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The Horrible Hospital

By: Lady Malachite



To the beautiful Cecilia, 

a horrible tale of woe and kinkiness...

The Horrible Hospital

"Get me to the hospital, and quick!" I yell at the taxi driver as I struggle to fasten the seat belt over my bloated stomach. "I'm going to have a baby!"

The driver eyes me critically. "Are you sure you're not just fat? You look kind of fat to me."

"I'm pregnant, damn it!" I yell, as a contraction courses through me. "NOW GET ME TO THE HOSPITAL!"

"God damn it, woman, there's no reason to yell!" The driver says, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "And there's sure as hell no reason for you to swear."

"Oh, for heaven's sake get me to the hospital," I plead. "I don't want to have this baby here!"

"And you're sure you're pregnant?" the driver asks.

"Good God, yes! I'm giving birth, for crying out loud! Why aren't you listening to me?"

"Oh, and now you've gone and taken the Lord's name in vain," the driver clucks. "Irreverent bitch."

I gasp. Imagine calling me a name like that! I force myself to take a deep breath and will myself to speak. "If you have any mercy in your body, please just drive," I say as calmly and evenly as I can manage, rubbing my stomach, trying to force myself to relax. The driver doesn't say anything. After a moment, I hear the engine start and the cab pulls away from the curb. 

Everything's going to be all right, after all. I'm going to a hospital to deliver my baby. I'm too happy for words. 

I hear the driver begin speaking and my heart sinks. "What hospital do you want to go to?" he asks.

"Whichever one is closest."

"You don't know which hospital you need to go to?!"

"It doesn't really matter, does it? As long as I get there, and quick!"

"Listen woman, I'm trying to help you. If you go to the wrong hospital, your insurance isn't going to cover it. Now if you're smart, you'll figure out which hospital you need to go to."

"Look, I can't tell you off the top of my head. Anyway, this is an emergency. Just take me to whatever's closest."

"Whatever you like," the driver says with a shrug.

We continue driving. I can tell that my contractions are getting closer and closer together. I try to relax and not think about it. I still have plenty of time. The cab drives into the parking lot of the nearest hospital. I reach around the seat, looking for my wallet to pay my cab fare. Oh my God, it's in the pocket of my coat! And my coat is still at the restaurant!

"Driver?" I say timidly. "I seem to have left my wallet in the restaurant. But if you don't mind waiting in the parking lot, I'm sure my husband will gladly give you a handsome tip as soon as he's able to get off work."

"You don't have money?!" The driver yells, slamming on the breaks.

"But my husband will pay you, if you just wait..."

He parks in an empty spot and pulls the handbrake up noisily.

"Listen girlie, I'm not letting you out of this car until you pay me one way or another."

"But I told you! My wallet's still at the restaurant. I don't have any other money. I need to get to the emergency room! My husband will be here in half an hour to pay you, can't you just wait?"

"You've got pretty big tits," the driver interrupts.

"Yeah, well, I'm nine months pregnant, thank you very much."

"Will you let me hold 'em?" 

"I'm in labor. Are you really going to hold me a prisoner in your taxi cab so you can fondle my breasts? You must be one sick bastard." I unbelt myself and open the door. I have trouble getting out of the car because of my belly, and by the time I close the door, he's standing in front of me, waiting.

"You know I am, sweetie," he says, taking my nipple in his hand and squeezing it. I cry out in pain as he begins to ease up and starts cupping and massaging my breasts.

"No bra! I knew you were a naughty girl," he says in a rugged voice. 

"Leave me alone!" I protest.

"You know, your breasts are kind of sagging. Oh well, I guess you're just old," he sighs.

"I'm pregnant!" I yell.

He pushes me down onto the ground with a thud. Just as my back hits the concrete, another contraction races through my body causing me to cry out. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" I watch his crotch harden. I don't know what's worse, the fact that he intends to rape me, or the fact that the there are police cars parked all over the place and no one's going to do a thing about it.

"I want you to suck my dick," he says, fumbling with his fly.

"My, aren't you the romantic one."

"Suck my dick!"

"No way."

"Suck my dick!"

He thrusts the wretched hunk of meat into my mouth, almost causing me to choke. It feels gross and dirty in my mouth. Now I've sucked a dick or two in my life, so I feel free to tell you, this one is gross! It tastes like a bad pit toilet and fills my mouth almost entirely, making me feel as though I'm going to gag as it thrusts its way down my throat. He grabs me by the head and pushes me into him, my nose scraping his zipper. Fighting back tears, I bite down hard on his member. The pain causes him to cum, spilling a load of his nasty sperm into my mouth. He moans and writhes, and in the process lets go of my hair. 

I stand up slowly, holding my stomach in my one hand and clutching at the pain in my back with the other. I spit the goo out of my mouth, wipe it with the back of my hand and force myself to talk. 

"My husband will be here soon. And he'll give you your money. Let me go now and I won't tell him what happened, and he won't feel the need to call the police." The man stares at me, as if he hasn't understood a word. 

"You don't have no right to call the police! You know you loved sucking my big beautiful cock."

"I most certainly did not!"

"You wanted it. You know you did. It's not rape unless you fight back!"

"I bit you!" I exclaim. "I'm nine months pregnant and going through labor, I just want to get to the hospital! How much more can I fight?"

"I like it rough," the driver says, as if he hasn't heard anything I said. "Now go, woman! We're right across the parking lot from your precious hospital." 

"Goodbye," I say politely and waddle off. 

It feels like forever before I make it to the door of the emergency room. My back is killing me. I open the door with my left hand, kneading the sore spot with my right. The door has one of those automatic closing devices with make it nearly impossible to open with my weaker hand. I inch the door open slowly, trying desperately to ignore the pain in my back and forearm. I've almost managed to squeeze my belly through when an eight-year-old boy slams into my gut. Wham. And I'm flat on my back. The door slams closed on my swollen ankle. The boy rushes into the street. His young mother opens the door, yells something I don't catch, and takes off after him, letting the door slam shut again. Whack. I push myself into a sitting position using my arms, ignoring the bruises forming on my ankle.

"Hey, what are you doing sitting there? Either get in or get out. I can't have you blocking the door like that!" a nearby security guard barks at me.

"Would you mind helping me up? I'm in labor. I need to see a doctor as soon as possible."

"If you need to see a doctor so badly, why are you lying there blocking the door? What are you, drunk?"

"No, I'm pregnant. Some kid knocked me over and that's why I'm lying here. I'm not lazy and I'm not drunk. I fell, and now I'm having trouble getting back up. Won't you help me? It's not good for the baby, for me to be lying around like this."

"Do you want me to find the kid who did this to you?"

"No, I want you to help me up."

"Sorry ma'am, I can't do that. Union policy. I'm not allowed to lift more than half my body weight on the job or I could lose my membership privileges. One man lifts more than he can handle, and then we all have to lift too much. But if you like, I'll find the kid who did this to you and make him apologize."

"That won't be necessary," I say, grabbing the brick of the building with my fingernails and using it to slowly and painfully pull myself to standing, sort of diagonally, half in, half out of the emergency room. My left ankle feels like it going to crumple under my weight and my back hurts like an old woman's, but keeping my balance with my right hand, I'm able to ease the door open slowly with my left.

"You sure act like you're drunk!" the guard insists, his eyes fixed on my bottom.

"I assure you, I haven't had a drop of alcohol in over seven months."

"You in rehab?" the guard asks, reluctantly removing his eyes from my butt, long enough to eye the rest of me suspiciously.

"I've been pregnant!"

"Well, you do look a little fat."

"Pregnant!" I exclaim.

"Whatever," the guard scoffs.

I push the door open the rest of the way and carefully ease myself through. The door slams behind me, barely missing skinning me alive. I take a couple of steps forward towards the check-in desk, smug at my success at getting this far. Suddenly, as I inch forward, I hear a terrible ripping sound and turn to find my dress lying on the floor in rags. 

"Oh my god!" I squeal frantically, covering my breasts with my arms. The whole room stares at me. A man with a nail through his hand grins toothily, a noticeable bulge forming in his pants. A mother of three smiles self-consciously and then looks away.

I feel a hand on my ass and wheel around to find the guard groping me. "I need you to come with me, lady. We can't have you walking around without clothing. Let's see if some of the donation clothes fit you."

"Oh thank God!" I reply. "Please lead the way!"

The guard takes me to a back room full of boxes and locks the door behind us. 

"Most of the larger clothes are in that box in the corner. Feel free to rummage around, see if there's anything you want." I bend over the box to open it, and the guard begins rubbing my bottom with his hand.

"Do you mind?" I snap irritably.

"Not at all, take your time," the guard says off-handedly.

"That's not what I meant!" I exclaim.

"Of course not," he says, his hand still on my buttocks.

