ONE MONTH APPOINTMENT

“We have to hurry or we’ll be late”, says Helen checking at her watch as she applies just a few dabs of perfume behind her ears. David is in the bathroom, finishing his shave as his wife checks herself over in the mirror. She’s right of course. It’s almost noon and the appointment at the clinic is in less than 30 minutes.

It’s a routine check-up of course. A follow up by Dr Sinclair to check the implant and to make sure that it is functioning as expected. She doesn’t expect any real problems of course but, you can’t be too careful these days as implants unexpectedly dying within a host can present problems all of their own.

Entering into the clinic itself though, David immediately espies the pretty auburn haired young receptionist at the main desk. She’s an ample, wide-hipped girl of somewhere around 28 dressed immaculately in a floral mid-calf length skirt and a thin white high gloss silk blouse. The fact that she is perhaps around a 44DD breast size though has surely captured his attention and his ever observant wife is certainly quick to pick up on that.

Helen nudges him in the ribs accordingly with her elbow and casts him a knowing frown, causing him to raise an eyebrow as though in mock surprise at the sudden and unexpected action.

“I wasn’t… “, he says under his breath, his best confused expression now firmly in evidence upon his face.

“You were”, whispers Helen. “Now sit down and behave”

David throws his hands into the air like a caught schoolboy and then finally concedes making his way to the comfortable looking leather chairs nearby to take a seat, whilst Helen checks in with the receptionist before joining him, picking up a magazine from the table on the way and then proceeding to flick casually through it. David then settles back into the plush leather chair looking around the room, seemingly anywhere now but the reception desk lest he incur Helen’s wrath for ogling yet again, until that is that Helen arises and asks where the toilet is.

The receptionist duly points its direction out to her and then returns to attending to her duties once more, leaving David free to enjoy yet another covert observation of those awesome breasts of hers.

In the toilet Helen lifts her skirt and slip to her waist, pulls down her panties and then sits down to pee, her gaze absentmindedly fixed upon the stream of urine as it flows out of her and into the pan. It’s a strange thought knowing that Simmonds is feeling that in some way, that by the simple act of emptying of her bladder he suffers the indignity of her pissing just next to him.

“Are you enjoying that you fucking creep?” she says. “I’m pissing on you and you’re trapped inside me. Forever”

Helen giggles as she feels the implant moving again, which causes a pleasurable twinge in her clit. “That’s right. Squirm you little shit. You’re never coming out. Get used to it”, she adds, before standing up and pulling up her panties again and then dropping her skirts back into place.

She proceeds then to wash her hands, humming to herself as she does so….

Outside in the waiting room David is now elsewhere. It was no good of course, ever since he had been a child he had always been a breast man and a large rack with a pleasant cleavage always drew his gaze no matter what. The fact that this girls shiny silky blouse though, unbuttoned to her heaving cleavage and stretched perhaps just a little too tautly over her bulging and unashamed pulchritude, meant that it could not go unnoticed, and David was absolutely mesmerized.

It didn’t help matters much either that the thin silk of her expensive looking blouse was pulling taut every now and then to show the obvious outline of her bra along with the slight but unmistakable prominences of two ever so slightly raised nipples whenever she had cause to reach up for something on one of the higher shelves to her right.

David had wondered to himself if the girl was perhaps aware of the effect that she was now having upon him, that maybe she was in some way enjoying his admiring glances. After all, didn’t all young women enjoy being ogled? If she were then she certainly wasn’t showing any hint of it, and whatever the case Helen quickly returned to put an end to his testosterone fueled meanderings, casting a brief smile at the young secretary before retaking her seat again.

David nodded to her and then sighed inwardly. Then he picked up a magazine for himself…

Five minutes later and they were both with Dr Sinclair in her plush and ornate consulting room, the busty receptionist now gone from David’s mind as they returned to the subject of Simmonds and his fate thereof, secreted away forever within the inescapable depths of his wife’s punishing and now somewhat insatiable Vagina…

"So, how is it all going?" asked Sinclair, clasping her hands together before her upon the green leather inlayed table as she spoke.

"It's going good" said Helen. "No real problems at all apart from trying 'Not' to become incredibly sexually aroused at times of course"

Sinclair smiled a knowing smile. If she could have received a pound for every woman that had ever said that to her of late, then she’d be even richer than she already was.

