can't hel pyou at all. You can just forget the whole thing."
She gnawed her lower lip, thinking about this. If this man wouldn't help her, who would? She had no other contact for this type of thing. Possibly this man was the only one in the city who would be willing to do this for her. She sighed deeply and reached back to unhook her bra.
Meanwhile, the abortionist opened and dug into his black bag, produced a stethascope and a thermometer, a pair of rubber gloves and a jar of vaseline. When he turned back to Marcie, she had removed her bra and was bending over to slip her panties off of her ankles. The man's eyes almost bulged out of his head at the erotic picture she presented to him.
As she bent over, her enormous breasts hung and swung tantalizingly, like ripe fruit hanging from a vine. Her backside jutted provocatively, emphasizing the long, fleshy, curving expanse of the back of her thighs. The man trembled with anticipation, as now she straightened and turned toward him. She turned her gaze away, her face crimson.
"All right," she murmured. "I-I'm ready."
Standing erect, she saw now that her breasts were as large as grapefruit. The magenta nipples were proportinoately large. At that moment she seemed to the abortionist the most exquisite female he had ever seen.
His hands were unsteady as he adjusted the stethascope and listened to her heart beat, so absorbed with studying her lovely breasts now at close range, that he didn't even bother to analyze the beat. Then he said: "You have unusually large breasts. Is that natural or is it possible that it's caused by your condition-especially if you are further gone than you told me. Are you sure you only missed one period, my dear?"
She nodded. "Positive. My next one is not due until next week."
"Mmm-hmm," he said, removing the stethascope from her chest and fighting back his urge to reach out and capture those proud round protrusions with his hands. "Your heart's in good condition. No difficulty there."
He picked up the thermometer, dipped it in a bottle of alcohol, dried it with a tuft of cotton and shook it down. "Now, we'll take your temperature ... If you'll just go over there on the conuch and lie down on your tummy."
She gaped at him. "To take my temperature? Why is that necessary?"
He smiled patiently, held up the thermometer. "Simply because this is a rectal thermometer. You know what that is, don't you?"
She nodded.
"So, in this type of case, it's necessary for me to take an anal reading," he lied. "If there is no increase in temperature above normal, it might indicate that you're not really pregnant at all."
This was slightly encouraging news. "Really? How would that be possible?"
He shrugged. "There have been cases of false pregnancy and missing a period can be caused by other things. We shall see. Now get over there on the couch."
She did as she was told and he stood beside her, looking down at the long, clean, soft-fleshed lines of her back, dipping in at the small of her spine and then climbing steeply to form the highly rounded moons of her buttocks. The backs of her thighs were round and long and silken soft looking, decorated with a barely perceptible fine blonde down of tiny hairs.
The man's heart pounded and excitement built in him and he became fully aroused, as he perched on the side of the couch. He rested one hand on one of the high rounds of flesh presented to him, marveling at its warm marble smoothness.
"Now, don't be nervous," he told her. "This isn't painful at all."
Then he gently spread her buttocks and slowly inserted the thermometer in her rectum. She made a slight gasp and instantly tightened her muscles back there. Squeezing the round globes of flesh together and holding them that way, he said, his voice quivering with excitement: "There, that isn't so bad, is it? Have you ever had-uh-anything inserted there, before?"
She shook her head. "Uh-uh."
"Never had an enema?"
"Well, there's nothing too unpleasant about it. Some women even Ike the sensation."
Her back muscles rippled but she made no reply. He felt that he could stay like this forever, holding her rounded flesh in his hands, looking at the tiny glass tube protruding from the long, deep divide. But after a few more moments, he slowly withdrew the thermometer, thrilling to the sight of her muscles contracting as he did so. He gave thermometer a quick glance, saw that the anal temperature was normal and quickly shook it down.
"Hmm," he lied. "I'm afraid it's bad news. There's one degree of temperature which is at least one indication that you are pregnant."
"Oh!" she said, sorrowfully.
He reached out and picked up a rubber glove, forced it on his right hand and then picked up the vaseline jar. "We'll make one more preliminary examination, while you're in this position," he told her.
He smeared a dab of vaseline on his rubber-gloved forefinger and then slowly eased it into her anal opening. Again she gasped and the muscles of her buttocks contracted. "There, now, easy," he told her, his speech thickening with the pleasure he was getting. "This won't take long. Just want to make sure there are no complications back here, no breaks in the internal membrane."
When his finger was fully inserted, he gently worked it in and out, noting her response, that her breathing was becoming louder. Suddenly, she blurted: "Do you have to do that? I-I can't stand it. How much longer will it take?"
Not wanting to frighten her too much, he then withdrew and patted her buttocks with his bare hand. "It's all over. And there are no problems back there-Now, if you'll turn over onto your back, we'll just make a brief vaginal exploration and that will be all."
She rolled over and closed her eyes, threw one arm across them. He watched her heavy breasts moving up and down, the large nipples now slightly distended, before she crossed her other arm over them. Then he opened her thighs and quickly taking off the rubber glove, explored her vulva until he found the small opening and slid his finger inside. She drew in a sharp breath.
"My," he said. "You're small and tight down here. You must not have had intercourse very often."
"Must you talk about it?" she demanded, angrily.
"Not if it bothers you, young lady." His finger moved inside of her and he felt the moisture increasing and looked down to see the tiny tip of her clitoris become visible. He then reached such a point of excitement that he was hardly able to control himself and might have erupted right there if he hadn't quickly withdrawn his finger and stood up, turning away from her.
"There," he said. "It's all over, that is, the examination, I mean. Everything seems normal. You're a fine healthy young lady and the rest should be fairly routine."
"When-when will that happen?" She removed her arm from over her eyes, sat up.
"When will you have the three hundred?"
"Tomorrow. I can draw it out of my savings account."
"Good. Then, we'll make it tomorrow."
"What time?"
"Let's say one thirty in the afternoon."
"Here?"
"Oh, no, Marcie. That wouldn't do at all. I have to be very careful, you know. He then named a street comer where he would pick her up in his car. He would then take her to a motel where he would perform the illegal operation. She then dressed and left. The abortionist could hardly wait for the next day....