I continue rummaging through the box. Most of the clothing looks like it was taken off of a dead prostitute, and the rest, from an oversized transvestite with worse than average fashion sense.

"You know, you have been acting rather suspiciously," the guard says suggestively, his crotch inching closer to the seat of my panties. "I might have to try a full cavity search."

"This is sexual harassment!" I protest.

"I'm just doing my job, ma'am, protecting the hospital from terrorists. You think I like cavity searching fat naked women? But you see, I've really got no choice here. We all have to do our part in the war on terror."

"But I'm a pregnant woman going through labor!"

"You're a security threat," he says calmly.

"I am not!" I protest.

"Ma'am, I found you lying in front of the door blocking the entrance, and I'm still nice enough to let you into the building. You can't even get through the waiting room without ripping off your clothing and parading out naked. That puts you at high risk of being either crazy or some sort of terrorist threat. So, either you be good and cooperate, or I call a team from the psychiatric ward down to sedate you and bring you upstairs for observation." His erection touches the seat of my underwear. I can feel it hard and swollen against my tender bottom. My body tenses automatically and I can feel my nether region beginning to get very damp. I find the slipperiness uncomfortable. It makes me feel too vulnerable. 

"You will be a good little girl, won't you?" he whispers hungrily. I shiver. Apparently, he takes that as a sign of submission. "Good," he whispers and slides his plump fingers under the elastic band of my panties. His touch feels warm against my skin, and I find myself whimpering despite myself.

"Please, please stop," I moan. "I haven't done anything wrong. All I want is to check into the hospital and deliver my baby. I'd never do anything like smuggle a gun up my rectum. I'm a normal, average woman, just trying to be a good wife and mother."

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but I really have no choice in the matter," he says, ripping my panties off of me, leaving my bare bottom cold and naked. "Now, if you cooperate, it will all be over soon, but if you resist..." He shoves one of his plump fingers up my butt. "...it's going to be slower and more painful."

"Oh please, no! I'm innocent!" I plead pathetically. The guard wiggles his finger in my rectum, as though searching it. I squirm uncomfortably.

"Well I don't feel anything suspicious yet, but then again, my finger's not quite what I'd call a sensitive instrument." I hear him unzip his fly. I turn my head and see his hard member in his hand.

"Oh please no, not without lubricant!" I gasp. "I've never had one in my butt before. It's too dirty!" The guard smiles.

"Don't think of it as a cock up your ass. It's a finally tuned, terrorist-stopping machine."

"It's just a cock and you know it!" I exclaim self righteously. "You have no business sticking it up me! It's sexual abuse, nothing else! You're not interested in protecting anything or anybody, all you care about is getting off!"

"What a funny thing to say," the guard replies stoically, his dick rubbing against the inside of my butt cheek. "Quite insane really. I'm sure the psycho ward would love to hear all about it."

"I'm sure they would! I bet the whole hospital would like to hear about a rogue security guard who likes to whisk women away into storage rooms on false pretenses!"

"It would be your word against mine, and let's face it, you haven't been acting exactly sane, now have you? No one's going to believe that I wanted to rape such a fat woman."

"I'm pregnant!"

"You're nuts. Now bend over and stick your ass in the air so I can get a better angle." I glare at him. "It's for you own good. No matter what, this cock is going in that ass of yours. Now, are you going to make it easy on yourself, or not?" So I bend over and stick out my butt. 

Now I read somewhere, I think it was Cosmo, that the secret to anal sex is to relax all the muscles in your butt. But how can I relax when there is a man standing behind me, planning on raping me? I take a deep breath and try to think peaceful thoughts. The feel of a rock hard cock in my butt brings an end to my meditation. I feel my flesh ripped and torn, my rectum full like never before, my pussy a gaping hole, completely useless. My stomach feels bigger and harder than ever before, as though it is held up by a steel framework. I almost wish I could give birth on the spot, just to feel more whole again. The cock plunges deeper and I scream. Before the noise can escape, I feel a hand cover my mouth to smother it. I try to bite it, but I've lost control of my jaw and my mouth hangs open, uselessly.

"Behave or it will take longer!" the guard barks, plunging deeper. I whimper in pain. "Now that's a good girl," the guard moans, pushing still deeper into me. This time, I stifle my cry and try to imagine myself someplace else. Green grass, yellow flowers, blue sky. There's just no way! I can't concentrate on anything with a cock pounding into me!

"Oh, oh, oh!" I whimper, trying to moan my way through the pain. 

"I don't feel anything suspicious yet," the guard grunts. "I guess I'll just have to check deeper."

"You know there's nothing up there!"

"I might suspect that there's nothing up your ass, but how am I supposed to know for sure unless I check? You wouldn't want me taking unreasonable chances with public safety, would you?"

"There's nothing reasonable about what you're doing!"

"Oh yeah?" He slams his dick into me the rest of the way. "You have strong beliefs for a crazy woman."

"I'm not crazy!"

The guard pulls his dick all the way out and then quickly thrusts it back in, impaling me. I try to scream, but the guard muffles it again by covering my mouth and jerking my head back by the hair. "I'm afraid you're not qualified to judge that," the guard replies darkly. "It takes a certified psychiatrist to determine sanity."

I try to reply, to tell him that he's wrong, that I'm perfectly able to judge my own sanity, but I can't. His hand is still over my mouth and I'm helpless to do anything about it. The guard laughs and thrusts into me again, sending unpleasant spasms all throughout my body.

I moan and writhe as his member skewers me over and over again, my breasts banging against the charity box. My rectum feels full and heavy, I need to go to the bathroom.

"Please stop!" I beg. "I need to use the facilities!"

"That's just the probe, ma'am, doing its job," grunts the guard, skewering me again with his penis. "And if you really were pregnant, I couldn't let you go take a shit! You could give birth right on the toilet and the baby could drown! You baby-murdering terrorist!"

Suddenly, I feel the sharp pain of another contraction, coursing through me, all-consuming. I try to scream, but am once again muffled by my captor. 

"You are a horny bitch, aren't you?" the guard says, plunging into me again and convulsing in orgasm, shooting a load of hot white cum into my tender little bottom.

"Oh, I think I feel something!" the guard moans, his now limp penis falling out of my rectum. "But my terrorist-stopping machine is malfunctioning! I need to call for backup!"

Now that I am free of his organ, I am absolutely certain of my need to defecate. I struggle with all my might to keep mother nature from taking its course on the storage room floor while the guard talks incomprehensibly on his radio.

"Oh please, oh please, I need to go to the bathroom!" I moan, clutching my sore rear.

"I can't let you do that, lady," says the guard sternly. "You're a terrorist suspect and I've just called for backup to complete your search."

"But there's nothing in my rectum except feces and semen! Oh please, if you have any mercy in your soul, let me go to the bathroom?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I already told you I couldn't. Now just sit tight and wait for backup to arrive. They will be here soon."

So I set myself down on the box of ugly clothing and try desperately to keep myself from defecating on the spot, waiting pathetically for more guards to arrive and rape me. What else can I do? The man watching me would surely not let me leave the room, and at any rate, I would not want to be seen running through the hospital naked. Despite myself, I feel my crotch becoming very damp. How long has it been since I've last had sex? Three months, or four? My husband has been reluctant to touch me since I began showing my condition.

A few minutes later, three other guards enter, and I find that I am relieved to see them. Finally, my torture may be coming to an end, but at this point, I can hardly expect that.

The guards are all overweight, and at least one of them is very old. They seem rather pleased to see me. One of them produces a video camera and a tripod out of a leather bag and begins setting it up.

"I hope you don't mind, ma'am, this examination must be videotaped for security purposes. Now, you know what to do. Bend over the box and spread your ass cheeks apart!" says the guard.

"Not again!" I groan, my rectum threatening to erupt.

"This guy here found something dangerous in your ass and we need to check what it is!" He grabs me and throws me across the box, my elbows scraping painfully across the edge of the cardboard, my bare bottom exposed to the camera. Moments later, I feel his member plunging into me, stretching me, ripping me, making my already full rectum feel as though it will explode. He plunges deeper, tearing into me, making me squeal in pain.

"Oh, please, no, I need to go to the bathroom! I need to give birth! I need to get into the emergency room and see a doctor! I DON'T NEED TO GET FUCKED IN THE ASS ANYMORE!!!"


The Horrible Hospital



"You have a dirty fucking mouth, bitch!" exclaims the guard. He pulls his member out of my bottom, but then I lose the last bit of control over my bowel, feeling a warm, sticky substance spreading down my legs. The smell is horrible.

"Oh, shit!" swears the guard. "But I've got a sample!"

He steps in front of me, thrusting his hard member into my face. It's completely covered in feces and cum and a little bit of my own blood.

"Now confess, you terrorist bitch, what is this dangerous toxin and what did you intend to do with it? Put it in the ventilation system? Dump it down the toilet and pollute the sewers?" He jabs his penis into my face, leaving a foul-smelling brown streak across my upper lip. "Confess, bitch! We'll be easier on you if you come clean!"

