Juliette chooses the wrong fertility doctor. The tests came back looking great. Fertility is all but assured. I will conceive with the proper insemination. That’s what the doctor told me. He wanted to give me vitamins, but it was something a lot stronger. Now I’m completely at his mercy.
First he tests me. Measurements, pictures, rectal temperature. He spared no violation. Then came the worst violations. There’s no reason he needed to test my sexual response. Milk my tits to see how much they can produce.
He taught me to breath in preparation. He tested my ability to dilate. His hand barely fit. Then it was time for the sample. Several men contributed he says. I’m sure he was one of them, the sick bastard.
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