The motel was a shoddy, out of the way one that the abortionisjt had used before. He paid off the manager. A rubber sheet was spread over the bed and Marcie, frightened and shivering, sprawled upon it on her back, naked. The abortionist stood by the dresser on which he had spread out some surgical instruments and medications. He hummed happily to himself. He had ' the $300 cash in his pocket and he was now about to enjoy an extra bonus for his troubles.
He took a surgical mouth mask from his medical bag and a small can of chloroform. He went over to Marcie and fastened the mask around her face after first explaining that was the only way he had under the conditions, to apply anaesthetic. Then he began to administer drops of chloroform onto the mask. As Marcie inhaled the fumes, she struggled to arise. He took her by the hair, held her head down, saying: "Don't fight it. Just a few seconds and you'll be out."
And then he felt her relax, grow limp. He watched her deep breathing. He said: "Marcie, can you hear me?"
There was no answer. He smiled to himself and reached to her and cupped her large breasts in both hands; they filled them to overflowing. He squeezed and kneaded the unbelievably firm flesh. He became instantly and violently aroused. When he tired of feeling her breasts, he bent and began kissing them and tugging at the nipples with his lips at the same time that his hands roughly opened her thighs, stroked and gripped the plump, smooth flesh. That she was unable to respond bothered him not at all; if anything, it added to his perverted pleasure. He surged and heaved at the same time that he continued to caress her breasts with his hands, until he was nearly ready for completion. Then he suddenly withdrew.
At that instant, Marcie began to come out from under the chloroform. She let out a low groan. The man quickly got the can of anaesthetic and expertly applied more, putting her back under. When she was still again, he rolled her over onto her stomach. He took time to fondle and squeeze the upthrust moons of her buttocks and then again placed himself between her thighs. This time he made an unnatural entry, making guttural animal sounds of delight as he did so.
This was almost too much for him and almost in a matter of seconds he pounded to a shuddering climax....
A few minutes later he again approached Marcie's nude body, this time, with as much distaste as his previous enthusiasm. He hated this part of his work; it was so messy.
When they finally left the place, Marcie was pale and shaken. She was able to walk only with some difficulty and she seemed to hurt and ache all over. She was inclined toward nausea and had previously vomitted, from the effects of the chloroform. But she no longer had the problem that she had come to the abortionist about.
In one way, poor Marcie was lucky. She never knew of the indignities that had been committed upon her unconscious body. She later attributed the soreness of her rectum to the illegal operation, in some way.
Many other young girls and even older women are not so lucky at the hands of perverted and illegal practitioners of this medical crime. Because of the increasingly higher prices put upon this act, they cannot afford it and are forced by the abortionist to negotiate with their bodies. They are forced to submit, while fully aware, Marcie suffered, in order to get the job done for to sexual indignities even greater than what the price they can afford. Often, in these cases, the long range psychological reaction upon the victim is worse than any physical one.
This is just another extremely important reason why the practice of illegal abortion must be wiped out by one means or another.
CHAPTER EIGHT
PRIVATE ROOMS-PRIVATE TREATMENT
CASE HISTORY "The Old Goat" & Nurse Eileen
In large cities all over the U.S., private hospitals often outnumber public ones. Ninety Nine Percent of them are run in a well disciplined and efficient manner, with a minimum of "extra curricula" activities behind closed doors. As with everything else, there is always the exception.
Because the small, private hospital is not fully or partly subsidized by state or county or city funds, it must of necessity keep its overhead as low as possible. This sometimes means that it is understaffed, not in a manner that would cause neglect or danger for patients but only in a supervisory degree. Because of this there is some times much more freedom of relationships between patients, between doctors and patients, doctors and nurses and nurses and patients. Especially during the night hours.
Frequently, the patients in private hospitals are wealthy men or women. They are especially catered to, allowed many liberties. Visiting hours and rules, for instance, are not so strictly adhered to. Liquor can often be easily smuggled in to a patient. A lot of things go on for which it is easier for the staff to look the other way.
It is true that these irregularities also sometimes happen in huge city, county or state sponsored hospitals, too but much more rarely.
In private hospitals, as almost everywhere else, money talks loud and clear. In the M-Community Hospital, located in a large southwestern city, ask the nurses about a fairly regular patient known as "The Old Goat." This gentleman is a wealthy rancher, in his early fifties. He is married to a very attractive woman, who is a social and business asset to him, with whom he gets along fine in every possible respect-except that she is frigid. The man is extremely lusty but sometimes for months on end he is able to sublimate his strong sex drive in eighteen hour work days, necessary to personally supervise his small financial empire. Between times he expends a lot of energy in sports. He is an excellent tennis, badminton and handball player.
But there finally comes the time when none of this any longer works and he has to have women-not one woman but several, at least.
Ever since he was a boy and had a French governess, who was referred to as his "nurse" (she actually never had any medical training) and who always dressed in the white uniform of a nurse, although she did not, of course, wear the official cap, this man had a penchant for nurses.
He once explained to a friend that his childhood "nurse," Mimi, was quite a sexpot. When he was eleven years old, she caught him masturbating. Instead of upbraiding him or reporting his act to his parents, Mimi was fascinated and insisted that she take over and do it for him. He found the action of her hand even more pleasurable. Especially when she added innovations such as having him sit on her lap, with the bodice of her uniform gaped open so that he could fondle her small, hard-nippled breasts and then after a while caress them with his mouth and tongue, under her direction, while she furiously manipulated him.
Soon, she was performing fellatio for him. At twelve, he experienced his first orgasm while she was doing this. Her next step was to introduce him to the various positions of intercourse.
He was thirteen when his parents decided that he no longer needed a "nurse" and should be sent away to Military School. Mimi was let go and the boy was heartbroken for quite awhile. For two years he had been having sex with her in one form or another at least several times a week. Even though he was still only a child by ordinary standards, he was a big boy for his age, mature and he missed it.