"It's not a toxin!" I snap. "It's stool! I told you I had to go to the bathroom!"

"Well, if it's not a toxin then maybe you should try some! Show us that it's not capable of causing mass destruction!"

He tries to jab his swollen member down my throat, but I refuse to part my lips. He leaves a trail of feces and cum across my chin, and jabs again and again, leaving my face completely covered with the foul-smelling mixture.

"Pry her mouth open!" he yells at the other guards. "We have to make sure the substance isn't really toxic!"

One of the other guards produces from his utility belt a ring-shaped object with leather straps. He pries my mouth open and forces it in, the ring leaving a convenient opening for his friend's mucky penis to enter. The device stretches my jaw open almost to the point of dislocation, and when the guard secures the straps, they cut painfully into the corners of my mouth. I try to protest, but can only make incomprehensible noise with the gag in place.

The guard plunges his filthy, putrid member into me, forcing it down my throat, almost causing me to choke. It tastes and smells so horrible that I can barely suppress the urge to throw up. The inside of my mouth is coated with the foul-smelling mixture, and I can feel some being smeared on the back of my throat. As the guy continues pleasuring himself in my throat, saliva begins to flood my mouth in reaction to this atrocity. It mixes with the brown, slimy substance and dribbles out of my mouth, down my chin and onto the ground.

"Ma'am, I must check if there is anything else dangerous concealed in your ass!" says another guard, the one who looks over seventy years old. My mouth occupied, I cannot protest, though of course I want to. I feel a humongous penis rubbing against the opening of my anus.

"My God, man!" exclaims the first guard. "So you did get the surgery!"

"You bet!" says the old guard, continuing to rub his gigantic member between my butt cheeks. "I got the biggest one they had! It's over a foot long!"

"What does your wife think of that beauty?"

"She loves it!" says the old man, beginning to thrust in and out slightly, my battered bottom recoiling in pain. "I got these special studs put in, supposed to pleasure the g-spot!"

I am in no hurry to become acquainted with those studs, but I have no choice. I don't suppose you can imagine the sensation of an object, over a foot long and two inches across, covered with all sorts of horrible piercings and studs, plunging its entire length into your anus, which is already sore and bleeding from being raped twice already. Let me just tell you, it's awful. To make the matter worse, my body chooses that very same moment to have a particularly painful contraction. I writhe in agony as the old man pumps his oversized organ in and out of my body. I feel as though I am going to die.

The guy in my mouth orgasms, spilling his semen down my throat. Some of it squirts down the wrong way, causing me to cough violently through the ring-shaped gag.

"Look guys, the toxin is taking effect! We need to give her a higher dosage to see exactly what it does!" exclaims the guard. He pulls on a glove and goes behind me, scooping a handful of feces off my leg. He puts it in front of my face, enjoying the look of terror in my eyes. The foul, brown stool fills his entire cupped hand. He jams it down through the ring gag and down my throat and yells at me to swallow, but I find I can't. There's too much in my mouth. I couldn't swallow if I wanted to, and I definitely don't want to. Desperately, I try to use my tongue to push it out of my mouth.

The guard pulls out his nightstick and jams it down my throat, forcing the feces in. I cough and spasm, but slowly, the foul mixture goes down my throat. I begin to vomit, but nothing comes out, since the nightstick is jammed firmly down my gullet.

"Oh, fucking shit!" a guard exclaims. "It's almost four o'clock! It's time for our break! The union will revoke our memberships If we work during our break!"

For a moment, I feel almost relieved, but my optimism is shattered by the sound of the old man's voice.

"Come, here, son," says the old man to the only guard who has not yet raped me. "You'd better take a turn with me if we're to make it to our break on time." To my utmost horror, I feel another penis rubbing against my anus alongside the old man's huge member. It slowly works its way into my bottom, making me feel more stretched and full than I ever thought imaginable. My anus rips and tears. I try to scream, tears welling up in my eyes. How could something like this happen to me? All I wanted was to see a doctor, to have someone help me deliver my baby so I could get out of here! 

The guard with the nightstick continues pounding it up and down my throat. The two penises raping my anus feel like hot pokers compared to the dull pain of the feces-covered nightstick. Oh, what I wouldn't give to be somewhere else, to be doing anything else! Surely nothing could be worse than this!

Finally, after what seems like an eternity of agony, the two guards rubbing against each other in my rectum come, shooting their hot loads into me. They extricate themselves with difficulty and zip up their flies. I hear an alarm beep on someone's watch, and the guard with the nightstick extracts his implement from the depths of my throat, a brown paste dripping out of my mouth. The guards, fumbling with their pants, walk out the door. One of them takes the camera, turns to me and says:

"We will be back in thirty minutes. If you're not here to continue the search, we'll have no choice but to widely publicize this video so that you can be apprehended." I collapse on the floor in a puddle of feces and cum. The guard shakes his head, laughing, and closes the door of the storage room. 

A second later, I hear the door open again. The guard walks over to me, a pair of handcuffs dangling in his right hand. "I wouldn't want to forget to cuff you," the guard says in a syrupy voice. "You are, after all, a dangerous terrorist." He pats me on the head affectionately and goes to stroke my sopping wet pussy. "We'll be back after my break, sweetheart, so just hang tight until then. There will be plenty of more hot action for you then." I try to shout at him through my gag, but it comes out all muffled and incomprehensible. "What, sweetheart? You want some more now?" I shake my head no frantically. "Well, you horny bitch, it's time for me to go on break, but I think I might just know a way to keep you satisfied." I shake my head again, but he doesn't pay attention. He knocks me forward onto the hard floor and spreads my butt cheeks wide. "I'm going to make sure you miss me while I'm gone, sweetheart." He slowly pulls his nightstick off of his belt and rubs it against my pussy. "You want it, don't you? You want be to fucked in your fat little pussy, don't you?" I try to yell, but I can't. "Yeah, well you're just going to have to keep on wanting it for a while," he says, jamming the nightstick all the way up my aching ass. "See you soon, sweetheart!" he says, closing the door behind him.

For a whole five minutes I find myself lying on the floor in terrible fear that the door will open again and someone else will do something awful to me. But after a while, I begin to relax. I find myself wondering if I should really be cooperating with the guards who have been raping me. On the one hand, I don't want that video gracing every sleazy site on the internet. What if my husband should see it while he's glancing through porn on his work computer? But on the other hand, is it really a good idea to sit in a dark storage room, waiting for a team of security guards to come off break so that they can enjoy raping me again? What evidence do I have that they won't release the movie, plus "Part Two: Pregnant Slut Eats Even More Shit," even if I cooperate? I start moving towards the door.

Inches from the door, I stop suddenly. How can I take the chance of becoming that kind of an Internet celebrity? Isn't it better to take the security guards at their word and have faith that they will just keep the video for their personal use? That sounds reasonable. It's one thing to rape a woman twice, but to release the footage after she's cooperated? No one could be that evil. I inch backwards towards the box and cross my legs tightly, waiting for the security guards to come back.

I feel my jaw ache and realize that the gag is still in my mouth. Do I dare remove it? The guards might be mad at me, and then who knows what they might do to me? But how can I sit here for another twenty-five minutes with that thing in my mouth? Could I even manage to remove it, with my hands cuffed behind my back? I try not to think about it, but now that my attention is drawn to the pain in my jaw, I can taste the excrement in my mouth and have to resist the urge to vomit. Despite all this, I manage to hold out for a couple minutes more, but the restraint is killing me. I walk about the room, searching for something that might allow me to free myself. Moving with the nightstick up my butt is excruciating, but finally I find a metal IV pole laying on the ground, that might just do the trick. I bend down slowly, feeling the nightstick wedge further and further up me. I moan through my gag. I slowly lower myself to the floor and grab the pole with my cuffed hands. I use it to fumble with the straps in the back of my head, frantically trying to tear them off. It's so much harder than clasping the bra behind my back was when I was a teenager.

Finally, a hook at the end of the pole manages to catch the clasp and yank it open. Once the gag is unfastened I'm able to shake it off my head quickly and onto the floor. I take a deep breath and then vomit all over the storage room floor. I pant a couple of times, trying to catch my breath, and end up puking two or three more times. Suddenly, with terror, I feel another sharp contraction coursing through me. In a haze of pain, I trip and fall face forward into a pile of regurgitated feces.

"Shit!" I exclaim, forcing myself slowly to my feet. My back is really aching now, and I think my contractions are becoming stronger and more frequent. I've got to get myself to the doctor, or I'll have no choice but to give birth right here and now.

I fumble through the box of ugly clothing, with my mouth pull out a particularly repulsive pair of humongous white cotton panties, throw them on the floor, and start wiping myself clean on them. I don't have any water to use or any hands to wipe with, so I have to make do with squirming on the rag on a clean piece of floor, but compared to what happened recently, I begin to feel almost reasonably hygienic. 

