Page 15 of Shameful Needs
“Have you… I mean, is this your first time?” he’d asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
It had been the perfect moment to tell him everything. About Chad, about the things I’d done, about the way my body craved rough treatment and degradation. But when I’d opened my mouth, looking at his sweet, earnest face, I’d chickened out completely.
“I’ve had sex before,” I’d said, my voice small and ashamed. “But it wasn’t… it wasn’t good. It didn’t mean anything.”
The relief in his eyes had been immediate, as if he’d been worried about hurting me or not knowing what to do. “I’ll make it good for you,” he’d promised, kissing me softly. “I’ll take care of you.”
And he had tried. God, he’d tried so hard to be gentle and kind as he’d made love to me that night. His touches had been reverent, worshipful, everything a new bride should want. But as he’d moved inside me with careful, measured strokes, I’d felt nothing but frustration building in my chest.
“Oh, God,” I whimpered now as Dr. Hamelin increased the vibrator’s intensity, the memory of that night mixing with the overwhelming sensations between my legs. I’d faked my orgasm that night, moaning and arching beneath Ryan the way I thought I should, but inside I’d been screaming for him to be rougher, to take me harder, to use me the way Chad had.
“Does that feel good, Heather?” Dr. Hamelin’s voice cut through my memories. “Your body is responding beautifully.”
I bit my lip and shook my head, trying to block out both his words and the helpless arousal building inside me. But the vibrator was relentless, and I could feel my resistance crumbling with each passing second.
On our wedding night, after Ryan had collapsed beside me with a satisfied sigh, I’d stared at the ceiling and wondered if this was what the rest of my life would be like. Gentle, loving sex thatleft me empty and wanting. I’d told myself I could learn to enjoy it, that I could train my body to respond to tenderness instead of domination.
But I’d been lying to myself, just like I’d been lying to Ryan. I’d wondered if maybe he was holding back, if he wanted to be more controlling with me, but was too polite to ask for that—let alone just to take it, the way Chad had done. But I’d decided I was just imagining it, projecting my own twisted desires onto my gentle husband.
I’d thought I would get used to it, that missionary position sex would eventually satisfy me. Since then we’d had sex once a week on Saturday night. I could tell Ryan definitely wanted more sex, at least in terms of quantity. I’d see the way he looked at me sometimes, the hunger in his eyes when I bent over to pick something up or when I came out of the shower. But I couldn’t bring myself to offer it, because that felt immodest, and I felt like when Ryan asked at other times, I should modestly pretend I didn’t want to.
The vibrator’s intensity increased, and I gasped as a memory from the previous month flooded back. Ryan had been getting my pussy ready for sex, his fingers gentle and careful as always, when he’d accidentally brushed against my anus. The sensation had been electric, sending shockwaves through my entire body, and I’d moaned before I could stop myself.
“Sorry,” he’d whispered, starting to pull his hand away.
“No, that’s off limits,” I’d said quickly, my face burning with shame and arousal. The words had tumbled out before I could think, because the touch had felt so good, so much like what Chad used to do to me. I’d had to shut it down before I begged him to do it again.
Ryan had looked confused and a little hurt, but he’d nodded and moved his hand away. “Of course. I didn’t mean to?—”
“It’s fine,” I’d lied, even as my body screamed for more. “Just… not there.”
Now, with the vibrator buzzing against my clit and my body on fire with need, I couldn’t hold back anymore. The memories, the sensations, the desperate ache between my legs—they all crashed together in a wave of overwhelming desire.
“Please,” I gasped, my hips bucking against the restraints. “Please, I need?—”
“What do you need, Heather?” Dr. Hamelin’s voice was steady, professional.
“I need you to fuck me.” The words tore from my throat in a desperate sob. “Please, I can’t take it anymore. I need your cock inside me. Please fuck me, please?—”
“No,” Dr. Hamelin said calmly, not even pausing in his ministrations with the vibrator. “That’s not what this is about.”
The rejection made searing heat flash into my cheeks. I’d finally broken, finally admitted what I truly wanted, and he was denying me. “But I begged,” I whimpered, tears streaming down my face. “I thought you said… I thought you said Ryan gave permission! I did what you wanted?—”
“Your husband did give permission for your trainers to fuck you, Heather,” he replied. “But that’s not what’s going to happen now. And this isn’t about what I want.”
I felt the vibrator’s position shift, and a fresh surge of sensation crashed over me. My body had begun to betray me completely, responding to his touch in ways that made me want to die of shame.
“This is about teaching you to understand yourself,” Dr. Hamelin continued, his voice maddeningly calm as I writhed against the restraints. “About helping you recognize what kind of girl you truly are, so you can be honest with your husband for the first time in your marriage.”
“I don’t understand,” I sobbed, my hips bucking desperately against the vibrator. The pleasure was building to an unbearable peak, and I could feel my orgasm approaching like a freight train. “What do you want from me?”
Dr. Hamelin didn’t answer me directly. Instead, he turned to Nurse Simmons and asked, “How are the biometric readings looking?”
“The perineal sensor I installed when I shaved her is working perfectly,” Nurse Simmons replied, consulting her tablet. “We’re getting excellent data on her arousal patterns.”
I tried to process what she’d said through the haze of sensation. “What… what perineal sensor?” I gasped, my voice barely coherent.
Then suddenly, a sharp beeping sound filled the room. Nurse Simmons looked up from her tablet with a knowing smile. “She’s about to climax,” she announced.