In the rigorous training of Military School, though, he soon learned to sublimate his sex drive.
In discussion with some of the other boys about sex, he would tell them of his experiences with Mimi. They didn't believe him, of course. This upset him. He kept quiet about it from then on.
As a young man, during college and afterward, he dated many types of girls but never seemed to derive full and complete sexual satisfaction, except for the instances, not too frequent, where he was able to bed down a nurse. This penchant continued all through his life. He was twenty nine years old before he married. He knew that he would never be able to remain for long sexually true with one woman. He married only because it was the socially acceptable thing to do and because an attractive and charming wife would also be a business asset to him. He knew of his wife's psychological problem beforehand; it didn't bother him. She readily agreed that he could seek relief elsewhere when it was necessary, so long as he was completely discreet and didn't make a fool of her.
He was forty years old before he finally found what was for him the perfect answer to his sex needs. Suffering from a broken hip sustained when thrown from a horse, he was brought to a small private hospital. The nurse assigned to him was young, dark and petite. She immediately reminded him of Mimi. He found himself strongly aroused whenever she was in the room.
The 'second day in the hospital, while she was changing his bed linen, looking at her, watching her move about he was unable to control attaining a fierce erection. His state became obvious, as revealed by the upthrust of the shortie hospital gown he was wearing. He knew that the nurse, Eileen, was aware of his condition by the way she was blushing and because her gaze kept flicking toward that part of him. Finally, he said to her:
"I'm sorry. I can't help it. You excite me very much."
"You're a bad boy," she reprimanded him but the severity of the words was negated by her sympathetic tone. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"Why? Because I like you? That's silly. It's just nature. I always get that way when I'm particularly attracted to a woman."
"Well, I'll take care of that for you," she said.
"You will?" he said, hopefully.
"Sure. I'll have them put saltpeter in your food, then you won't have the problem again."
He laughed. "You wouldn't dare. There are other, better ways you could take care of the matter, though."
"Don't be silly," she told him. "It's out of the question."
"I'm not so sure. I'm going to ask for a night nurse, from now on-for special duty, to be here with me all night-or at least as long as I need her."
"I don't think you'll get it," she said. "Your condition doesn't warrant it. Aside from that broken hipbone, you're healthy as a bear."
"Maybe my condition doesn't warrant it but my check book does. I'll pay extra for the service. In addition there'll be a hundred dollars a night, cash, under the table bonus for my nurse, whom ever it is. Of course, that will be for spec-al services rendered. Would you be interested?"
"Not under those conditions. I would be your nurse and nothing more. Understand that."
"We'll see," he said, smiling.
That night Eileen was assigned as his night nurse. As soon as they were alone, he took his wallet from under his pillow and removed a hundred dollar bill from it, put it on the nightstand table next to the bed.
"There you go," he said.
She looked at the money, then sighed, exasperated. "You're crazy. I told you, before, I'm here as your nurse and nothing else."
She held out for over an hour but the man was very persuasive, personable; he appealed to her female vanity, her understanding and her sympathy for his plight as a woman and as a nurse. He told her about his first sex experiences with Mimi, noting that as he recounted these early adventures, Eileen showed signs of becoming aroused. Then he told her that women with small breasts particularly appealed to him; he thought large breasts were bovine, unattractive.
Eileen, like many women, not too well endowed in that area, had long been self conscious about it. She had been teased about it by other women and by men with whom she'd been intimate. Now here was a wealthy, vigorous, attractive man with the completely opposite viewpoint; it did something for her ego.
A few moments later, when he revealed himself in a highly aroused state and bluntly asked whether she was going to take care of him or would he have to do it, himself, with a small smile part resignation, part excitement, she said: "Damn you, anyway!" and went over to him.
As she stood beside the bed, caressing him, he reached up and undid her uniform. She was wearing a bra which fastened in the front. He undid that and exposed her tiny breasts, like halves of lemons, with their elongated dark tips. He moved his hand to them and then raised on his elbows so that as she bent forward slightly, he could pay homage to them with his lips and tongue. She became quite excited and the action of her own hand increased.
After awhile he reached down one hand and slipped it up under her starched white uniform, stroking and kneading her soft thighs. Then he slipped it under the edge of her tautly fitted panties. She gave forth a welcoming cry. They quickly brought each other to release.
Later, when he was again in condition, Eileen had another idea. She removed her panties, climbed up onto the bed, straddling him and after arousing herself first with delayed superficial contact, she lowered herself and encased him completely. She was gentle and adept and extremely agile and gave him release such as he had never known before.
For five nights following, Eileen entertained him in one way or another, more than earning her nightly bonus, until he was forced to leave the hospital and return home in a wheel chair because of the demands of his business, which could no longer do without him.
From that time on, whenever he was no longer able to sublimate his strong sex urge, he would select some small private hospital and cheek in for a "rest" from "nervous exhaustion." It was never too difficult for him to find three or four, on the staff, who could not see anything too wrong in obliging and helping out a likable, attractive male patient-especially at those prices.
Of course, sometimes he had to pay even more, to acquire the services of some nurse who particularly attracted him, if she couldn't be convinced in any other way. He operated on the age-old principle that "everyone has their price."
To the credit of the nursing profession in general, with a great many of them he proved to be wrong. They were just not available for any price. But like heavy hitters in any league, "The Old Goat" knew that sometimes you had to strike out. It didn't disturb him greatly. In fact he had extreme respect for the women he couldn't ever bribe.
CHAPTER NINE
LOVE NEST ON WHEELS
The Oxford Universal Dictionary defines an Ambulance as: "-a moving hospital, attending an army as it moves, so as to succor the wounded without delay...."
In at least one instance, as reported by a researcher, an ambulance was also used as a vehicle to aid and abet an illicit romance without delay.
At a County Hospital, an ambulance driver named Larry and a pretty little lab worker named Marge, developed a terrific yen for each other. There was a problem, though. Marge was married and her husband was a very large, ill tempered and especially jealous husband. For a long time it looked as though Larry and Marge would never be able to get together, although both were very much in favor of this if it could be worked out. It finally was.