I rummage through the box again, this time for something to cover my naked body with. To my horror, I find that I have just used up the only available pair of underwear.

I find the most decent skirt I can, which is leather and looks like it will barely cover my butt and private parts, and desperately wiggle into it. The largest top I can find, which is black and nearly see-through, won't button over my pregnant belly (not that I have hands to button it anyway), so I have no choice but to let it hang loosely off my shoulders. At least it kind of manages to cover my breasts that way. 

In this cheap clothing, I still feel naked, so I pull on a pair of torn fishnet stockings with my teeth to complete the wretched ensemble.

Emboldened by the fact that, skimpy as they might be, I am actually wearing clothing, I walk to the door and try to open it with my mouth. Locked! Now I'm terrified. If the guards find me here, they will be angry at me for cleaning myself off, removing the gag and putting on clothing. My mind races with the images of what the guards would do to me.

Maybe it's not too late. If I start now, I might be able to take off my clothing, stuff the gag back in my mouth and smear some of the regurgitated stool all over myself. I just hope I didn't damage the clasp of the gag too much when I removed it. As I'm fumbling desperately with my skirt, trying to get it off, I notice an open ventilation shaft above a pile of boxes in the corner. With a little bit of stacking and rearranging, I might be able to crawl out the shaft to safety.

I fumble my way up the pile of boxes, scraping my knees in desperation. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to climb without hands! When I get to the top of the stack, I realize that I'm a couple inches too short, and though I can stick my head into the ventilation shaft, I don't have the hands to pull myself in. I'm going to have to jump for it.

I squat down slightly to give myself room to spring. Gathering the remaining strength in my legs, I push off, sending the pile of boxes crashing to the floor. My legs dangle down into the storage room. I hear the sound of the door unlocking and beginning to creak open. Squirming frantically, I manage to pull my legs into the shaft as the guards enter the room below.

"The bitch is gone!" one of the guards exclaims.

"She stole my nightstick!"

"Well, at least we've got the video!"

"Oh yeah, the video! I want copies of it spread all over the Internet! Make sure all her friends and relatives get a special copy! I want it piped through the television system!"

"We can arrange that," says the old guard. "We'll use the security computers."

For a moment I consider climbing out and begging the guards not to distribute this wretched thing. Nothing they would do to me could be worse than having my little sister see a man ramming excrement down my throat with his nightstick. But before I can reveal myself, another contraction overtakes me, and I remember why I came to this hospital in the first place. I need to find a doctor, and I need to find one now! There's no time for me to be thinking of petty things like porn videos. There is a baby in my womb that needs to be delivered. I begin to worm myself forward, inch by inch, in the near-darkness, towards a pale light in the distance, my belly and thighs pressed against the metal of the ventilation shaft. It feels cold against my bare skin.

The shaft begins to narrow to the point where I can hardly squeeze my pregnant belly through. My back is in agony from the exertion. I crawl a little further and find myself stuck. I cannot move either forward nor backwards. For a moment I think, "this is it! This is where my adventure ends." But the thought of having to deliver while stuck in the hospital ventilation system keeps me writhing for my freedom. With an immense effort and searing pain, I force myself forward, leaving behind some of the skin from my stomach and buttocks. Ignoring the burning scrapes, I press onward. The tunnel widens slightly, allowing me to inch forward at a more considerable rate. Slowly but surely, I crawl into the light.

In my desperation, I kick the ventilation grate open and fall out, landing in a heap on the floor in a room that appears to be a lounge of some sort. Behind me is a large white refrigerator, and in front of me a small table and a TV with a DVD player. I hop over to a water cooler in the corner and try to get some water. I have to push the lever with my chin and then lap the water up as it runs down the grate. Marvelous. Suddenly I hear the door open, and a man in a white lab coat enters the room.

"You're a doctor!" I gasp, barely able to believe my luck. The doctor looks at me appraisingly. I notice that his glance lingers on my nearly bare breasts and on the nightstick up my butt.

"Who are you?" he asks. I notice a bulge forming in his pants.

"Oh please, I'm going to deliver!"

"Oh, so you're a special delivery, are you?" the doctor asks. "The other guys must have decided to give me an extra special surprise for my last day at the hospital!"

"No, that's not what I mean!"

Another man in a lab coat walks in.

"Wow-we. Hot S&M prostitute," the man comments. "I didn't know you were into role-playing, Jim."

"I am not a prostitute!" I exclaim. "I'm a pregnant woman trying to deliver a baby!"

"You're not a prostitute?" says the doctor, in mock astonishment. "What are you doing in the doctors' lounge, then? This is a restricted area! I'm going to have to call security!"

"No, please, no!" I exclaim, horrified by the idea. "The security guards are evil! They locked me in a storage room, anally raped me, forced me to eat my own excrement and left me handcuffed and naked, with a nightstick up my rectum while they went on break! I had to crawl through the ventilation system to escape! Please don't give me back to them!"

"She's obviously mentally unstable," the first doctor declares, glancing meaningfully at his colleague. "We ought to call security and have them escort her to the psychiatric ward, where they'll tie her up and poke her with needles."

"No, no, haven't you been listening? Don't call security! Anything but them!" The doctors do not seem to be impressed by my pleas. One of them reaches for a red button next to the door. My crotch tenses. I can feel the moisture gathering between my legs, and the nightstick feels hard and immense in my rectum.

"Ok, ok, I am a prostitute!" I exclaim, trying to keep myself from panicking.

"Of course you are," says the doctor, shaking his head condescendingly and pinching my ass. "I had you figured from the start. You're the sort of whore who likes to play games with your clients. I have a thing for girls like that." He grabs the bulge in his pants suggestively.

"You are one sick bustard Jim, you know you are," the second doctor says, watching his friend play with himself though his pants.

"Are you the one who called the service?" Jim asks, stroking the crotch of his pants.

"No, my bet is it's the new intern," the other doctor answers, his eyes resting on my breasts and the bulge in his pants beginning to expand. "He called in sick today, probably doesn't want to take credit." He stares at his friend longingly. "You don't mind sharing her, do you Jim? I've been on for 36 hours straight, I could use a break."

"Come on David. You think I'd hog her all to myself after the fun we had with that child impersonator, when Jack retired? Damn that was hot. Call the gang, and we'll throw me a goodbye party you'll never forget!"

David the doctor grins broadly, walks over to the wall intercom and begins speaking into it indistinctly.

Jim grabs a hold of my head and pushes me to the ground. The nightstick jabs into my butt and I feel like screaming from the pain. The man in front of me pulls out his plump dick and rubs it along my face.

"Suck my cock," he commands me. 

"No," I reply firmly.

"Open your mouth now or I'll force it open!" the doctor barks, his eyes full of menace and desire.

"No!" I spit, but before I can close my mouth again, he thrusts his swollen member into me, grabbing my long hair and using it to push me into him.

"Suck it like you mean it," he moans, thrusting his hips to meet my pounding head. "Suck me, damn it, that's a good little whore." As I continue to suck him off, I hear the intercom squeak: "Dr. Richard Alcock to the doctors' lounge. Dr. Richard Alcock to the doctors' lounge!" Alcock? Really! Men have such a foul sense of humor. Jim the doctor smirks. "Dick Alcock! I always get a hoot out of that! Dr. Dick Alcock to the doctors' lounge. Dr. Dick Alcock!" He repeats in a mock announcer voice. He looks down at me, affectionately stroking my hair with one hand as he yanks it by the roots with the other. "Pretty soon every doctor with a dick between his legs is going to have a piece of you. Does that make you wet? Is that little cunt of yours drooling in anticipation?" 




The Horrible Hospital



I gasp and shudder on his cock, speaking rude remarks into his gummy flesh. He laughs and pushes me into him so that I nearly choke on his member. I feel another man's penis on my butt cheek and realize that David is rubbing himself hard on me. I gasp around the cock in my mouth. I hear the door open and the sound of men's footsteps.

"Oh Jim you've really got a juicy one this time," a male voice says, and I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder."

"You bet Bob, only the best for me," Jim replies, quickening the speed of my mouth on his member.

"Wow, take it easy there, Jim, you don't want to tire yourself too quickly," another voice says.

"Speak for yourself, old man," Jim replies, thrusting his hips into me. "I took a dose of the sample drug the Gamuron representative left after the March fertility meeting. It makes you screw like a horny college student. I could be at it all day."

"Gamuron? Isn't that the drug that's supposed to make you cum like a racehorse? I heard it's going to revolutionize the whole artificial insemination process." 

Jim smiles. "I'm planning on conducting a little study with the guys today," he replies, pulling a packet of pills out of his pants' pocket. 

