Yes, its a RIP OFF. Sorry.

This is an extensive rewrite of the original episode one
of the story BODY DONATION, by Sarah Kingdom, followed by
an all-new continuation in subsequent chapters.

OK, its actually a shameless theft of her great idea, some
of Sarah's writing, main character name, and much of the plot
of part one.

My excuse: I couldn't resist it! The idea was so hot, with so
much potential for further elaboration, and future developments.

At least I changed the title.

---------------------------------------------------------------------
SAVE THE ANIMALS!

Part One of ?
- IN THE MALL - 
Rachel does what she can to help stop animal experimentation.




Rachel has taken a much needed Friday afternoon break from the craziness
of the office. Dressed in a smart, gray business suit, and looking like
a woman already on the way up at 23, she is a delightful sight. Tall
and slim with long dark, straight hair, men (and quite a few women too)
admire her in the mall as she strides elegantly past.

She'd had quite enough of the office for this week. Most of her co-workers
had managed to offend her ideals in the last few days. They seemed to care
for nothing outside the narrow, thoughtless scope of their lives. This
last week the news of the terrible oil spill had been breaking her heart,
with its immense loss and suffering of wildlife along the coast. Yet
her closest girlfriends in the office seemed to talk of nothing but
Francine's affair with the courier fellow, and who had caught them
doing what. As if anyone cared about that. Disgusting rumours, she
certainly would never believe even that tart Francine could have got
herself in such a predicament. No one would own up to having actually
found her and calling rescue to get her released, rather than helping
her themselves, so the whole thing was probably another urban legend
in the making.

Such an annoying empty din, like television adverts - totally brain-dead,
but still requiring an effort to pull oneself away. To ignore the nasty
cheap excitement such stories sadly tended to stir in the body. She was
above such things, thankfully. Well, almost entirely. It was so irritating
how they'd keep dropping in on her office, passing on the most disgusting
snippets.

Repeatedly she'd been required to politely listen, feigning interest,
then be thrown off her work later, as she concentrated on not thinking
about... that nonsense.
Finally this morning, she'd lost her temper and told Julia and Gwen to
get out of her office, and take their filthy gossip with them. A bit
too harsh, perhaps. They'd been offended, and told her to lighten up,
it was just good fun. She'd told them she'd had more than enough of
this 'fun' and intended to never hear any more of it again.

As for James, her till-recent friend - how was she to know he actually
went hunting poor defenceless deer, with a _gun_. How callously egotistical!
It would serve him right if he caught that disease from the meat, and there
was _no_way_ she thought his offer of a fresh venison dinner at his place
was even funny.
Still worse when it turned out that at least four of the other guys at
work _had_ eaten James' murdered deer that night. And were now, this
very afternoon, chattily planning another 'office hunting party'! How
could she ever speak to them again?
When she'd walked in on the conversation at the water cooler, she'd
actually shouted at them. She'd announced she was getting out of that
testosterone tub, right NOW. And had left for the afternoon.
Let them wonder.

Browsing the mall shops, she was angrily crossing off her various
co-workers from her mental 'speak to again' list, when she found herself
in front of a jeweller's shop. Hah! She was becoming more and more convinced
these days, that the whole idea of letting herself be tied to some oaf
by a bit of polished carbon crystal was a huge dead end. Thinking of it
now, she can barely believe that back in her teens she had been heartbroken
when her first boyfriend Alex had left her for another, after more than
a year of... well, a year. But in the end, it had been a lucky break.
It had taken her a while to mature, and realise how exploitive he'd been
in the way he'd treated her. Now she was over that, well in control of
the animal urges of her body by the time she was a year into college.
That had been a bit difficult, at first, keeping her mind focussed on
study, and not the things she'd used to do with Alex. Or really, that
he'd done with her, the manipulative bastard. And she'd allowed too,
to her shame. Just because it felt... no, best put aside. She'd sure
learnt what dangers lay in _that_ thicket! First boyfriend, and last
boyfriend too, thank goodness! Who _needs_ them! she thinks. It only
ends up in shameful farces like Francine's, letting herself be chained
naked to the storeroom shelving. And the rest of it, if she paid any attention
to gossip.