Marge's husband kept strict check of Marge's time. He knew her hours at the hospital, of course. He knew just about how long it took her on the bus to get home. If she was five minutes late, he would fly into a rage and accuse her of all kinds of things. As long as she arrived home on schedule, though, there was no problem.
It took Marge about 45 minutes to get from the hospital to her home, on the bus. One day Larry figured that the ambulance could make it in half that time. If Marge was driven home in the ambulance, it would allow them at least 20 minutes for dalliance.
He enlisted the aid of the other driver, an amiable fellow. Whenever it worked out well, when the ambulance wasn't on call for an emergency, Marge was sneaked into the back of the ambulance with Larry, where they made the best of the comfortable bedding there, while the partner drove leisurely about the streets until they were through. Then Marge would be rapidly driven home, or dropped off about a block from her home, she would arrive right on schedule.
This worked out fine for several weeks, until a friend of Marge's husband, passing by in a car, saw Marge alighting from the ambulance. He promptly informed the husband.
The next evening, the husband was waiting and when Marge alighted, he knocked her down with one clout and then proceeded to belt the two ambulance drivers around until they, themselves, were in need of emergency service.
Ambulance drivers in general are noted for being successful make-out artists. There is a certain amount of grim glamor to their job, and some danger, as they race through the busy city streets at high speed in answer to an emergency call. Men engaged in work of this sort frequently have a special sexual appeal to members of the opposite sex. And again there is the added appeal of being at least loosely connected with the medical profession. At the scene of an accident, these men, trained in first aid, are in actuality, "substitute or temporary doctors."
They frequently wear white coats and carry emergency aids in their own little black bags.
Because the percentage of actual doctors on any hospital staff is small by comparison to the total amount of female employees of all kinds, other male employees often catch the overflow of amorously inclined women in the institution. Interns, orderlies, lab workers and ambulance drivers often get their share.
At least one other instance of sex on wheels has been reported.
CASE HISTORY
CELIA J.-Age 19
She came from a wealthy family, went to the best private schools, then quit college in her second year, to go into Social Work. Part of her training required putting in time at the local hospital, without pay. She was a tall, willowy blonde young woman, with a full, succulent looking mouth and smoky, sexy looking blue eyes. She was very friendly with the men employees of the hospital and gave every indication of being easy prey to their amorous advances. She was not. Nobody was able to get anywhere with her at all. Gradually, most of the men ceased trying.
Then one day Celia evinced interest in the hospital's emergency ambulance. The drivers, two men in their late twenties, Mike and Chuck, showed her the various components of the vehicle and she seemed unusually interested in it. A few nights later, she asked Chuck if it would be possible to ride in it. There was something suddenly wild and wanton in her expression that he'd never seen there, before. He got the message almost at once.
After conferring with the other driver, Mike, they made a date with Celia to meet them in another part of the hospital grounds, after they were off duty, that night. Their plan was to tell their relief drivers that something was wrong with this particular ambulance and they wanted to drive it to the shop to check it out. They were then free to proceed to pick up Celia at the appointed spot.
Chuck got into the back with her, after she asked Mike if he could give her a real fast ride, siren screaming, as though they were on a nemergency call. Mike agreed after a knowing wink and nod from Chuck. As soon as they left the hospital grounds, Mike headed for an open highway and opened the vehicle up to high speed, set the siren to keening.
Almost immediately, Celia lurched against Chuck, her beautiful eyes heavy-lidded and glittering almost as though she was drugged. She gasped and grabbed his hand and immediately placed it against her breast, saying: "Oh, God, Chuck, I'm so excited. Feel how my heart is beating."
He couldn't have cared less about her heart but he was interested in the full swell of her unbrassiered breast against his hand, the way the excited nipple felt as though it was going to poke right through the cloth of her dress. He eagerly squeezed and petted it while Celia cuddled against him.
Next he was surprised to feel her hand creep into his lap, seek and find his already aroused malehood. "Oh, honey!" she cried against the wail of the siren. "Riding in this thing gets me hot. I've never felt like this before. I don't know what it is."
Chuck didn't know, either and didn't care. He was an opportunist. He quickly drew the curtains over the windows and in a trice had Celia stripped to the waist. While she manipulated him, he caressed her hot, throbbing breasts, first with his hands and then his mouth.
Soon, as the speeding ambulance careened around curves and raced through the city, Chuck had Celia completely stripped. When neither of them could wait any longer he adjusted himself to her. She dug her fingernails into his back until they drew blood. She rubbed her breasts against his chest and her legs circled and imprisoned him and she was the wildest sexual partner Chuck had ever encountered. After he finally erupted and prepared to leave her, she cried out in protest:
"Oh, no! No, please, no! I-I want more. Oh, it was so wonderful."
Chuck, of course, was unable to oblige her but the next best thing. He signalled to his partner, Mike, that they should change places. Mike stopped the ambulance in the first deserted section of road and took over in the back while Chuck did the driving.
During the next few months, Celia took many rides with the two ambulance drivers, during which time she introduced them to several variations of sex play, while riding at high speed and with the siren weirdly keening, including fellatio and anal entry.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, other men who made a play for her could get nowhere. Several times Chuck and Mike tried to talk with her about her vulnerability under these peculiar circumstances. She always cut them off sharply. She either could not or would not discuss it.
The strange affair of Celia and the two ambulance drivers ended suddenly one night in a bad accident. All three were badly injured, as were a couple in another car. All three eventually recovered. Chuck and Mike were fired, of course, had to look for another type of work. Celia's family put her under psychiatric care. She was not a very cooperative patient and the analyst never was able to break through and learn what her hidden motivations had been.
He did learn one thing, though. When the accident occurred, Celia was in the midst of orgasm. She also told him that she no longer found even the thought of riding in an ambulance sexually stimulating, would never be bothered by that particular problem again.
