The Prey

“Come in here. I’m going to do a routine exam, take some blood and fit you for an IUD.”

“An IUD!” Mara exclaimed anxiously. “That’s a birth control thing?”

The doctor looked at her impassively. “That’s right.”

As the full import of this sank in, the doctor directed her to sit on one of two stools next to a gynecological table. Mara sank onto the stool, her heart pounding. The doctor sat on the other stool. Typing into an iPad as he talked, the doctor asked her a series of questions about her medical history, the date of her last period, any pregnancies and other routine questions as if this were any typical medical exam.

Woodenly Mara answered, her mind scrambling all the while to think of a way to get out of whatever was going to happen, and coming up blank.

When he was done with the questions, the doctor set aside the tablet and wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her arm. He pressed the button on the small box attached to the cord. The machine beeped as the cuff tightened and the doctor regarded the screen.

“Blood pressure’s way high, but I doubt it means much, seeing as it’s your first day and all. You’re probably scared out of your wits, am I right?”

Mara nodded. “Please,” she tried yet again. “Can you help me, Doctor? I’m not supposed to be here. I was kidnapped. You have to—”

“Stop,” the doctor said, placing his hand firmly over her mouth. “Not another word. I don’t want to hear your sad tale of woe.” He looked her over. “You’re young and stupid. You think life is supposed to be fair and people are basically good at heart.” He shook his head, his expression darkening. “Well, think again, little girl. Life sucks and most people are assholes. The sooner you figure that out, the better off you’ll be. Meanwhile, keep your head down and your mouth shut.” He chuckled. “Except, of course, when someone wants it open.”

He removed his hand and stood, turning toward the counter, his back to her. Not ready to give up, Mara scanned the room, searching for something she might use as a weapon. The doctor turned back to her, a needle and glass vial in his now gloved hands. “I’m going to take some blood and then we’ll do the exam and insertion. Stay still and behave. I’ll be asked for a report on your conduct, and I’m sure you want good marks. You know what they say—good girls get rewarded, bad girls…” He trailed off. “Go on, tell me,” he said, his eyes glinting cruelly. “What happens to bad girls here on Pirate Island, Mara?”

Her mouth dry with fear, Mara managed to whisper, “They get punished.”

“That’s right.” The doctor nodded. “Now hold still.” He slid the tip of the needle into her arm. Mara looked away, never keen on seeing her own blood. When he was done, he pressed a cotton ball over the tiny prick and covered that with an adhesive bandage.

“Okay, up on the table, feet in the stirrups,” he ordered. Numbly, Mara complied. To her extreme dismay, he drew Velcro straps tightly around her ankles to hold her forcibly in place. Standing between her spread legs, the doctor palpated her organs and roughly squeezed and massaged her breasts. He squirted lubricant on his gloved fingers and, pulling the stool between her legs, sat down, his face close to her spread sex. He inserted a finger deep inside her, the palm of his other hand pressing uncomfortably against her stomach as he tilted his head in concentration.

Apparently satisfied, he then pushed a finger suddenly into her anus, and Mara yelped with embarrassed surprise. After a moment the finger was withdrawn. The doctor stood and moved to the counter, where he stripped the gloves from his hands and dropped them into a trashcan. Slipping on another pair of gloves, he returned to her, holding a speculum.

“I’m going to do a Pap and insert the IUD. You’re doing very well. I’m going to insert the speculum now, so stay nice and still.”

Mara swallowed hard and blew out a breath. She wanted to yank the speculum from the man’s grasp and bash him in the head with it. She tensed as the cold, gooey metal was inserted and slowly but inexorably opened to spread her wide. There was an unpleasant but brief poke against her cervix. Sitting back, the doctor dabbed the tip of the long-stemmed cotton swab against a glass slide and then set the slide and swab on the countertop.

Leaving the speculum open wide inside her, the doctor unwrapped something and held it up for her to see. Made of white plastic, it looked like the battery-operated cocktail stirrer her father had kept in his bar, with a T-shaped device a few inches long attached to the end of it. “This little thing at the end is the IUD and this”—he ran his gloved finger along the stem—“is the handy-dandy inserter.” He grinned at her. “Insertion is a piece of cake. First I’m going to swab your cervix with an antiseptic, and then we’ll insert the IUD. Since you just had your period a week ago, the timing couldn’t be better. You’ll be ready for use in a day or so.”