She wanders on, picking up the groceries for the weekend. Which she
plans to spend by herself, at her oasis of sanity, her little flat.
Perhaps an evening at a play in town, about a woman's struggle for
recognition in the male-ruled academia of 19th century England.


As she is about done in the mall anyway, she comes across an animal
rights activist stand in a quieter corner. They have a variety of
truly shocking literature, on the cruelty inflicted on countless
animals in the name of scientific research. It makes her sick to her
stomach, all of it. Why does the world have to be so perverted and
vile?
A lifelong animal lover, Rachel is feeling extra fed up with such
cruelty today, what with her callous deer-hunting co-workers. She
reaches for her purse, and makes a generous donation.

"Thank you very much." responds one of the serious girls behind the table.
"There is something else you could do to help us if you want."

"What can I do?" replies Rachel.

"Why not agree to carry one of these?" The girl holds up a small plastic
card and Rachel accepts it from her. It bears the words HUMANE RESEARCH
DONOR CARD. Underneath this a short statement of agreement that the body
of the card holder may be used for education or scientific research
in place of the use of animals.

"All you have to do is sign up with us and carry that card with you. If we
get enough people on board we can stop animals being used in research. All
the tests those scientists need to do can be done on human tissue which is
certainly far more meaningful anyway."

"And they would stop testing things on animals?" asks Rachel.

"Hopefully." the girl smiles. "A lot of people carry kidney donor cards
and the like. Why not help the animals too? I've got mine." The girl
proudly takes a card from her pocket and holds it up.

"That's a great idea. What do I have to do?" Rachel asks, excited at being
able to do something really positive for the animals.

"Just read these papers and enter your details and signature at the bottom.
You can keep that card you have there. Just keep it on your person at all
times. Then all you have to do is go up to the University labs so that
they can check that you are suitable. That's it really. Then you'll be
a donor."

Rachel enthusiastically takes the papers from the girl. There are three pages
detailing the agreement with a form at the end for personal details. She
quickly fills in her details and signs the document.

"When can I go to the University? Will they contact me?"

The girl takes the papers. "No, just pop up any time and ask for Doctor
Keir. He'll complete your registration. That's his name on the card."

"I'm off for the rest of the day. Maybe I can pop up this afternoon."

The girl smiles. "I'm sure that would be OK. Thank you for joining up.
We really are very grateful for this."

Rachel slips the card into her purse. "It's no problem and thank YOU
very much."

She smiles to herself as she walks away. It really made her feel
good that she could do her own bit in stopping all this cruelty to
animals. Perhaps today was not totally a series of disasters after all.

                   -----------------------------


IN THE DOCTOR'S OFFICE

Much later that day, Rachel has found her way to the university, and with
some assistance to the office of Dr Keir. This turns out to be a windowless
and functionally furnished room, well back into the depths of the Medical
Sciences Faculty building. She is shown through a final maze of the School
of Experimental Studies by a crusty old School secretary, who manages to
act as if Rachel is far beneath her level, despite being a good five inches
shorter than Rachel.  The woman, who must be in her forties if a day,
knocks on the Doctor's door, and introduces Rachel as "Rachel, another of
your donors, Dr Keir" and leaves, with a disapproving sniff.


The doctor welcomes her disinterestedly, seeming wholly preoccupied
with his computer screen. He does not rise, but waves her to take the
seat in front of his desk. Rachel sits.

He taps at the keys a few moments more, then a laser printer whines into
action behind him. He turns to Rachel.

"Hello Rachel. Thank you for volunteering to donate to eliminate animal
experimentation. Its heartening to see how many people are motivated!
Your form arrived a while ago, I've been going through it. Quite a few
details to be checked, for one reason or another most applicants are not
suitable. However, you seem an admirable candidate, I'm happy to say.
Now all we have to do is a quick examination and you will be officially
accepted as a donor."

Rachel is unsure. "What kind of examination?"

"Don't worry. It's just a formality. I have to make sure you are suitable.
We don't want anyone with a history of drugs or ill-health. Just a quick,
basic medical check and your registration will be complete."

Rachel is still unsure. "What do I have to do?" Maybe this wasn't such a
good idea after all.