Professional opinion was that her aberration had something to do with hidden but extreme guilt complexes regarding sex. It was thought that possibly riding in an ambulance represented "danger" to her, the high speed and keening siren, having some connotation with the word "accident." It was suspected that possibly Celia was subconsciously hoping for an accident so that she would be punished for indulging in long sublimated sexual urges. Being badly injured, finally, in an accident that occurred at the high point of sexual release, suffering for many weeks afterward with the pain of her injuries, was considered to be the ultimate in fulfillment for her punishment-wish.
CHAPTER TEN
WHAT ABOUT DOCTOR'S WIVES?
Sometimes there is a converse reaction on the part of the women married to them, to the magnetic sexual attraction men in the medical profession have for a lot of other women. Cases have been known where the doctor's wife becomes tired of the cloying professional mannerisms, the constant talk about the profession, the constant social contact only with other physicians and surgeons and their wives. When this occurs, she will sometimes look to other fields-usually far removed.
It is understandable to some degree why in some instances a doctor's wife will become unfaithful. Today's physician, frequently in the
$50,000 a year category, is often a too-busy man. He is connected with various clubs and associations. He must continually study to keep up with the modern changes and concepts in the practice of medicine. He is frequently called away from his home, after hours, or in the middle of some social event, on an emergency. He has to keep himself in good physical shape, on the golf course or in the gymnasium. He often sees little of his wife or family. The demands on his time are too great.
Sometimes the wives of these men feel neglected. Especially, if the husband does sometimes succumb to temptation and enjoys the sexual liberties thrust upon him by aggressive women.
Such was the case with Dr. C.'s wife.
CASE HISTORY
LOUELLA C.-Age 32
She was not a beautiful woman by popular standards. Her face was rather plain and her figure was nothing special; her breasts were average but she did have rather full hips and long, beautifully curved legs. She did, though, have an aura of "class" about her, having been educated in the best private schools on the Eastern Seaboard and in Europe. At the same time, she was so completely feminine in every way, every move that she made, the way she spoke, even, that this in itself had a sexual quality that was attractive to men.
Louella had never known any man, intimately, except her husband. Before she was married, she had "done everything" except have intercourse with a man. The first years of their marriage she found her husband a very desirable sex partner. He was solicitous of her feelings, was a sensitive and considerate lover. They had few, if any problems. She never even dreamed that some day she would be forced to look for satisfaction with another man.
The situation occurred gradually. As Dr. C. became more and more successful in his profession, built up a larger, more prosperous practice, the demands on his personal time also increased. In the past year or so, it had reached a situation where he would be out for one reason or another, several nights a week, until nearly midnight. When he did get home, he would be "too tired" to take over his husbandly duties. The past six months, even on the nights when he was home, he didn't seem too interested. His wife did not know this, but the reason was that Dr. C, was in the midst of a torrid affair with his 22 year old nurse.
When he did get around to going to bed with his wife for purposes other than sleeping, she practically had to seduce him into it. Even then she found that his response lacked spontaneity; his efforts were clinically perfect but yet something was wrong. She found herself, in the wake of her continued frustration, resenting or at least not responding fully, when he finally did make love to her, to his sensitive touch, his artful and subtle approaches. At times she would wish that instead of so sensitively caressing her breasts, he would seize them roughly, squeeze them until they hurt, that instead of leading her so slowly, professionally and knowingly along the road to a high pitch of excitement, that sometimes he would abandon himself to spontaneous male lust and take her roughly, brutally, savagely.
Once she mentioned this to him and he laughed at her, asked her what fun that would be for her; that kind of treatment was for unimaginative peasant women.
Then, Louella C. slowly began to find herself sexually attracted to types of men completely opposite to what her husband was. She would notice burly, dirty looking laboring men, working on street repairs, telephone repair men, the carpenters and bricklayers working in a housing development building project, near her super market. She would look at some of these men, heavy-muscled, sweating and would begin to fantasy what it might be like to have sex with one of them.
She once told a close personal friend: "Sometimes I look at one of those big, muscular brutes, the arrogant swagger of them when they walk, the bold way they look at you and I have an almost insane urge to go up to him and say, 'rape me! rape me! and then have him throw me down in a ditch, right then and there and yank up my dress, tear off my panties and give it to me, fast and good and rough. Sometimes I get so excited thinking about it, I get wet."
The other woman laughed. "Oh, Louella, you have got it bad but I doubt you'd really enjoy it very much. If you could talk with the wives of some of these men you'd probably learn that that kind of animal coupling leaves a lot to be desired."
Louella C. wasn't so sure of that. Her opportunity to find out came a few weeks later. Something went wrong with her refrigerator. She called a repair company. The man they sent out was in his early thirties. He had close cropped curly black hair, a meaty face set off by hard looking blue eyes and a sensual, almost girlish mouth. He was big, a little over six feet and weighing about two hundred ten pounds. His shoulders were bulky and his arms, exposed by highly rolled sleeves, were thick with muscle, the biceps bulging. His forearms and the backs of his hands were extremely hairy.
When he first entered, he looked her over, quickly, arrogantly, as though she might be some piece of merchandise he would be interested in buying and then showed no further interest. She took him out into the kitchen, explained to him what seemed to be wrong with the refrigerator. He just grunted and set his toolbox down and wrestled the huge, heavy refrigerator away from the wall, so he could get to the motor in back.
As he did this, Louella watched his muscles strain and ripple and cord out. She felt the fine patina of hairs along her thighs stand stiffly as excitement slithered through her. She remembered that this was the maid's day off and they were alone in the house. She wondered what she would really do, if he made a pass at her. Would she react as she had so many times fantasied or would her natural instincts suddenly take over, causing her to give him a fast brushoff.
She looked down at him as he peered into the refrigerator motor, tested wires and parts.
She saw the thickness of his neck. Then he stretched out full length on the floor, reaching to get at a difficult part of the motor and she saw his tight work pants rucked up even more tightly by his position, outlining the shape and bulge of his genitals. He looked huge. She felt faint and had to turn to the sink and take a drink of water.
Then she went back to watch him work. Suddenly, without looking up, he said: "Lady, do you have to stand over me while I work? It makes me nervous."
She felt as though she'd been struck in the face. She backed away. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't know I was annoying you."
