Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65189 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
We stopped before a nondescript door. The nurse pushed it open, revealing a stark examination room. My heart rate sped up as I took in the gleaming metal surfaces, the instruments atop a cart, and the exam table in the center.
I stepped into the room, my heart pounding. The nurse closed the door behind us with a soft click that seemed to echo in the sterile space.
“Please remove all your clothing and place it on the chair,” she instructed, her tone brisk and professional.
I blinked, taken aback. “Um, don’t I get a gown or something?”
The nurse’s expression didn’t change. “That won’t be necessary for this examination. Please disrobe completely.”
My cheeks burned as I hesitantly began to unbutton my blouse. The nurse busied herself with something on the metal tray, giving me a semblance of privacy. I stripped down to my underwear, then paused, my fingers on the clasp of my bra.
“Everything, dear,” the nurse prompted without turning around.
Swallowing hard, I removed my bra and panties, folding them neatly atop the pile of my clothes. I stood there, naked and shivering, my arms crossed over my chest in a futile attempt at modesty.
“Just step on the scale for me, please,” the nurse said.
I did, and the nurse recorded the result—of which I felt some pride—without comment, then measured my height.
“Up on the table, please,” she said. “Go ahead and lie back.”
I climbed onto the exam table, the paper crinkling beneath me. As I reclined, something caught my eye that made my blood run cold. Webbing straps, with Velcro fastenings, hung from the sides of the table, clearly meant to restrain a patient’s wrists and ankles.
“W-why are there restraints?” I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.
My heart pounded as I stared at them, a chill running through my naked body. The nurse’s expression remained impassive as she approached the table.
“It’s a standard precaution,” she said calmly. “Nothing to be concerned about.”
But alarm bells were ringing in my head. This was far from standard. I sat up, ready to bolt for the door.
“I don’t think I want to go through with this,” I said, my voice shaking. “I’ll just leave and give up my spot in the program.”
The nurse’s eyes flashed with something—pity? Regret? No…
Disapproval. I swallowed hard, my cheeks flushing hot.
“You’ll understand soon, dear,” she said softly. “Or you may leave and, yes, give up your spot in the program. But you and I both know you won’t do that. This opportunity won’t come again.”
I hesitated, torn between my instinct to flee and my desperate desire to salvage my academic dreams. What would happen if I stayed? But what future did I have if I left?
The nurse waited silently as I wrestled with the decision. My mind raced, weighing the risks against the potential rewards. Was I overreacting? Maybe this was just an unorthodox exam. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation.
Or maybe I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life.
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “Okay,” I whispered. “I’ll stay.”
CHAPTER 2
Alice
The nurse nodded, her expression unreadable. “Lie back,” she instructed again, her tone severe.
With trembling limbs, I lowered myself onto the crinkly paper. The cold metal of the exam table sent goosebumps racing across my skin. I stared up at the harsh fluorescent lights, trying to steady my breathing as the nurse moved to the side of the table.
“Arms at your sides,” she said crisply.
I complied, my heart thundering in my chest as she grasped my wrist. The Velcro made a harsh ripping sound as she secured the restraint, cinching it snugly. She repeated the process on my other wrist, then moved to the foot of the table.
“Feet in the stirrups,” she directed.
Hesitantly, I lifted my legs, face burning as I placed my feet in the cold metal stirrups. The position left me feeling horribly exposed. The nurse efficiently strapped my ankles into place, leaving me spread open and utterly helpless.
“There now,” she said, her tone almost soothing. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
I couldn’t bring myself to respond, mortification stealing my voice. The nurse wheeled over a small cart laden with various instruments. My eyes widened as I caught sight of things that looked decidedly more invasive than standard medical equipment.
“Let’s start with your vitals,” the nurse said, selecting a blood pressure cuff.
I tried to focus on my breathing as the nurse wrapped the cuff around my arm and inflated it. The pressure was uncomfortable, but it was nothing compared to the anxiety coursing through me. What kind of examination was this?
“Blood pressure’s a bit high,” the nurse commented. “Not surprising, given the circumstances.”
She made a note on her clipboard, then picked up a stethoscope. The cold metal made me flinch as she pressed it to my chest.
“Deep breaths,” she instructed.
I complied, desperately trying to calm my racing heart. The nurse listened intently, moving the stethoscope to various points on my chest and back.