"You don't have to do anything difficult, Miss Lake. Just do as I say.
I know what I am doing, after all I am a Doctor. It shouldn't take more
than about fifteen minutes. I was in a hurry to leave this evening anyway,
and having just spent half an hour checking out your paperwork, I'm already
running a bit late as it is. Please don't delay things further.

Rachel doesn't want to be examined but she doesn't want to back out. She
really wanted to help the animals, and she came all this way. "If I don't
agree to let you examine me, will that mean I won't be accepted as a donor?"

The Doctor smiled. "That's right. Actually you already have agreed to this
when you signed up earlier. And since you did so, several people including
myself have already spent some time and expense doing the background checks
you also agreed to. We don't wish to waste our efforts like that, on every
person that carelessly enters this program without intending to complete
the necessary follow up. So you'll find that there are some fairly stiff
provisions in that document, to discourage such time wasters. It is legally
correct for the university to insist that you fully cooperate, and if you
refuse, you will automatically be sued for recovery of our costs so far.
However, we are also legally entitled at this point to proceed with the
examination regardless of your cooperation now - after all, you have entered
into a contract, agreeing to the examination in return for the privilege of
participating in our program."

She stares in confusion at him, as he pauses for several moments. 'What!
No way!', she is thinking. Her thoughts must be showing, since he continues
in a much cooler tone. "Of course, I could call a couple of assistants to
help me if you do not cooperate. Those two graduate research assistants
you saw in the School office near Ms Pelton - who brought you through here.
I'm sure they'd be delighted to assist me."

Rachel is shocked. "That can't be right."

"I'm afraid it is. You should always read the small print on any contract
you sign."

Rachel sits quietly. How can this be happening? She is effectively being
forced to let this Doctor examine her. She kicks herself for not reading
the fine print. Helping the animals is all very well, but not so great
if it means she has to let this impolite example of the male species touch
her.

"It's up to you, Miss Lake. Cooperate with the examination, or I will call
my assistants to give me a hand. They are not the gentlest of men. It would
be much easier and quicker for both of us if you simply agree to have the
check-up. It will be very brief."

Hesitantly, Rachel thinks back to the two young men she remembers seeing
on the way in. She'd thought they were janitors or something. They did look
rather rough. "I guess I don't really have much choice. I wish I hadn't
come here today."

"Come, come now Miss Lake", says the Doctor. "Your donation is much
appreciated. The examination is a small price to pay for helping the
animals, isn't it?"

"OK." sighs Rachel. "Let's get this over with. What do I have to do?"

"Just go and stand over there in front of the white screen."

Rachel looks across and sees a digital camera on a tripod facing a large
white screen. Next to this is a small desk with a PC. A small black cross
of sticky tape lies on the floor about two feet from the screen.

"Stand on the cross and face the camera."

Rachel walks over and stands on the cross. She turns to face the camera
and then watches as the Doctor approaches and stands behind the camera.
He begins to adjust the controls and look at the PC screen.

"We need some pictures of you for our records. Stand to attention with
your arms at your side. Please stand straight and look directly at me. "

Rachel stands up straight. The Doctor continues to concentrate on the
camera.

"Good. Now turn 90 degrees to your right."

Rachel turns to face a painting on the wall. Now the camera has a view
of her left profile. The painting is of a restful pastoral scene, with
roses.

"Stand up straight again."

Rachel stares at the painting as the Doctor takes the next picture.

"Now turn another 90 degrees to your right and face the screen"

Rachel turns again. She stands to attention without being told.

"That's it. Another 90 degree turn please."

Rachel turns and faces the door. Again she stands to attention.

"OK. That's those shots done. Face the front again."

Rachel turns to face the camera again.

The Doctor walks over to a device between Rachel and the door.
"I need to measure your height now. Please take off your shoes
and come over here. Put the shoes in this plastic crate."
He lifts up a small, grey plastic crate and puts it on top of his
desk.

Rachel steps out of her shoes and bends down to pick them up.
She carries them to the desk and puts them into the grey, plastic
crate. The carpet feels soft and deep to her bare feet. Somehow
reassuring. She notices a white label on the side of the crate.