He didn't answer, continued, with his work. She turned and fled the room, humiliated, thinking, you ignorant son of a bitch, you! Who do you think you are, to speak to me like that. You bastard, if I wanted to, I could make you beg for it, you big, stupid animal. But I wouldn't have anything to do with you, if you were the last man on earth.
She went to her bedroom, suddenly deciding to take a swim, to cool off literally and figuratively. Clad in a revealing one piece bathing suit, she went back out into the kitchen, where the repair man was putting in some new wires on the refrigerator motor. She said: "I'm going out to the patio. When you're finished, leave the bill on the table and I'll send you a check."
He glanced up and his eyes lighted. His tongue moistened his full lips and his gaze traveled lovingly along the sweep of her long, beautifully curved bare legs and then rested knowingly at their apex. Then his eyes moved to hers, stared into them bold and lustfully. He grinned and she saw that his teeth were big and even and very white.
"Lady," he said. "That's some outfit!" He gave a brief whistle.
She tossed her head. Coldly, she said: "Put your eyes back on your work. I wouldn't want to make you nervous!"
She turned and stalked away toward the patio and pool in back of the house, conscious of his eyes following her, taking in the feminine swing of her rounded hips and derriere. She heard him chuckle.
Outside, she jumped into the pool but strangely the cool water merely seemed to emphasize the almost feverish heat of her body. She swam about trying to rid her thoughts of the masculine animal inside. She couldn't. Finally, she decided, I'll fix him! She quickly wriggled out of her swimsuit, in the water and tossed it up onto the side of the pool. The water now slithered about her naked body like caressing hands. Her breasts felt hard and aching and the nipples stood out like little dark prongs. She got onto her back and floated and her breasts broke through the surface and the warm sun touched them and again it was like a teasing hand.
She told herself: I wish he'd come out here, now and see me. I'd drive him crazy. And then if he even dared to try to touch me, I'd kill him.
He didn't come, though. After awhile, she grew impatient. She climbed out of the pool and with out putting on the wet swim suit again, donned her chenille robe and hurried back into the kitchen. He was gone. The bill was on the table. Louella bit her lip and cursed him, almost overcome with frustration.
For the next two days she couldn't get the man off of her mind. The third day she took a few drinks to work up her courage and then she called his repair service, asked them to send Max out again (his name had been on his work shirt), that the refrigerator still wasn't working right.
He arrived a half hour later and Louella was waiting for him, wearing a short, terry cloth beach jacket that came only halfway down her thighs, as though she was about to go out to the pool. She wasn't, of course. She wasn't even wearing a swim suit. She wore nothing under the short robe.
When Max came in, he said in a surly manner: "What's wrong with the thing, now?"
She shrugged, her eyes moving to the visible knot at his crotch. "How would I know? I'm not a repair man. It's just not working right; it still needs fixing."
He grunted and went out into the kitchen, her following him. Again he wrestled the refrig out from the wall, threw himself down on the floor, to examine the motor. After checking a few wires, he looked up. She was standing right near him. He said: "I don't see anything-" His words broke abruptly off as his eyes traveled up the curved length of her calves, over her dimpled knees, up the long, smooth plumpness of her thighs and under the robe. He stared at the tri angle of her womanhood. His face grew flushed and tight and then he grinned a little and his gaze rose to meet hers. He saw the look in her eyes, a small pulse beating at her temple and knew that she knew he had seen everything, that she had wanted him to.
"Well," he said, starting to get to his feet. "1 see. I guess it isn't the refrigerator that needs fixing, is it?"
She said: "What-what do you mean?"
He was standing now, right in front of her, very close. She began to tremble and feel waves of heat flowing through her.
"I mean this," he said. His hand shot out and slid under the front flap of her robe and seized her there, firmly, tightly, almost roughly, his fingers delving and beginning to work, immediately. He said, huskily: "I mean, I think this is what needs fixing, lady. Isn't that why you called me?"
She gasped and blurted: "No, of course not! You must be crazy!"
But the way she was already rewarding his quick, rough manipulation, told him that he was not. He said: "Come on, Baby, don't be coy. I know what you want. I've got it for you, too."
She looked down, then and the evidence of his readiness was enormous, through the tight trousers. She just stood there now, her breath beginning to come as fast as his own, as he opened the robe. His other hand moved from one breast to the other, lifting, kneading, squeezing the firm round flesh, tweaking and pinching the outstretching nipples.
"Oh, yes!" she murmured, now. "Squeeze them harder. Don't be afraid. Be rough! Hurt me!"
His strong, blunt fingers followed her orders. Then he tried to pull her into his arms, to kiss her. She half twisted away. She said: "No! Don't kiss me. None of that. Just do it. I don't want to wait." Then she reached out and seized him, fiercely, for a moment. Then her hands fumbled at his trousers. He helped her and then when he was out of his trousers and shorts, still wearing his work shirt, with her still wearing the opened robe, he lifted her and carried her and set her on the kitchen table. He lifted her thighs and moved between them. Without any further preliminaries, she felt him move to her and then wcs roughly invaded. She fell back upon the table and felt his hands reach for and find her breasts, dig into their soft flesh while he worked and pounded at her like a wild animal.
She screamed her pleasure as the first spasming shock of relief seemed to tear her apart and then was followed by a second and third before she felt and heard him bellow out his own final satisfaction.
Afterward, she felt lethargic and sick with guilt. Max was feeling happy and talkative after his easy conquest. She cut him short, glancing at the clock and giving the first excuse that came into her mind. "I'm sorry, Max," she said, not looking at him. "But we don't have time to chat. I'm expecting friends any minute. I've got to dress and you get out of here, please. Right now."
He shrugged, unperturbed. "Okay. See you later, doll. And don't worry. I won't tell anybody." When he left she went to her room and fell, still naked, onto the bed and was almost instantly asleep. When she awakened a few hours later, she felt greatly refreshed, strangely at ease. She thought about what had happened and now a few hours later, it seemed unreal, almost like a dream, except that the bruises on her breasts and the slight soreness of her intimate parts, was evidence that it was not.