"Yes, that does seem to be one of the more common complaints that I hear", she said. "If one could ever really call it a complaint of course", she added, chuckling briefly at her own remark.

"Some women actually do see that as one of the benefits", she offered, "I mean… a constant state of arousal does have its advantages, as I'm sure you would agree"

Helen smiled at that. The Doctor was right of course. What woman would not enjoy the feeling of having a living, squirming dildo struggling like crazy to get free embedded into her cunt quite literally on a 24/7 basis?

"Oh I'm not saying it's a bad thing, far from it. But it can and surely does get in the way at times when one is, shall we say, trying to concentrate on something other than being pleasured", she said, wondering to herself then whether or not the good Doctor had ever actually experienced an implant for herself at all.

"Yes, of course. That’s a given I guess", said Sinclair. "So, how about love making and such. Are there any problems there with the implant in place at all?"

Helen smiled and then glanced briefly towards David, who raised an eyebrow.

"On the contrary, our sex life has improved vastly", said Helen. "I seem to want it all the time now, much to David's obvious approval", she added, this time raising an eyebrow back towards her sheepish husband.

Sinclair nodded accordingly.

"Yes, that does seem to be one of the more prominent pluses of the implantation process", she remarked. "And probably the very same reason why Vaginal/Clitoral implantation is my most requested procedure too"

“Requested?” remarked David. “I thought that this kind of thing was all a part of the judiciary. Punishments being carried out against criminals and such. Are you saying then that that’s not always the case?” he asked.

Sinclair raised an eyebrow. “Let’s just say that the judiciary is not my only client”, she answered.

"So it's carried out a lot then?" asked David, interjecting. “I mean, well… As far as just the judicial system side of things will allow of course”, he added.

Sinclair picked up an ornate solid Gold pen from the table beside her and then she rested back into her chair, crossing one nylon clad leg over the other and then toying with the expensive pen in her fingers as she contemplated just how to answer that. Both David and Helen ‘Seemed’ open minded and they had now experienced first-hand what having a live implant actually meant. They knew of the pleasure that could be obtained in the service of having a sentence carried out in order to remove a particularly nasty undesirable from society.

The truth of the matter though was that the judiciary really wasn’t the only client that had ever used Sinclair’s surgical services, and whilst the bulk of the implantation service was indeed taken up by way of sentences that were being handed out by the bar against the criminal fraternity, there were many private contracts also, and Sinclair was not one to ask too many questions of her clients so long as the money was forthcoming.

Sometimes people ‘Needed’ to disappear and there were those that paid handsomely for that to happen. The reasons were many and varied of course. Sometimes a woman would perhaps need a no longer attractive husband removing from an equation in order to make way for a more virile and better looking option. Occasionally a less than legit organization might need a similar removal with the added advantage of someone linked to the client receiving the lascivious pleasure of ‘knowing’ what had happened to them. 

Money, as always, talked. And everyone, including Sinclair had their price…

“So, is it then?” repeated David, “carried out a lot I mean”

“I do about fifteen a week”, said Sinclair, finally placing the pen back down upon the table. “As I said, it’s my most requested procedure, the next being breast implantation”, she added.

“Breast implantation?” enquired Helen, shifting uncomfortably in her seat now as the unfortunate Simmonds squirmed somewhere inside her. “How does that work exactly?” she added. “I mean, where exactly would an implant go?”

“Well, the clitoris is not the only erogenous zone on a woman’s body of course”, said the Doctor “Nipples too are highly amenable to stimulation as I’m sure you are aware. More so from within if you get my meaning”, she added.

“You’ve implanted people into women’s breasts?” enquired David, his mind suddenly shifting then to the busty receptionist from the waiting room and the slightly pronounced nipples that occasionally showed through her blouse whenever she reached upwards to retrieve something from the shelf.

“Occasionally I do”, said Sinclair. “Perhaps around four, maybe five times a week, making it my second most requested procedure, somewhat suspiciously I might add from those that have already undergone a Vaginal/Clitoral”, she added, leaving Helen and David to make of that little snippet of information what they would.

Helen squirmed again in her chair at the thought of just what another Simmonds might feel like squirming deliciously beneath the material of her bra and blouse, quite literally from within her breast, just as Simmonds himself moved once again to a gentle and uncontrolled squeeze of her pelvic floor muscles.