Bob shakes his head in mock disbelief. "Man Jim, I knew you'd do anything for a promotion, but this is going a little overboard."

"A man needs a strong academic interest," Jim replies, pressing his hips into me. 

"That nightstick's really stuck up there," David says, pressing his swollen member against the piece of metal in my rectum. I feel a searing pain as he pushes his penis alongside it into my already stuffed little bottom, his hips thrusting into me, pushing the nightstick even further up my sore butt. It hurts so badly I scream.

"Feeling a little discomfort?" Jim asks, pounding in and out of me. "You might have a tear. I'm afraid it goes with your line of work. Remind me afterwards and I'll give you something to make it better." 

I gurgle my thanks into Jim's cock. Jim moans.

"They didn't send us a hooker with an STD, did they?" Bob asks nervously.

"Of course not!" Jim replies in a haughty voice. "They know better than to mess with the doctors from THIS hospital!"

I feel a tingling sensation in my nether region and begin to realize that Bob must be fingering my womanhood.

"You are a damp little slut, aren't you?" Bob says, his voice rough with desire. David plunges into me again and I whimper. Bob chuckles.

"You going to give me a turn soon Jim, or are you going to hog her all day?" he asks.

"What's your hurry?" Jim asks, frantically pounding his meat down my throat. "She's still got a perfectly good cunt that's not being used."

"And nice breasts, too," David adds, giving my nipples an affectionate little pinch that sends shivers though my body.

"Wow, we've really got a hot one this time!" another man says, opening the door. "And damn, that looks like fun! Too bad it took me so long to lose that testicular hemorrhage patient! You guys still have room for me?"

"But of course, John!" says Jim, thrusting hard into me again, causing me to gag. "Why don't you see if you can squeeze yourself in there somewhere!"

"I claim her pussy," says Bob, somehow managing to crawl under me and rubbing his swollen member along the puffy lips of my nether region, sending a shock throughout my body.

"You like that, don't you, you little slut?" Bob moans, plunging into my moist depths. My body tenses and convulses. Another contraction courses through me. I distinctly feel Bob and Jim rubbing their members against each other through the thin layer separating my two orifices.

"Damn, you really enjoyed that, you dirty whore!" Bob grunts. Jim tenses and moans, spilling his load down my throat. I swallow five or six loads, but it's like trying to drink out of a fire hydrant. The sperm begins dribbling down my chin onto the floor, where it pools. With a great grunt, Jim pulls his pulsing appendage from my well-used mouth, spraying a trail of semen upon my face and breasts.

"Watch where you're aiming that hose of yours!" exclaims Bob, squirming in an attempt to escape the spray of sperm.

"Wow, that Gamuron is sure impressive!" says David, continuing to pound in and out of my sore ass.

"There's more where that came from, baby!" exclaims Jim, taking his still hard hunk of meat in his hand and stroking it lovingly. "Now all of you can have big, beautiful and versatile cocks like me!" He hands the pills to the new guy, who eyes them suspiciously.

"Gamuron? Doesn't that cause testicular hemorrhage?"

"Oh, that's a rare complication, only from long-term use. Go on, take some, John!" 

"All right then, I'll try it once," says John, taking a pill from Jim.

"Hey don't be stingy! Pass 'em this way!" says Bob.

"Yes, please do," says David. Jim hands them each a pill, which they swallow before resuming pounding into my stretched orifices.

John takes Jim's place at my mouth and after a moment, Jim shrugs and joins him. The two members fill my mouth almost completely, to the point where they have no choice but to rub against each other as they stretch my cheeks.

Suddenly I feel a jet of hot semen shooting up my rectum. The nightstick becomes loose and falls out as sperm runs out of my butt and down my legs. David moans and writhes, pumping in and out of my stretched hole, my rectum feeling fuller and fuller as he continues ejaculating. With a cry he pulls out, shooting streams of hot semen onto my back and hair.

"See how fast-acting it is, Bob?" says Jim. "A regular miracle drug!"

"Hey, any drug that can get me this hard's gotta be a good thing!" David responds.

"You've said it, son," Bob comments, thrusting in and out of my pussy. 

"Shit, that's a lot of cum!" Jim laughs, pumping in and out of my mouth alongside John.

"Hell, I'm not done yet!" David exclaims, thrusting his engorged cock along with the soiled nightstick back into my well-used rectum.

Suddenly, the door flies open, and I hear what sounds like a disgruntled female voice begin yelling.

"I heard that bogus page over the intercom, what the hell are you up to this time Jim? You guys better not be breaking glass bottles with intimate parts of your anatomy, like the last time I found you!"

"Shit Jenny, just because you're the only female doctor in the ER doesn't give you permission to be a total bitch all the time! If I were less acquainted with that hot little body of yours, I'd think you were having your period 31 days a month."

"Oh, what is that?" Jenny asks, noticing me for the first time. "You guys aren't having one of those kinky goodbye parties again, are you? That transvestite really knew what he was doing!"

"You dumb bitch!" Bob exclaims, pumping his humungous tool in and out of my womanhood. "We didn't have a transvestite on purpose, that damn pharmaceutical company threw in a bogus incentive!"

"Whatever!" Jennifer says off-handedly. "John, Jim. Move over and let me have a turn riding that hot mouth of hers. There's a trauma, automobile vs. pedestrian, fifteen minutes out. One of our ambulances ran over a nun, and I'd like to get off a couple of times before the paramedics arrive."

"No way!" John cries pumping, "I haven't come yet! I'm not going anywhere!"

"Yeah, brilliant. You're not even equipped to handle a hot slut like this!" Bob adds in a rugged voice as he continues thrusting.

"You have pretty nice tits." David says graciously. "I might be persuaded to let you lick her asshole, if you'll strip for me."

"You're letting her off too easily!" Bob protests, moaning and squirting his hot semen into my most intimate region. "You're not getting any action, little woman, until you suck all of us off, including the little lady on the floor."

I moan my protest into the dicks in my mouth.

"But the trauma!" Jennifer exclaims. "It's not fair!"

"Sounds pretty fair from where I'm standing," Jim announces. "I never invited you to this little goodbye party of ours. If you want a piece of the action, you have to pay the entrance fee."

"Here, here!" John agrees. Bob pulls his sperm-covered member out of my pussy. If it ever went soft in the process of ejaculation, I never noticed it. I moan in relief as his tool leaves me.

"Come, you can start with me! Come on, have a nice cum cocktail on me!" He steps forward and grabs Jennifer's breasts from underneath her scrubs, ripping the top off in the process of violently squeezing her nipples.

"Shit, Bob! I needed that top!" Jennifer exclaims between moans.

"I don't think the patient will mind," Bob laughs.

"But she's a nun!" 

"All the better," Bob snickers, pulling her by the braid and forcing her to the ground. "Now suck me off woman, before I get angry!" He thrusts his member into her mouth. I see her breasts rocking back and forth from where I lie getting molested. What a way to prove your sanity! I can see what David meant though. Jennifer does have rather nice breasts. I almost want to suck them as they continue swaying back and forth. I blush and try to think of something else. The three male appendages riding me come to mind, and I try to dismiss that too. Only then do I remember that I'm supposed to be having a baby!

"Oh, my gosh!" I think to myself. "The baby is probably due any minute, and it's going to come into the world surrounded by men raping me! Think of the therapy bills my husband is going to have to pay to counteract the damage this will cause the baby!"

"My dick in your mouth not enough to satisfy you, little slut?" Jim asks in a rugged voice. "You aren't sucking hard enough! Either concentrate on pleasuring me or I'll have no choice but to pleasure myself in that tight little ass of yours."

"I'm all for that!" John exclaims. "More mouth for me!"

"Shut up you guys. You bicker like little girls. Can't you let a man get sucked off in peace?" Bob complains.

"Sorry, buddy," John replies, quickening his trusts in and out of my mouth. "Got carried away." Bob groans and pounds his member in and out of Jennifer's mouth. Her cheeks swell and I begin to see semen leaking out of the sides of her mouth and then dribbling down her chin and unto her torn blouse. 

"Shit, Jenny, don't you know how to swallow?" Bob laughs as he pulls his still hard dick from her mouth. "I ought to make you do me all over again until you do it right."

"Stop being a prick, Bob!" David exclaims, pulling his member out of my butt. "After all, it's my turn now. I've got to get my cock into that lovely ass of hers," he says, pumping his immense appendage with his fist. 

"Shit, boy, if it's her ass that you're after, you might as well share with me."

"No," Jim says. "You've gotta play it by the rules. One time each, fellows, and then the whore licks her pussy for her! I'll keep the entertainment company while you and David take your turn with Jenny. Bob, why don't you take the hooker's ass for a while?"

"Aye, aye sir!" Bob says with a mock salute, grabbing his cum covered cock and marching over to my backside. "Shit, she's got a lot of cum up her ass!"