Two days later, Max called her on the phone. He said: "How's your refrigerator, honey?"
Instantly, she began to tremble and perspire. She had previously resolved that she would never call him and that if he called her, she would tell him to forget it, that it had been an accident, he had caught her in a weak moment and it wasn't ever going to happen again. Now, at the sound of his deep, husky, arrogant voice, she wasn't so sure.
Stiffly, she said: "It's okay. There's nothing wrong with it. Thank you for calling."
He laughed. "Don't mention it, kid. Then how about your oven? I'll bet that's just as hot as it was the other day. How about me coming over? I've got some time off. You know, you're somethin' else! I like 'em wild and eager like you, no fiddle-faddling around. Can I come right over?"
Her voice was so weak, she could hardly get the word out. "No."
"Aw, come on. You can't mean that. What's good once, is even better the second time. And I'll have a surprise for you this time. Take yourself a nice shower and I'll be right over."
For a long moment she couldn't answer and then she whimpered: "Yes, Max. All right." She hung up.
She took the shower and dismissed the maid for the day, before doing so. She had just donned a filmy negligee, when the doorbell rang. She let Max in and his hands instantly worked under the negligee, began to massage her aching breasts. He said: "Let's be comfortable and use the bedroom today, Baby."
She nodded and led him toward it, while he held one arm around her, fondling her crudely, as they walked side by side. In the bedroom, he immediately undressed and she saw his massive chest, heavily furred with black hair and she slipped out of the negligee. He grabbed her and excitedly threw her onto the bed, across it. Then he kneeled beside it and spread her thighs and roughly buried his face against her. She felt the roughness of his beard stubble scratching her thighs. She felt his tongue and mouth savagely devouring her and she shrieked with surprised delight.
After she had exploded twice in rapid succession, he swung her around full length on the bed and then began again, but this time with his reversed body parallel to hers. She was confronted by his excited manhood at close quarters and knew immediately what was excepted of her. She used her hand for a moment and then bent her head toward him, her mouth opening.
Louella had never engaged in either of these tactics before. She found her response almost unbearable....
For the next month, Max visited her two or three times a week. And then one afternoon, Dr. C. came home unexpectedly, caught his wife and Max in the shower together.
He went and got his revolver and then told Max if he ever came near his house or his wife again, he would kill him; if he couldn't do it with his bare hands, he'd do it with a gun. Max got out in a hurry. As soon as he was gone, when Dr. C. looked at his weeping, ashamed wife, his anger fled. As a physician he now realized that there had to be some vital cause for his wife's infidelity and that he was probably a big part of it. He managed to quiet her down and they talked for several hours. He told her that he understood, under the circumstances, how it could have happened and that he didn't fully blame her; he, himself, was not without guilt. Then he asked her what she could possibly get from a man like Max, that she couldn't get from him.
She drew in a deep breath and bluntly told him. Being two intelligent people, possessing a basically deep and sound love for each other, who because of circumstances had gotten off the track, they were able to make an adjustment. Dr. C. from then on was a much more attentive husband and lover, spent a lot more of his time at home and with his wife. Louella was never unfaithful again.
This case was unusual in several ways. First, it is not too often that a wife's infidelity leads to a happy ending for the marriage. Secondly, most physicians' wives do not have such acute marital problems. They are usually patient, understanding souls, fully able to cope with the marital problems that arise because of their husbands' trying profession. Divorces are no more common, probably less so, in the Medical profession than in any other.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
BEDS AND BAWDS
Similar to the previously told case of "The Old Goat," are ones involving wealthy, bored women who sometimes check into a private hospital for the same reason. The "official" reason is often listed as "nervousness" or "nervous exhaustion." The extreme privacy accorded patients, especially wealthy ones, in some private hospitals, along with relaxed supervision, makes it the perfect place for these ladies to work out their sexual problems.
In one hospital, a beautiful, voluptuously constructed young society matron is well known to the staff. She checks in every three or four weeks for a week or two and during that time, goes through the male members of the staff, one by one, including orderlies, ambulance drivers and even some of the male office help. She is wildly imaginative and by the time she has finally appeased her sexual hunger, which borders on nymphomania, the male members of the staff are exhausted and happy to see her leave.
Private hospitals specializing in help for Alcoholics, both men and women, sometimes have trouble coping with behind the scene sexual activities. Once a patient has "dried out," (gotten all the alcohol residue out of his or her system) and is cut off from their first love, booze, sex suddenly becomes the next best thing. Frequently, alcoholics, at least those with the intelligence and financial means to seek help, are physically attractive people, once their dissipation has been cut off and they've had a week's rest. Nurses in some of these hospitals have been known to find the men patients irresistible. The same thing applies to women patients and doctors, orderlies and other male help.
Hospital parties, especially during the Christmas and New Year holidays, can sometimes be wild affairs. A friend of the author's related the following instance.
He visited his wife who was in the hospital recovering from pneumonia, on New Years eve. He brought along a bottle of expensive bourbon for the young, attractive nurse who had been especially attentive to his wife. Later, as he was about to leave, the nurse thanked him for the bottle, told him it was a great contribution to the little party the staff was having, why didn't he join them for a drink?
Facing the not too bright prospect of spending the balance of New Years Eve alone, he readily accepted. The party was based in one of the recreation rooms. Among the revelers were doctors, nurses, nurses aides, orderlies, social workers and some of the night office staff. The guest found it to be a pleasant, orderly affair, until after midnight. Nobody got falling down drunk but a number of them did get pretty high. Soon the party began to spread out as couples teamed up and slipped away from the recreation room.
Meanwhile the guest had been making time with a pretty little brunette office clerk. One thing led to another, under the stimulating influence of liquor and they decided to look for a private place to enjoy a private party of their own. The girl, familiar with the hospital, told him there were any number of such places.
There were but they were all occupied by other "partying" couples. They tried the laundry rooms, the cafeteria, X-Ray labs, the office, the surgery rooms. Not one of them was empty. They even saw an orderly and an ambulatory female patient enjoying themselves in a public telephone booth.
