Page 32 of Her Alien Guardian

Tessara

A chime sounded, from the direction of the door to the hallway. Gamma looked down at his handheld.

“There’s the doctor,” he said, looking back up at me. “Why don’t you have a seat on the bed, and I’ll bring him in here.”

My heart raced as I perched on the edge of the bed, the sheets soft against my bare skin. I tried to steady my breathing, but anticipation and nerves had my pulse fluttering like a caged bird. The door slid open with a soft hiss, and Gamma entered, followed by an older man in a crisp white coat.

The doctor was tall and slender, with neatly styled silver hair and sharp gray eyes behind wire-rimmed spectacles. He carried a black leather bag that looked so old that I wondered if it had come from old Earth. His gaze swept over me clinically, assessing rather than leering, but I still felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“Hmm,” the doctor tutted, glancing around the room with a slight frown. “This won’t do at all. No proper exam table, no stirrups. How am I expected to conduct a thorough examination under these conditions?”

Gamma’s deep voice rumbled through the room. “My apologies, Doctor Ashcroft. We’ll have to make do with what we have. Perhaps I can assist?”

Dr. Ashcroft nodded curtly. “Yes, that will have to suffice. Please hold the patient’s knees open and back. I need full access.”

My cheeks burned as Gamma approached, his massive blue hands gentle but firm as he grasped my legs. With careful strength, he pushed my knees apart and back toward my chest, exposing my most intimate areas to the doctor’s clinical gaze. I squeezed my eyes shut, overwhelmed by the vulnerability of my position.

“Eyes open, please,” Dr. Ashcroft instructed, his tone leaving no room for disagreement. “I need to assess your reactions.”

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, fixing my gaze on the slightly glowing ceiling above. The doctor’s fingertips probed at my breasts, circling my nipples with practiced precision. Despite my embarrassment, I felt them harden under his touch, a familiar warmth beginning to pool low in my belly.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. Ashcroft glance at a sleek handheld device. Its holographic display flickered with streams of data, including a pulsing graph that seemed to spike with each touch. With a start, I realized it was measuring my arousal, quantifying my body’s shameful response to this clinical examination.

“Responsive,” the doctor murmured, making a note on his device. “Very good. Now, let’s proceed with the internal examination.”

Dr. Ashcroft reached into his leather bag, extracting a gleaming metal instrument that made my breath catch in my throat. The speculum’s polished surface reflected the soft ambient light of the room, its curved shape both elegant and intimidating.

“Now, Tessara,” the doctor said, his tone clinical yet not unkind, “this next part of the examination may be somewhat uncomfortable. Try to relax as much as you can.”

I nodded mutely, my eyes fixed on the ceiling as I felt the chilly metal of the speculum press against my entrance. Despite the doctor’s warning, I was unprepared for the sensation of the instrument sliding inside me. I gasped softly, my body tensing involuntarily at the intrusion.

“Deep breaths,” Gamma murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on my inner thighs where he held my legs open. The gentle touch, combined with his reassuring voice, helped me relax slightly.

I heard a soft click, and then felt an intense pressure as the speculum’s beak opened within me. The stretch was uncomfortable, bordering on painful, and I couldn’t suppress a whimper.

“Interesting,” Dr. Ashcroft commented, his eyes focused intently on his examination. “The patient shows signs of extensive sexual activity. The vaginal walls are well stretched and there’s noticeable elasticity.”

My face burned with shame at his words, the clinical description of my body making me want to sink into the bed and disappear.I squeezed my eyes shut again, unable to bear the thought of meeting Gamma’s gaze.

“Yes,” Gamma’s deep voice rumbled above me. “Tessara served as a concubine aboard a Vionian warship before her rescue.”

I felt fresh heat flood my cheeks at Gamma’s explanation, mortified that he was discussing my past so openly. The shame of my time on theConqueror of Breslawashed over me anew, memories of countless degradations at the hands of the Vionian crew flashing through my mind.

“Ah, I see,” the doctor replied, his tone neutral. “That explains the physical signs. Well, at least we know she’s capable of accommodating significant girth. That should serve her well in her new role as your concubine.”

His matter-of-fact assessment of my sexual capabilities sent a fresh wave of embarrassment through me. Yet beneath the shame, I felt a flicker of something else—a perverse pride at the thought that my body might please Gamma, that I might be able to take all of him despite his imposing size.

As the examination continued, I found myself torn between mortification at my exposure and a growing, shameful arousal. Each touch, each probing finger or instrument, seemed to awaken nerve endings I didn’t know I possessed. My breath came in short, shallow gasps, and I could feel a telltale wetness gathering between my thighs that had nothing to do with the examination itself.

I felt the cold metal of the speculum shift. My eyes flew open in shock as I realized he was now positioning it at the entrance to my bottom. I squirmed uncomfortably, but Gamma’s firmgrip on my thighs held me open and available for the doctor’s humiliating ministrations.

“Now then,” Dr. Ashcroft said, his clinical tone unchanged despite the intimate nature of his actions, “I need to assess the condition of your anal cavity. This information is crucial for determining your suitability as a Prosperian concubine—or, I suppose, even as a Prosperian wife.”

I felt the pressure of the speculum against my most private opening, and then a stretching sensation as it slowly entered me. I bit my lip, trying to stifle a whimper at the strange, invasive feeling.

“Hmm,” the doctor murmured, peering intently at whatever the speculum revealed. “There’s evidence of regular penetration here as well. Tell me, Tessara, how frequently did your Vionian masters use your anus?”

The bluntness of his question, combined with the clinical probing of such an intimate area, sparked something rebellious within me. A surge of defiance rose up, pushing past my shame and embarrassment.

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