RACHEL LAKE
BODY DONATION
VOLUNTEER 183

'How organised!' she thinks. "To even have that personalised
already.' 

"Hurry up!" the Doctor speaks sharply. "I haven't got all day.
I like to get home early on a Friday evening."

Rachel walks over to the man who stands next to the wall. On it
are marked height measurements up to seven feet. She notices
there are faint remnants of very many pen marks on the scale.

"Stand up straight with your back against the wall".

Rachel does as she is told and the man uses a pencil to make a
mark on the wall level with the top of her head.

"Step away now. Go and sit down on the chair next to my desk"

The Doctor looks at the height measurement and then walks over
to his desk and sits down. He writes on an A4 sheet of paper.

"Now I need to have a little listen to your heart and examine your
arms. Take off your jacket and blouse and put them in the crate."

Rachel pauses, not sure if she should continue. Her heart takes a
tiny skip, as she thinks 'How much... is this going to be a real
physical?' She hasn't ever actually had a... a _full_ medical
before.... but that won't be happening here, certainly!

"What are you waiting for? Are you wearing a bra?"

"Y..y..yes."

"Then there should be no problem. Take off your jacket and blouse.
I am a Doctor you know. Or perhaps you would prefer me to call my
assistants."

'No, she thinks, it can't be _that_ sort of exam. Just her jacket
off, that's OK.' She definitely would walk out if things went too far,
so its just _silly_ for her body to start that.... 'Now stop that!'
she scolds herself sternly. This is _no_ place to start having those
nasty, demanding feelings... down there. Its not as if the doctor was
going to make her strip naked, then tease her... her sex with his
fingers until...

Shaking herself loose from that train of thought, despite the unwanted
flush spreading in her privates, Rachel stands up and slips off her
jacket. Folding it, she places it over her shoes. She slowly starts
to undo the buttons of her white blouse, working down from the top.

"Please hurry, Miss Lake. I don't want to be here all night."

Rachel hurriedly finishes unbuttoning the blouse and slips it from
her shoulders. She reveals a white, lacy bra. She folds the blouse
and places it on top of her jacket. She now stands in her white
bra with her grey suit trousers and bare feet. There is something
happening with her nipples, she can tell. 'Why is it that being told
to undress, even a little, seems to make her heart race so?' she
thinks. With her boyfriend, it was because she knew what it would
lead to, and before she had grown more mature she had so easily let her
body's desires lead her onwards. Thank God her foolish teens were
behind her.

"Please sit down."

The Doctor approaches her with a stethoscope. "Just keep breathing
as normal." He listens as she slowly inhales and exhales. "Now breathe
in deeply and hold." Rachel holds her breath for a few seconds before
the Doctor says "... and out." This continues for a while, breathe,
hold, out, and Rachel's mind is occupied with thoughts of those crazy,
sexist things her boyfriend had said. That women's bodies were made
by evolution to override the conscious mind and turn into sex-seeking
pleasure toys, given the right touches, the right rubbing and poking.
But she was a besotted teen, what did it prove if even those few times
she initially didn't want to do it, he'd soon had her naked and dripping,
thighs wide and welcoming, for whatever new game he'd thought of that
day.
Its all just a matter of will power, she thinks now, as the Doctor
taps her back, listening. She chose to let him do those things, and
now as an adult she'd never let anything gross like that happen. 

He takes the stethoscope off and puts it in his desk drawer.

"Please relax, Miss Lake, your heart rate is quite high. There is
nothing to be concerned about, its just a routine."

He then turns his attention to Rachel's arms. He strokes each one in
turn looking for any puncture marks or tattoos.

"Everything seems to be in order. Now stand up and remove your slacks.
I need to take a look at your legs."

She stands, raising her eyebrows in a private gesture of surprise.
'Trousers too! Hope I'm not showing a damp patch on my panties.'
She finds that the thought of him seeing that, causes an inexplicable
flare up of the heat between her legs. 'What would he think of me?!'
she wonders. 'Oh my, what if he noticed, and decided he really should
do a... a _full_ exam, in case I'm abnormal down there? Wetting myself,
he'd probably wonder why that was.' In dismay, she senses that in
fact, the thought seems to have precipitated that very problem, as
a slick dampness spreads down there with her movement of standing up
and removing her belt.