The variety of positions and acts taking place in these places was almost unbelievable. The guest and his little office worker friend became so additionally stimulated by the carnal goings on upon which they stumbled that they could finally wait no longer themselves and were forced to disport themselves in the cramped confines of a broom closet. When they were finished, another couple was impatiently waiting for them to vacate the spot.
Once again, let it be stated that such affairs are not even remotely possible in most well run hospitals. But they do happen.
Newspaper readers all over the nation were shocked a few years ago when a big story broke, exposing the actual orgies that were being engaged in by pretty young college girl social workers and hardened sex criminal inmates of an Eastern state institution for the insane. High on alcohol, drugs and/or aphrodisiacs, these girls, most of them from good families and well educated, were taking part wilingly and enthusiastically in the most degrading sex acts with men incarcerated for the most vicious of sexual crimes; rape, sodomy, cannibalism, child molestation, voyeurism and the like.
These things didn't seem to make the men any less attractive as sex partners. If anything it seemed to make them more desirable to these at least temporarily depraved young women.
If this seems unbelievable, consider the fact that any psychiatrist or even men in charge of County jails, will tell you, that the more vicious a sex crime a man commits, the greater number of "fan" letters he will receive. The greatest part of them are from women. That these women are sick, is granted. The fact remains that evil, in all its forms, is an attractive male characteristic to a lot of women. Whether it arouses some misdirected mother instinct in them, whether they have the misguided notion that they can '"reform" these criminals, nobody really knows. It remains an unexplanned female quirk. One researcher was told by a nurse of a situation that she discovered years ago, while she was engaged, along with a number of other student nurses, in advanced training at a State Institution For The Insane.
There was a young inmate, about twenty six, who had been there most of his life. He was not particularly attractive physically. In addition to being harmlessly moronic, he was also deaf and dumb, could neither read nor write. One young student nurse, highly sexed and having been for some time cut off from intimate male companionship because of the rigors of her strict training schedule, decided that she had to have some relief, no matter whom it came from.
Knowing that the previously mentioned inmate, whose name was Oily, at least couldn't tell on her, she sought him out and quickly seduced him in a secluded part of the grounds. She was amazed to find that Oily, who had been treated shabbily by Nature in most respects, had been endowed in one area. He was so massive that the nurse was at first afraid that she might suffer painful physical damage. But imaginative experimentation won out and she was finally able to enjoy Olly's extreme virility by wrapping a towel about the base of him, so that he was unable to penetrate completely.
Word spread around and Olly's services were soon in constant demand, so much so, that at times the poor creature, in a state of exhaustion, would have to hide for several days until he had recuperated.
Lesbianism isn't as common a practice in hospitals as heterosexual activities but it does occur.
One incident was cited in which a beautiful and wealthy lesbian career woman, was hospitalized for some minor ailment and became almost insanely enamored of her young nurse. She made subtle overtures toward the girl at first and then came on strong with outright propositions. The little nurse was just not interested.
Finally, the lesbian bribed with a considerable amount of money, an unscrupulous orderly to get hold of an aphrodisiac and sneak it into the girl's Cola drink one night when she was on duty. The deed was done and a half hour later the nurse was enticed into the lesbian's private room and under the effect of the erotically stimulating drug became almost at once an eager victim. Later, they were caught in the act and the nurse was fired, discredited in her profession. It was then fairly easy for the lesbian to talk her into coming to live with her, where for many years the two were inseparable and the nurse enjoyed all the luxuries of life.
Of course, when she became older and the lesbian began to lose interest, the girl was discarded. By that time she was fully caught up in the lesbian way of life, no longer had interest in any other and was forced to look for another "husband". From then on, she was handed about from one of these sexually ill women to another and finally wound up, an alcoholic, living in squalor with an ugly old "butch" who constantly mistreated her.
The history of women being sexually attracted to men of the medical and associated professions, goes way back, and extends to far comers of the earth. Witch doctors in savage tribes, hundreds of years ago, as well as today, were often considered super beings. In addition to various "cures" they were and are, often sought out by female members of the tribe for sexual purposes. Or if the witch doctor happened to take a fancy to some attractive female in the village, even if she didn't feel the same way about him, she didn't dare to resist his advances. If she did so, he could bring a curse upon her. Often times, an old witch doctor, attracted by some very young and nubile girl in the tribe, would take her to his hut for "special juju." He would then commit whatever sexual act he desired upon the child and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
So-called "Hex Doctors" operate, secretly, even today, in America, especially in the Pennsylvania Dutch country. In addition to bringing about "cures" of various ailments, they also are available to "put curses" on people, make certain girls "available" and willing for the sexual advances of a man who lusts for her. It is believed that in some of these cases, hypnosis is used. Whatever the method, it frequently is effective. Cases have com to light where young women claimed that they had been "hexed" in such a way that even though they literally "hated" a man, they were unable to resist his advances. One young wife claimed that she had been seduced by her next door neighbor, an ugly old man, several times a week for a number of years, because he had "hexed" her into doing it.
Hypnosis, especially the shady ones, operating with little or no credentials, contrary to popular belief that it is impossible to make one do what is basically against his nature, while under hypnosis, sometimes do manage to seduce a female client while she is "under". It is doubtful that any legitimate, properly accredited hypnotist would stoop to such a practice. But rare cases have come to light and been publicized in the newspapers.
One man was finally arrested after he had been privately treating a well developed twelve year old girl for stammering. Under hypnosis, he had forced her to allow him first to toy with her immature breasts, then to allow him more intimate privileges. Finally, he was able to get her to strip and allow him to engage in cunnilingus and intercourse with her.
Here, again, the hypnotist is surrounded with the "professional" aura of the medical profession, even though he is usually is not a member of it. As in the many other cases cited in this book, it seems that this almost alone qualifies him to be successful in seducing gullible females of various ages, if he so desires.
Probably the only solution to this whole problem is greater and more widely spread knowledge of the subject and more publicity concerning it, more exploration of the many and varied motivations behind it.