"That's the effect of the Gamuron, Bob," Jim says happily. "It increases sperm production up to 1000%."

"Darn, that can't be all sperm in there! I think I'm going to have to take a taste to make sure."

"Whatever floats your boat," Jim replies. I feel a tongue up my butt and hear Jennifer cry out as David thrusts his enormous dick up her butt without lubricant. A moment later, the cries are muffled as John slides his hard member in her mouth and begins pumping. Suddenly, with a piercing pain, I realize that Bob's humungous penis is pushing its way into my rectum. I try to cry out, but the sound is muffled by Jim's cock in my mouth. Jim comes explosively, pushing me backwards onto Bob's penis. Bob grunts happily as he impales me.

David comes next inside of Jennifer's anus and his white excretions land all over her green scrubs, completely soiling them.

"Well, those are going to have to come off," Jim says, pulling his still hard appendage from my mouth. He yanks Jennifer's pants off so that she's crouched on the floor naked. I notice in shock that she isn't wearing any undergarments.
"You like watching her get fucked," Bob moans in my ear. "You want me to pound in and out of your ass while you watch." I can't respond. Even now, when my mouth is finally free of men trying to take advantage of it, I can't find a way to express my feelings. I whimper and Bob grabs my breasts and continues to ride me hard.

David, who seems considerate enough not to thrust himself into my mouth or pussy after being in two women's anuses, begins rubbing himself on my shoulder blades as Bob continues to manhandle me.

Jim pushes his way into Jennifer's private parts, she hardly resist, which surprises me. I'd expect a woman like that to be a little more forceful. It's almost as though she's used to be treated like a common slut. She moans and writhes pathetically. 

Jim quickly pulls out and sprays her face with his semen. There is so much of it that she has to wipe it away from her eyes to see.

"Shit, Jim!" John exclaims. "You almost came on me."

"Sorry! I didn't know it would spray so much." Jim apologizes.

"Just don't do it again!" John moans.

"It's my goodbye party we are having here. Stop whining."

"Yeah. Come already, or Jenny's not going to have enough time to get off before her trauma," Bob grunts in my butt.

"Haven't you guys heard of performance anxiety? How am I supposed to come when all you guys are waiting for me?" John complains.

"You know the rules, John. Jenny gives all of us one orgasm each and then the whore eats her pussy for her," Jim says, groping Jennifer's butt. "Unless you're man enough to let Jenny suck you off, she's not going to get any action. You don't want to be the one who denies Jenny her pleasure, do you?"

"Come on Jim. You're making me nervous." John whines.

"Oh, suck it up and come like a man!" Jim barks.

John's limp cock falls out of Jenny's mouth and he begins pumping it with his fist to get it back up.

"I knew John wasn't man enough to join the party!" Bob grunts, adding his semen to my already full anus. "How about we watch the whore eat some pussy already! We shouldn't have to wait on account of that boy! I bet he hasn't even gone through puberty."

"But the rules!" Jim exclaims.

"To hell with the rules, Jim! This is your goodbye party and we want to have a good time," Bob replies, rubbing the head of his cock on the entrance to my anus.

"Yeah, come on!" David calls from on top of me. "I want to see some hot lesbian action before the attending realizes that I'm gone!" John ejaculates on the floor in front of Jenny.

"Well, I guess that settles it," Jim laughs. "Come on woman, why don't you give our dear little Jenny a treat?"

"Oh please!" Jennifer cries out. "I'm so horny! I need to come before they page me!"

"But I've never touched another woman's privates before!" I say indignantly.

"You haven't? What sort of hooker are you?" Bob asks. I look embarrassed, my face covered with cum.

"Shit, Jim! The agency set us a defective whore. We should call them, maybe if we send her back now we can get a replacement before you go off duty tonight."

"I'll lick your pussy for you," David says, licking his lips.

"Oh yes, please, just someone lick my pussy for me!" Jennifer cries. David starts walking over to Jennifer, who opens her legs willingly for him. Jim grabs him by the shoulder to hold him back.

"Jennifer's one of us now. She deserves to have her turn with the whore too," Jim says reasonably.

I don't know what to do. If I don't pleasure Jennifer, then the doctors will find out that I'm not really a prostitute and they'll send me to the psycho ward. I don't want to have my baby around crazy people! Think of the developmental damage that would cause!

I force my eyes to focus on Jennifer. I will my attention painfully down her body and between her legs. I see her privates glistening with juices. It looks so beautiful, and I find myself strangely desperate to take a taste.

"Gosh, you guys, can't I mess with you at all?" I say to the doctors with a laugh. It's almost too easy. "You'd think you guys have never role-played before. Don't you know, 'I've never licked a pussy' is the oldest line in the book! Sure, call the agency if you like, but you're all going to look like fools."

"God, Bob, why did you have to overreact, like you always do?"

"I never overreact!" Bob retorts.

"My pussy! My pussy!" Jennifer moans. She's leaving a small puddle of juice on the floor of the lounge. 

"I want to see the whore suck pussy!" John says, stroking his penis wildly.

"Oh please! Oh please!" Jennifer exclaims moving her own hand over to her genitals in an attempt to give herself a little pleasure.

"What are you waiting for, wench!" Bob exclaims, slapping my butt and in the process pushing me over towards Jennifer.

"Lick! Lick! Lick! Lick!" The male doctors chant in rhythm, as I slowly bend over and my tongue reaches out to touch the wet velvety flesh of Jennifer's pussy. It tastes a little sour, but good, like when I used to lick my husband's penis clean after sex. It brings back old memories of consensual sex, from before my husband's ambition and my pregnancy had gotten in the way of my sex life. The memory makes me damp between the legs and the nightstick shoots explosively from my anus and lands on the floor a foot away.

"Damn that's a hot trick!" Bob exclaims, staring at the nightstick and stroking his penis. 

My tongue touches Jennifer's clitoris and she begins to writhe. I find that I like the feeling. It makes me feel powerful. 

"Lick faster, darn it!" John whines, pumping his dick frantically. "You're supposed to be getting her off, not giving her a gynecological exam with your tongue!"

"Put some jaw in it!" Jim adds pleasuring himself with his hands. "Give us a real show!" David whimpers. Bob doesn't say anything, but a moment later I feel a penis in my anus and turn my head slightly to see him plunge himself into my butt, which is a lot more open now that the nightstick has been dislodged. I moan and writhe and press my cheek into Jennifer's privates. Jennifer cries out happily and I begin licking her clit again. My face and body is completely covered in semen, and I can't help getting some on Jennifer as I pleasure her.

I feel something warm on my back and realize that one the male doctors has ejaculated on my back. It actually feels pretty good. I keep licking. Another hot flash as yet another penis spills its load on my back. God, I feel like a total slut!

"Oh please keep sucking, please! Oh, please!" Jennifer squeals. I follow her request, and in a moment her body begins to tense and rock in what must be an incredibly intense orgasm.

I notice the intensity of her orgasm with both pride and shame. It's my first lesbian experience.

"Hey Jenny! That was some orgasm, wasn't it?" Bob exclaims open-mouthed. "Shit girl, you almost made ME come!"

"Hey, why don't you return the favor?" Jim says, manhandling himself.

"Yeah! You owe her one for that orgasm!" Bob adds, smiling brightly.

"I do not!" Jennifer replies crossly. "I earned my orgasm through hard work. If I have to get the whore off, so do all of you!"

"I'm up for that," David says, playing with his penis suggestively.

"Hell yes!" Bob exclaims "A round for the hooker!"

"But who ought to start?" John asks. His cock, too, is very hard.

"Jenny first, then David. They're the ones with the least time left to spare," Jim says sensibly.

"Fine," says Jennifer, a little cross. "I'll go first just so long as it isn't just me this time. Remember when you had me deep-throat a banana so I'd be more sympathetic when intubating a patient, and then you all just snickered and went off into the men's changing room to masturbate?"




The Horrible Hospital



"We just want to make sure everyone has their fair turn, that's all," Jim says with a shrug.

"Ok, as long as it's fair," Jennifer replies, bending down to lick my pussy as Jim and John pull my legs apart to accommodate her.

"No!" I whine. "I don't want to! This isn't what you're paying me for!" But it is too late. I feel something warm and wet snake between my legs and gasp. Bob snickers. I hear the odd sound of hands rubbing hard against tender flesh. And the feel more hot semen in my hair. I moan and writhe as Jennifer's tongue impales me. Unfortunately, my body chooses just that moment to have yet another contraction. Darn it, I'm really going to have my baby right here. 

"Um. There's something you guys ought to know," Jennifer says weakly her face covered with my juices and Bob's semen. "This woman's cervix is dilated. She's going to deliver, and soon."

"No, you must be imagining it," Bob protests. "I was in that pussy no more than ten minutes ago, and I must have bumped against her cervix at least a couple hundred times. It felt completely normal to me."