Somehow, the predicament preoccupies her mind as she unzips the
trousers, slowly lowers them while wondering how long she will have
to stand in panties and bra, and if she can hide the stain that long.
She steps out of the right and then left leg. Lifting her legs has
made the hot slickness even worse. She thinks it's lucky it's only her
over active imagination that's giving her these flushes - imagine what
would happen if she was _really_ aroused! A minute or two of her
ex-boyfriend teasing her sex, and she'd be sporting something far worse
than damp panties. Her clitoris is quite a freak of nature, and has
been a source of acute embarrassment to her. Thank God the dammed
thing never stuck out like that when she was little, or in her early
teens. After her boyfriend discovered for them both what a few minutes
of steady stimulation would make it do, and then made a habit of
frequently teasing it into near-painful hardness, it had seemed to
become over sensitised and begun to sometimes pop up all on its own,
and at the most awkward times.

Swimsuits for instance. After that started, she'd avoided going to
the beach at all. The thought mortified her, of people seeing her
stretchy swimsuit poking way out, the not so little point of aching,
rigid, supersensitive flesh more than an inch out past her labia.
Of course, her sicko boyfriend had found it amusing to play with
it endlessly, and even thought it oh so funny to get it hard as a
rock, just before dropping her off home to her parents of an evening.
Experimenting, he'd found it took ages to go away by itself, if he
decided not to make her orgasm at all that night. The bastard - he
knew she was a good girl at heart, who's parents had raised her to
resist the evil temptations of masturbation. So she'd lie in bed,
tossing and turning, hating him for the torment she was suffering,
yet simultaneously anticipating tomorrow night and its pleasures. 

She is folding her pants, holding them in front of her waist, inwardly
cringing at the thought of what the doctor would say if he saw _that_.
Despite her chaste life for the last five years, the thing has become
exasperatingly prone to popping up sometimes for no good reason at all.
Then lingering tormentingly for sometimes days, making her life a
hell of unwanted sexual arousal and lost sleep. Doubtless something
to do with all the over stimulation that bastard boyfriend had forced
on her.


This morning, if she hadn't told Julia and Gwen to stop talking about
that slut Francine and how she'd been fixed when the delivery boy had fled, apparently
taking with him the keys to the padlocks.... and how many people supposedly had
gone in and out of the storeroom before anyone reported the stupid woman who'd
let herself be chained in a disgusting spread X on the stationary shelving...
The vapid guessing gossip about how every scrap of her clothes had somehow entirely vanished from
the room and building. If the fool hadn't let herself be blindfolded in the first place,
she'd have been able to name the clothing thief. Assuming she'd have been able to pay any attention at
all, despite the... the... crotch thing. Supposedly still locked on her after the Fire Brigade
had cut her free from the shelving. 

The last straw was when Gwen breathlessly reported that in Francine's extended discussions with management regarding her future employment, going on all morning in the board room, she still hadn't been given any clothing. And they had plugged the... crotch thing... still locked on Francine, back into a wall socket.

She'd told them both to get out of her office. The stiring of that pulsing, stiff ache in her crotch
was something she had to stop right there. She did NOT want to give the question another moment's thought, of why Francine wasn't being fired immediately despite the disruption, scandal and damages. Why no one seemed to have involved the police. Whether the 'job performance interview' was still going on, even now in the afternoon. The board room video recording system...

Oh God, if she'd turned up to this .... this interview with her clitoris already in a state, she'd be dying now. The thought of having to strip, with her turgid clit exposed... she shudders, but can't seem to dispel the image.

"Please give them to me." Doctor Keir startles her with the words.

Rachel hands the trousers to the Doctor. He takes them and puts them
into the crate. Rachel stands in only her bra and panties. He crouches
down in front of her and runs his hands up and down her left leg.
He briefly touches her panties before moving his hands down to her
ankle. He repeats this examination on her right leg. He then moves
behind her and examines both her legs again.

"Very satisfactory," he said. "I'm so glad that you seem to have no
tattoos or obvious piercing. I'm afraid that we would have had to reject your
donation if you had."