‘Ooh. A tiny man trapped inside my breast’, thought Helen, her thoughts suddenly broken by the Doctor speaking once again.

“But anyway”, said Sinclair, shifting herself forwards once again and then placing her hands upon the table in readiness to arise. Let’s get you checked out shall we. I have a few tests to run on the implant, just to make sure everything is OK”

“It’s fine”, said Helen, her cheeks just a slight bit rosier now. “It’s moving as we speak”

“I’ll bet it is”, said Sinclair, prompting Helen to wonder then just what the Doctor might have meant by that remark. “I’ll need you on the couch”, she added, “skirt up, pants down etc. Let’s have a good look at the little guy”

Helen did as she was bid, leaving David where he sat, his mind now drifting predictably once again to the awesome breasts of the receptionist sitting outside in the waiting room. In his mind’s eye she had had live implants put within them of course, the very thought of it all stirring his cock in his pants as he tried to imagine what that might be like. It was equally likely of course that she did not have implants and that the slightly raised nipples he’d espied were just that.

Nipples and nothing more…

And yet upon considering the very nature of what actually went on in this clinic…

David shivered at the image that was now forming in his head and his manhood twitched again in his pants threatening to give his little game away. Could it actually be the case then that there might be two tiny shrunken little men hidden away beneath that expensive shiny silk blouse of hers? Two helpless and trapped little guys implanted alive inside that awesome tit flesh and squirming quite futilely for a release that would never ever come?

“Oh my…” said David, under his breath, just low enough for the remark not to have been heard by either his wife, or the good Doctor.

Which was probably just as well…

Helen laid back on the couch, her feet in the customary but undignified stirrups that allowed for easy access to her genital region whilst Sinclair busied herself setting up some equipment to monitor things. Within a minute though a high resolution screen had come to life on the wall and was displaying an accurate 3D scan of the interior of Helen’s vagina, and within another few seconds, Simmonds was visible right down to the detail upon his face!

“Wow. That is truly something”, said Helen, marveling now at the detail and taking note that a completely recognizable Simmonds actually appeared to be crying out from within her. Sinclair nodded accordingly. It was nothing new to her of course and she’d seen it many times beforehand as she switched the views to show the arterial and venal supplies linking his body into Helen’s.

“This is very good”, said the Doctor, pointing now to the saturation levels of Simmonds body in comparison to his hosts. “It’s leveled completely. No rejection at all. A perfect inclusion”, she added, switching the view on the monitor again to show various fluctuating hormone levels between host and implant.

“Your own female hormones are enervating him entirely. They’re effectively dominating him”, said Sinclair, pointing to two figures on the readout. “He’s fighting desperately but he’s certainly not winning. His testosterone levels have all but bottomed out here and here”, she said, pointing to two points on a graph. “Which is completely oppressing and cancelling out any ability for him to use any appreciable strength to even attempt to cause you any damage”, she added.

Helen nodded to acknowledge the information, although not entirely understanding just what it all meant for Simmonds inside her. She certainly liked the sound of it though, her own female hormones effectively emasculating him like that and keeping him subdued.

“He’s quite literally becoming absorbed in an Estrogenic soup of your own making”, continued Sinclair, “and one day he’ll be all but indistinguishable to any other organ in your body”

Helen smiled once again as the one thing that had occasionally worried her was that he might actually be able to do just that. “So, he’ll still continue to struggle and such, but not enough to ever be able to hurt me?” she asked.

Sinclair nodded.

“Helen, he never could hurt you anyway.  I did tell you that at the start of the procedure. No man is strong enough at that size to be able to fight the grip of a woman’s vaginal muscles and nor could he physically pull his body from the graft points to hurt you in anyway. And looking at these figures, very soon he’ll be enervated even further too. A docile and helpless little lamb capable of little more than gentle ministrations against your sexual core”, said Sinclair.

“A limp lettuce geared entirely for your personal pleasure and little else”, she added. “Almost like a part of your sex organs in a way”

Helen laughed at that, the notion of the previously brutal and highly aggressive Simmonds reduced now to being little more than a part of her sexual anatomy. 

“Oh I like that”, she said. “He really is becoming a part of me now. He ‘took’ pleasure from my body. And now he is returning it back to me”, she said, amused at the somewhat fitting simile.

“Yes, precisely”, said Sinclair. “Karma is such a bitch now that women rule the world, don’t you think?”