"But you've taken Gamuron, haven't you? Look at you! Your penis is at least twice the size it's supposed to be, do you really think that you are fit to assess anything with that engorged cock of yours?"

"I'm willing to assess anything with this immense tool of mine," Bob says, slapping her butt affectionately.

"Maybe she has a point," David says bravely. "She does look rather pregnant to me."

"She's an S&M prostitute specially customized for men with a pregnancy fetish. They probably gave her a humongous enema back at the agency to make her appear bloated."

"But wouldn't it be safer just to check, just in case?" John suggests.

"I'll do it," David says. "Anyone have gloves?" 

"Oh, stop being so prissy, David!" Bob laughes. "You were up that whore's butt without a condom less than 20 minutes ago, and now you want gloves to feel around in her pussy?" 

"But what if she's got AIDS? It's standard procedure to wear gloves in body cavities. I'm not being prissy! I'm following hospital protocol," David replies with irritation.

"Call it what you like, you are the prima donna of prissiness," Bob laughs.

"The agency wouldn't send us a prostitute with AIDS, would they?" John asks skeptically. "They know how picky we are."

"I'd say, giving birth at work is pretty defective," Jim says shaking his head.

"I'm not prissy!" David yells, but everyone ignores him.

"Is she about to deliver or not?" Jim asks.

"Maybe she wasn't sent by the agency. Maybe she's an addict looking for a quick fix," John suggests. "Has anyone considered calling security?"

"I did when I first saw her," Jim says. "But she was such a convincing prostitute I couldn't believe that the agency didn't send her."

"Understandable," Bob grunts. "She makes such a good little whore."

"Run and get me some supplies!" David yells. 

"Shit! They're paging me. The trauma must have come in!" Jennifer says in a hurried voice. "I'll see if I can send someone in to help!"

"That won't be necessary," John says off-handedly. "She's not going to give birth."

"Are you sure?" Jennifer asks.

"Please help me!" I whine. Jennifer stamps away without looking back.

"She's faking it!" John exclaims, surprisingly hard again. 

"I think I concur," Jim says, eyeing me strangely. "She's play acting, trying to get us to play doctor. Personally, I think it's in bad taste."

"I think it's kind of hot," John says, stroking himself while he talks.

"Me too," grunts Bob. 

"Ok. But I'm still going to do the examination just to make sure. SOMEONE GET ME SOME GLOVES PLEASE!!!"

"Oh for God's sake man, just shove your hands up the woman," Bob laughs.

"Is someone going to get me gloves or am I going to have to go to the supply cabinet and get some myself?"

"Get the stuff yourself" Jim says, pumping himself crazily. "I'm having too much fun watching."

"Shit!" David says and rushes out of the room.

"Who votes we lock him out?" Bob asks. All three men raise their hands and Jim blocks the door with a sofa. 

"Please, I need to be examined!" I yell.

"We'll examine you in good time," Bob says with a grin.

"I haven't had this much fun since college," John says.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," Jim says. "We can't stay off duty forever."

"Shut up and turn on the TV," Bob grunts. John grabs the remote and flicks it on. The moment the sound comes on, he explodes, spilling his load on the floor.

"Wow!" Bob exclaims, drawing his hard penis back out of his pants and playing with it. "This is some crazy shit."

I'm almost too scared to look. Those male grunts and semi-muffled female moans sound all too familiar.

"Hey, I know the guys attached to those cocks!" John exclaims. "Those are the fellows at security. Man do they know how to party!"

"Hey!!! That's our prostitute that they using!" Jim yells at the screen! "They stole our whore!! "

"Damn, that's hot though," Bob says, manhandling his cock.

"I knew they would try to ruin my last day party after that prank I pulled on them on April Fool's Day."

"You mean when you bribed a group of cheerleaders to run around the hospital naked? That was funny," Bob laughs, still pleasuring himself.

"Yeah, well turns out they were all high-schoolers. One guard was foolish enough to sleep with one. Got slapped with a rape charge, the unlucky bastard."

"I hate those guys at security. They think that just because we've got medical degrees it makes us less manly. Don't they realize how much balls it takes to make it through your residency?

"Nah. Most of them don't even have what it takes to get through high school," Bob grunts, without taking his eyes off the television. "Jesus. This is good stuff. I need to get a copy for my private collection."

I force myself to look up at the television. I see a guard with a sadistic smile shoving my own stool into my mouth while two more guards rape me from behind. Seeing myself like that on television is somehow almost more disturbing than the actual experience. Watching my naked body moan and twitch while they rape me, seeing my own skin right in front of me, so soft and touchable on the screen. It makes me feel dizzy. I continue watching and the world starts spinning. I see the muscles in my neck twitch almost obscenely as I swallow, see my own swollen breasts jiggle as I continue to be ridden. And then there is nothing.

I awake to the feeling of a contraction coursing through me. I must have passed out from stress. Oh my God!!! I want to push. I try to move my arm, and realize that my arms are strapped to a bed. My legs are free, but only for a moment.

"Oh, so you're finally awake," an oddly happy voice says in my ear. I look up and see a strange, unkempt man looking down at me. He quickly pushes my legs up over my head and begins to tie them to the head of the bed, so that I am crumpled in half, my butt sticking out obscenely.

"Welcome to the psycho ward," says the man. "I'm Marquis de Sade, and my colleague in the chair, reading Vivisection for Dummies, is Dr. Lemony Snickett."

"Very fine day," says Dr. Snickett.

"You're crazy!" I gasp, pulling at the restraints that tie me to the bed.

"Exactly," says the Marquis. "As are you. 'Self-destructive tendency towards sadistic or masochistic behavior,' and that is how we find ourselves here on the third floor of the psychiatric ward, behind these glass walls. I'm told the charge nurse found you covered in cum down in the medical lounge and called psych. That will teach you for being caught."

"We were gynecological residents who went crazy from sleep deprivation." the man in the chair offer's friendlily. "Though in fact our imprisonment is the result of a conspiracy involving a commonplace notebook, a sugar bowl and a very large pencil."

"Gynecologists?! Please, you've got to help me! I'm going to deliver this baby any moment now!"

"Our medical licenses have been suspended until we make a recovery, but we will do what we can," says the Marquis. " Lemony, get your head out of that book and hand me the vagina filling device." He puts his hand out expectantly, waiting for his partner to provide him with the tool.

"What are we going to do?" I ask, a little nervously.

"Well, we're going to insert a large dildo, about ten inches in circumference and two feet long, to see how dilated you are."

"Is that really necessary?" I ask "It sounds like it could hurt."

"Necessary?! No, of course not, but it should be a lot of fun."

"Well, at least you're honest," I say, pushing through my latest contraction. "I've been raped by security guards and forced to eat my own shit to prove that it wasn't toxic. I had to play prostitute for a group of horny pill-pushing doctors, and still I ended up here! With crazy people! There really is no justice."

"You'll find us crazy people are quite honest," the Marquis laughes. "We have very little reputation to lie for." Dr. Snickett, who has been searching through what looks like an old-fashioned black medical bag for the last several minutes, pulls out an immense dildo, the size of a large forearm, and hands it to the Marquis. "Are you ready? Here it comes, if you relax a little as the dildo enters, you will find it a lot less unpleasant."

"How the hell am I supposed to relax when I'm bound to a bed in a psychiatric ward and there's a baby trying to push its way out of me?!"

"Listen, if I can squeeze this dildo all the way up into your vagina, it means that you're fully dilated and we need to call obstetrics right away, so your cooperation in the matter would be greatly appreciated."

"But you said the dildo wasn't necessary!" 

"It isn't. It's a little more interesting than simply putting one of my hands up you. As you can probably tell, they don't keep as very clean here. It's all part of the recent budget cutbacks."

"Gotcha," I say, trying to adjust my position to better accommodate the enormous dildo.

"You know, we could just count the time between her contractions. Two minutes apart, and we call obstetrics," says Dr. Snickett.

"But this won't even take two minutes!" the Marquis laughs, slowly easing the enormous tool up me. "And it's just so gosh darn fun this way." He smiles. I blush, moaning softly as the dildo stretches me. I feel really full down there, but compared to everything else I've been through today, it feels almost good.

"Oh, looks like she's not quite dilated yet," the Marquis announces. "I guess we have a little time first. I think we'll start with an enema to help with your anal injury."

"Enema? That's when you stick fluid up my butt? How is that supposed to help me?"

"Well, we'll use an oily liquid that will soothe the tender membrane. A couple of gallons should do. For starters! Lemony, prep for voluminous fluid delivery!"

"Roger!" Dr. Snickett says grabbing a bucket of grease. "We've been saving this from our food rations. Fortunately for you, they give us very fatty dinners around here, so we still have enough. The last woman who they sent to us needed to gain weight so we ended up force feeding her through a jerry-rigged feeding tube."

"You force-fed her fat?" I ask, slightly appalled.