She breathes an inward sigh of relief - the spot must not have showed
yet. Lucky! Its really starting to feel quite liquid down there,
inside. Puffy, too. By now her ex-boyfriend would have started taking
liberties, she thinks, remembering the feelings...

He stands up and walks over to the camera.

"At this point we will take take another set of pictures. Please come over and stand on the black cross again."

In only her white bra and panties, Rachel walks over to the white
screen and stands on the cross, facing the Doctor and his camera.
She stands to attention without being prompted, holding her legs
close together.

The Doctor studies the camera again before asking Rachel to turn to
her right. He again takes pictures of her from the front, left side,
back and right side.

"I see you are wearing some jewellery. Please remove your watch,
rings and necklace" he says.


Rachel reaches behind her neck and undoes the clasp of her necklace.
The Doctor holds his hand out and Rachel places it into his hand.
She then takes off her watch and the two rings she was wearing and
again the Doctor palms them. He walks over to the crate on the desk
and lays them on top of her trousers.

"Now I need to weigh you. Remove the rest of your clothing and step
on the scales."

Rachel is shocked. "W..w..what?" she stammered. Her heart pounds, and
a sudden fluttering clamping of her lower abdominal muscles contributes
greatly to her moisture problem. Her panties now definitely feel wet
against her sex.

"I'm in no mood to argue with you Miss Lake. Take your bra and panties
off so that I can complete your examination. " He looks at his watch.
"I need to be out of here in fifteen minutes. If I haven't finished
with you I'll have to get my assistants to come in and finish you for
me. I'm sure they'd like that."

Rachel walks over to the scales and stands on them. 'Perhaps if she
does remove them, just for this weighing, she can hide the dark
stain she knows the white material must show. Hold them in her hand
till she puts them back on after the weighing. No, wait... that..'
She has paused, thinking franticly. It also occurs to her that her
nipples must be a sight too. What to do?! But the idea of those
young layabouts being present... unthinkable!

"I can't take an accurate reading with you wearing clothes Miss Lake."

Rachel slowly reaches behind her and fumbles as she tries to undo the
clasp of her white, lacy bra. She lowers the strap on her right
shoulder then the left.

"Hurry please!"

Again that clench, and surge of rising sexual excitement in her, against
all her willpower. This is as bad as when her boyfriend would order her
around, foolish shallow minded teen that she was those years ago.
Why does this doctor's scolding produce the same animalistic urges?
She had thought herself grown out of such things, as a fully adult, independent woman.
Anyway, she can wonder about that later. Best just get this distasteful
affair over as quickly as possible. That's the last time she ever signs
something without reading the fine print!

But she still doesn't like the idea of him seeing the state of her now
aching nipples. She lowers her bra slowly, hesitating.
Before she has fully lowered it to reveal her breasts, the Doctor grabs it and
walks over to the crate.
Rachel folds her arms in front of her. The Doctor unceremoniously
tosses the bra into the crate. He turns and walks back, a trace of
irritation showing in his expression.

"The panties please!"

Rachel lowers her arms and reaches down to her panties, turning half
away as she tries to hide her nipples. The she realises that this just
gives him a profile view. Not wanting to show her rear as she bends to
drop the panties, she turns back to him, remaining bent over. As they
slide down, stretched between her shins, she can see that they do indeed
show a very noticeable dark, wet stain.

The Doctor looks her up and down as she slowly lowers the panties and steps
out of them. He holds out his hand, and her idea of retaining them meets
the difficulty of explaining why they feel damp in her (and his) hands.
Better to just pretend. She holds them out and the Doctor takes them.

For a moment, he rubs the crotch between thumb and fingers, without comment
but most obviously gauging their wetness. Expressionless as if reading an
academic paper, he crumples them up in his hand and tosses them the few
feet towards the crate. They follow a trajectory that demonstrates their
significantly damp weight, and land (not flutter) perfectly in the crate
on top of the bra. He turns to look at her, body language still showing
some irritation, but with a slightly scornful amusement flickering under
his distant professionalism.

Rachel stands there naked. Her right hand covers her pubic hair and her
left hand covers her right breast with her arm trying to cover her other
breast.

The Doctor ignores her and steps close to read the electronic display on
the side of the scales. He looks at the reading and steps quickly over to
the desk. He writes on the paper. Looks up at her, and comments, as if on
her weight, or hairstyles, or the time of day. "Well, we're getting there
now. You have a quite pronounced libido, Miss Lake." He taps the pen tip
against his nose for a moment, observing her. She feels herself blushing,
up her neck and face, as her sex pulses demandingly in her belly. There
is a feeling down there, that suggests her clit is somehow getting distinctly
fuller. Surely not! She realises that she is actually clasping her sex
quite firmly - maybe that is causing it. She jerks her hand away a little,
straightening it out over the V between her thighs.

He makes a "Hummm" sound, and carefully crosses a couple of check boxes
on the form. "We don't see that very often." He looks up at her as she
continues to try to cover herself.  "Please step off the scales now."

Still trying to keep covered, Rachel steps off the scales.

"Please put your hands on top of your head so that I can complete the
examination."

Rachel slowly raises her arms and places them on her head.
She is quite lost for how to react, but if this is the end of the exam,
and that was his only comment on her shamefully obvious problem, then
perhaps she should just go on with this strange experience. Its going to
be a nuisance later, at home, this awful excitement that she is feeling.
Perhaps she'll have to take a sleeping pill to get to sleep tonight.
As she has sometimes had to in the past. And actually, a few times
more recently, she admits to herself.

"Stand up straight with your legs about twelve inches apart. That's good."

She has automatically done as he asks, no longer paying much attention.
The whole thing is so embarrassing, she just can't wait to get out of
here. She is thinking more of whether this evening might be one of those
very rare times when she can't help herself, and gives in to her terrible
urges despite the agony of shame afterwards. She knows she won't be able
to stop thinking about this exam, and knows how outrageous her imagination
can get sometimes. She'll probably fabricate all sorts of bizarre events
in her mind. Like now, what's to stop him... she shudders, her sex clenching
at the thought of what he might do to her, standing legs-spread like this. 

She bites her lip, trying to stay perfectly still. Tries to think of how
much she would despise herself the next morning. Sleeping pill, definitely.

The Doctor moves closer. He walks around her looking her over. "Good,
very good." he says.

He moves around in front of her and cups her left breast with his right
hand. He then uses his left hand to knead the breast and stroke her nipple.
He does this slowly for at least a minute before moving to her right breast
and repeating the process. By this time she is nearly panting and her
nipples have gone from hard, to stone. 'If he is checking for lumps, does
he think her nipples are lumps?' she thinks, suppressing a moan.

He then runs his hands down her front, caressing her waist, stomach and
hips before running his right hand between her legs. Her mind flares an
alarm, and she jerks her body involuntarily, with a "Huff!" of breath.
She feels his finger tips drag ever so lightly and briefly along between
her puffy... lips... and knows they come away very wet with her fluid.
She can feel her clit is definitely rising too, and must be only just
still hidden between her folds. What if he sees it, oh what if... 

He stands there for a moment, contemplating her as if she is a maths
problem, his thumb rubbing back and forth across glistening fingertips.
'Perhaps thinking of some hydraulics exercise', she wonders. 'Or perhaps'
wondering what kind of blistering nymphomaniac she is.'

With a slight "Hmpf" he steps behind her, wiping his fingers pointedly
on a tissue from his desk. He squeezes her buttocks with both hands and
pulls then apart for a few seconds.
'At least she isn't wet there' she thinks, trying to fight down the sense
of shame and heat she feels.

He walks back in front of her and looks at her face. "Very well! Everything
seems to be more or less satisfactory. You have no tattoos, piercing or
evidence of needle punctures. Nothing else that would actually exclude
you. Your sexual responsiveness is rather far from norm, but then we are
aiming to include examples of all types.
I think we can accept your donation. We are most grateful."

"Please move back to the cross and I will complete your pictures."

Rachel lowers her hands and walks over to face the camera, too shaky to
trust herself to speak. 'Its finished, thank heavens!' This time the
Doctor says "OK" and Rachel turns to her right. Another "OK" and Rachel
faces the screen. Yet another and Rachel faces the door.


"That's it!" the Doctor says. "That completes your examination. I am happy
to accept your donation on behalf of the University. Please go and sit down
and I will finalise the paperwork."