"Yes. And a couple of gallons of cum we stole from the fertility clinic, and a whole bunch of Gamuron. We've been experimenting on its effects on the female body!" The Marquis announces happily. "It works like Spanish fly in large amounts. That anorexic cancer patient got so wet, they had to use traction gloves to take her to her treatment sessions and put her in a chastity belt to keep her from masturbating all the time."

"But you aren't going to use Gamuron on me, are you? I mean I've heard it causes hemorrhage," I say, a little scared.

"Oh, don't worry, that's only in men. Women are completely immune, so you can use as high a dose on female patients as you like, assuming they don't die of horniness," he explains with a sinister smile.

"Have you mixed the crushed Gamuron capsules into the hamburger grease?" he asks his assistant.

"Yes, I've used the whole bottle," Dr. Snickett replies.

"Well, throw in another bottle for good measure. It acts like an anesthetic in high doses."

"It's really a versatile, fascinating drug," says Dr. Snickett, continuing to crush pills and dump the powder into the bucket. "Just wait until we publish our clinical studies!"

"They let you publish clinical studies from the psycho ward?!" I ask, flabbergasted.

"Of course they do. We are a major source of research grants for the hospital," the Marquis says, calmly shoving a large rubber hose into my rectum. I moan and writhe, but the hose fits in nicely. "Now we start pumping!" The Marquis calls to Dr. Snickett.

I feel something slimy shoot up me. It feels both soothing and horrible at once. Then I begin to feel a pleasantly hot sensation in my lower body. And my head begins to feel as though it's on fire.

"I see the Gamuron has kicked in," The Marquis says nearly jumping for joy. "Just look at that beautiful vulva flooding with juices, I've never seen anyone react so strongly to the drug, so quickly. Lemony, this is going to be a medical breakthrough!"

"Oh, oh!" I exclaim as Dr. Snickett continues pumping grease up my butt. "I feel so strange! It's too much fluid! Don't pump anymore! I'll explode!"

"Oh. Right. We need to adjust the dosage per rectum to compensate for the gestational bloating."

"I think she can hold the rest of it," Dr. Snickett says, assaying the practically empty bucket carefully. "The last woman held five gallons. This one ought to be good for at least three." 

"Ok, continue pumping then," the Marquis orders, staring at my butt with a mixture of perverse fascination and medical detachment. "I'm going to check the vagina filling device again while we wait," he says, thrusting the humungous dildo in and out of my most sensitive orifice as I continue to swell with grease and aphrodisiac. 

"I notice that you have already had some experience with Gamuron, judging by the copious amounts of cum in your hair, on your face and in all of your orifices. I've found that a small amount of urea and other key ingredients can be affective in neutralizing some of the affects of cum on a woman's sensitive skin. Would you like us to treat your cum rashes while we wait for your cervix to dilate? We still have a couple of inches left before we can convince OB to take you, we might as well treat your secondary concerns."

"And you won't need to stick anything more up my butt?" I ask, trying to push through the terrible haze of horniness that is making thinking nearly impossible. 

"Of course not! We've already treated your anal injury," the Marquis says, pulling the tube out of my butt and replacing it with a champagne cork. "We are going to push your bed upright, pee on you and then flog you with a large stick. Believe me, it will not be unpleasant and it will help your mind clear a little, I think."

"Well as long as you promise not to stick anything else in my butt," I say, the thought of warm pee on my skin sounding refreshing to my Gamuron-addled brain.

"You've heard her," the Marquis calls to his partner, and together they push my bed to a standing position.

"Whee!" I exclaim, hanging from the bed by my ankles and hands, and obviously high off the Gamuron. "It's just like a roller coaster!"

"On the count of three, go for it!" The Marquis says to Dr. Snickett, and together they unleash their dirty genitals. "Ok. One, two, three!" Both penises erupt, squirting hot urine onto my hair, face and body. I open my mouth slightly to taste it.

"Wow. I've never seen a woman behave like that on Gamuron! It's too bad we aren't allowed video equipment, I would like to document this for further study!"

"I've got the flogger!" Dr. Snickett announces, pulling a long wooden paddle out of his black medical bag. "Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?"

"Let me!" The Marquis says. "I'm always up for a little S&M."

"Fine," Dr. Snickett says, a little disappointed, as he hands his partner the paddle. "I suppose I'll stand by the buzzer, just in case."

"Good idea," the Marquis says, his eyes full of fiery passion. He quickly begins to flog me with the paddle. Not too hard, just enough to leave slight red spots on my skin that quickly disappear as he continues. I gasp. My whole body so sensitive to every little feeling. Every inch of skin has become erogenous. I moan as something, either an orgasm or a contraction, I can't tell which, sweeps over me.

"Very good specimen indeed," the Marquis says in a rugged voice, his penis very hard. "I think the enema has had its affect already. We can now remove the cork." He pulls the little piece of porous wood out of my rectum, and at once, gallons of grease begin to spill out, rushing down my body and completely soiling the bed sheets as it trickles to the floor.

"Magical how quickly the body expels foreign objects," the Marquis says, dreamily playing with his cock. "Ok. I think it's time to check your dilation again."

He begins frantically maneuvering the dildo in and out of me. It feels really, really good and I cry out in pleasure.

"Get ready to hit the button. It looks like it's going all the way in," the Marquis announces over his shoulder. I hear the buzzing crackle of the intercom and then a strained female voice on the other end.

"What is it this time, Lemony?" she asks with mock concern.

"Beatrice, the nice lady you sent us is about to have a baby. She's fully dilated and her contractions are very frequent. We haven't measured them exactly but I'd guess

maybe five minutes."

"Are you sure, Lemony? You two haven't been using that obscene tool of yours to pretend to be gynecologists again, have you? The last ten women we put in that room with you all decided to give birth." 

"Well yes, pregnant women have a way of doing that if you keep them locked up long enough," Mr. Snickett replies off-handedly. But it's this woman we are discussing now, and if you don't want the Marquis and I to deliver her baby you should send someone from OB to see her now. Think of the lawsuit on your hands if this woman delivers in the psychiatric ward!"

"Ok, I'll be there myself in ten minutes," Beatrice replies.

"Make it sooner if you can," Mr. Snickett adds. "She looks like she's in a lot of pain." I wish I didn't hear that last bit, because the moment he says it, I realize it's true. I am in a lot of pain. It hurts so badly I can't stand it. I want this damn baby out of me already. Why isn't it out already? After everything I've been through, you'd think I'd earned a pain-free delivery. The Marquis rubs my forehead soothingly with his filthy hand. I yell at him to take it away and he only laughs. 

"Women in labor always get a bit snippy. I'm glad to see you are no exception." He smiles broadly. A moment later, a nurse who must be Beatrice rushes into the room, restores the bed to horizontal position, and wheels me out of the room, nodding politely to the Marquis.

"When is your due date?" she asks me as she pushes me down the hall, past a line of staring patients.

"A week from Tuesday, but what does that matter? I'm going into labor now."

"Your water is still intact and you're delivering early. That qualifies you for a study on the effects of stopping advanced labor. As you probably know, if you have been keeping up with the news recently, a new research shows that children who are born a few days early are more susceptible to early peer pressure and thus more likely to smoke pot and end up in gangs. If you participate in this study, your child will have a better chance at growing up to be a healthy individual. The average life expectancy of gang members is 19 years," Beatrice says as we wait for the elevator.




The Horrible Hospital



"Pardon my French, but that is a load of bull. You know nothing about my husband or my parenting, and you think you are qualified to tell me my son's going to become a gang member! That's complete and utter nonsense. A study can't show something like that. You're asserting improper conclusions from your data! I want the name and publisher of this article and a qualified doctor to help me read through it in an intelligent matter before I sign any sort of a consent!"

"Unfortunately there is no time. The procedure needs to be performed immediately to avoid unpleasant side effects, such as stillbirth and uncontrollable vaginal bleeding. And I understand that you are in a delicate emotional state after your trip to the psychiatric ward. That's why I took the liberty of having your husband sign the consent form on your behalf."

"He did not!" I exclaim, pushing against my restraints. "He has no right!"

"I'm afraid he has every right. The doctors have convinced him that it is really in the best interest of the baby that we stop labor now and keep you under observation until your projected due date. We also arranged to give you intravenous Gamuron for your entire stay, part of Dr. de Sade's study on its effects on pregnancy. In addition, I'm afraid that your psychiatrist believes that you are a danger to your child before it is born. So, we are going to have several security guards posted in your room at all times, and have them videotape everything that goes on. That way everyone will be safe."

"Except me!" I protest. But it is too late. As I'm pushed into the treatment room, a doctor sedates me and begins shaving my crotch to prepare for the procedure that will prolong my pregnancy. As the whole world darkens around me once more I can't help thinking, "God, this is one horrible hospital!"

The End