He walks over and writes a few more comments on the piece of paper. Ticks
a few boxes before signing and dating the document. He places the paper
in a file and slips it into his drawer.

Rachel watches as he goes to the crate and snaps on a press fit top. It
looks like it might be fairly hard to remove, and for the first time a
trace of real fear stirs in her mind. 'Time to get out of here' she thinks
determinedly, yet when she asks "Can I get my clothes back now?" she finds
her voice quavers uncertainly.

The Doctor ignores her question. "Your donation has been accepted. You
are now officially the property of the University." He announces, as if
congratulating her on her achievement. Rachel finds his statement somehow
too difficult to process. Did she hear that right? 'Property'? No, he
must have said something else! While she tries to work it out she
doesn't know how to react, so she simply sits down as he suggested.

He picks up his telephone and dials an internal number. "Hello. Fred?
I've finished processing another new lab rat. Can you and Jeff come and
collect it, right now? I'm in a bit of a rush." He laughs at something
the other person says. "Yes, it is the cutie you saw earlier. Have you
anything better to do this weekend?" He smiles and puts down the receiver.

"The guys will be here in a moment to take you down to the cages in the lab.
I'm afraid it will be a few days before we sit down and decide what the
best use of your body will be. It won't be until Monday that Admin can post
the pictures on our web-site and then we'll have to wait to see if there
is any interest from other establishments. If we get a good offer for you
we may decide to sell you. I'd prefer to use you here but extra funding
is always welcome. Whatever happens your donation is very much appreciated."

Rachel springs up, astonished, intending to remonstrate with the Doctor, but
the door bursts open and the two young men enter and march quickly over to
Rachel. For a moment she is trying to cover her nakedness again, till one
of the men pulls her arms behind her and handcuffs her wrists. The other
picks up the crate from the desk.

"Let me go! What are you doing? LET ME GO!"

Fetching his jacket, the doctor looks back at her absent mindedly. "There
is also a more detailed baseline data set to be completed on you, as a
referent in your future use. Can take a week or two, depending. The guys
will begin on that tomorrow morning. Grad students... weekends, you know.
At least you won't be bored at all. Some of the activities are quite
lively, and the Q and A sessions that used to be so tedious and unreliable
go much quicker now, with the new lie detector and bio-interfaces."

"Baseline...? Future use! What data!?"

"Oh, tsk, you really should have read the contract. Your background, fitness.."
He has been shrugging on his jacket, and now continues, checking points on his
fingers. "...history of sexual experiences, cavity capacities, responsiveness,
fantasies and phobias, orgasmic profiling, preferences and aversions, body
measurements and mesh, management and instrumentation accessory fittings,
allergies to common medical materials, insert moulds, you name it."
He beams at her, proudly, buttoning up his jacket. "We do pride ourselves on
the completeness of our experimental donor program, catering to a wide range
of research disciplines and commercial requirements."

The two men march the protesting Rachel out of the door. The Doctor follows
them out, switching off the light and locking his office. He turns and walks
away in the corridor, the way she had come in. Naked, struggling in stunned
disbelief, she is frogmarched down the deserted passage in the other direction.

At the school front office, Keir pauses with Ms Pelton.
"Goodnight Ms Pelton. I'm off to the budgetary meetings at the ranch for the
weekend. Fred and Jeff can lock up down in the lab tonight. Will you be in
on the weekend? That one should be quite entertaining - high libido, classic
humiliation-arousal association, appears quite prudish, but easily commanded.
A long-term single too, and with apparently severe frustration consequent to
repressive sexual self-denial complex, if I'm not mistaken.

Very nice form too, you noticed? Its a certainty she'll go into one of the
experimental sexuality programmes, no cosmetics testing for that one.
Consequently I've marked her down for the full range of S-parameter baseline
establishment procedures. If you wish to assist over the weekend. Unpaid again,
I'm afraid, but you do enjoy these sessions don't you Ms Pelton?" He smiles knowingly.

Ms Pelton gives the doctor a cheerful smile, the first he's seen from her for
a while. "Well then, I expect I shall come in, Doctor. Goodnight."


                  ------- End of Part One -------