The Gyneacologist's Table

My husband and I have been married for five years, he was a doctor at the local hospital and I worked for a call centre. Both he and I seemed like a perfect biological match because where I did not want children but had found previously I was allergic to both the pill and most of the drugs used in a chemical abortion, he had been sterile from birth. This lets us enjoy bareback sex the way nature intended but with absolutely no risk of my becoming pregnant.

A couple of years ago we had gone through a rough patch in our marriage, all couples do, and in the process of patching things up we discovered that the other had interests in certain fetishes. Mine was that I have a thing for doctors, with the white lab coat, the stethoscope and so on. James (my husband) had a bondage fetish; he really enjoyed tying me down and having his way with me. Luckily our two “kinks” were compatible, he would restrain me then do as he wished and all throughout whilst wearing his hospital gear. About three months ago we had managed to obtain a second hand gynaecologists table that James hospital were throwing out, it needed a bit of work but last week we finished repairing it back to a pristine condition with a few extra rings here and there as rope points.

When I woke up this morning my breasts felt tender and I was horny. I know this means my body is ovulating. I struggled to not play with myself throughout my shower as I had an idea forming. I fleshed out the details during breakfast, and then started to get the things I would need. First off, I called James and left a message on his voice mail saying I had a special surprise waiting for him when he got home and not to be late. Then I assembled all the bits and pieces and took them down to our basement where we had redecorated the room to be comfortable and stored our play things. The rest of the day went incredibly slowly as my imagination began to run away with what would happen tonight and maybe over the weekend as neither James nor I would have to be back at work till Monday morning.

Finally four pm arrived and I started to get ready, I took another shower and made sure every part of my body was scrubbed and clean. I decided to give James an extra surprise and carefully shaved off my pubic hair. I’ve never done that before but it just felt so good when I was drying off that I decided this could be a regular thing.

I moved down to the basement and took the cloth off our gyno table. I lit a few carefully placed candles to add some mood lighting to the room. Then I hopped on and put my legs in the stirrups. They really spread me wide open. Wider than I thought they would but it felt deliciously naughty. I took some straps we bought and managed to secure my ankles to the end of the stirrup arms. Images of me bucking and writhing flashed through my mind with me being unable to free my ankles. I could feel myself getting wet. We had added a waist and chest strap to our table for extra restraint so I fastened these next. The last step was to take some handcuffs and secure my wrists to the bar at the top of the headrest. I got one wrist in and managed to manoeuvre my other wrist with minimal issues into the other cuff.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.

That was it, I was fastened in and couldn’t move till I was released.
Our basement has no clocks, no windows and I hadn’t brought anything with me to tell the time. I have no idea how long I lay there with my imagination driving me crazy with lust. I could feel my juices dripping onto the seat. Finally I heard the basement door open and slow steps begin to descend. A pair of shoes appeared, then some pressed trousers and finally a bright white doctors jacket. James walked over to me and ran his fingers up my thighs and sides causing me to breathe in quickly.

One thing James likes to do once I am secured is tease me until I am willing to beg him to make to cum. He can be a real bastard about it some times but when he finally does let me come its so strong I see stars and its amazing. This time was no exception. He ran his fingers over my legs, my stomach, round my breasts, my arms, just about everywhere. Then he followed that up with small little kisses everywhere he had stroked. He mixed in the occasional warm breath blown towards either my nipples or my pussy. Next he started to kiss my nipples whilst playing with my pussy lips. I was breathing hard and trying to control my body in the hope that I could cum before he could pull away and leave me hanging, but he is too skilled for that and kept bringing me to the edge then stopping and letting me cool down before starting the whole process again. Eventually I broke down and began to beg him to let me cum, I offered to do anything, fuck him, suck him, anything.

He said that he would let me give him a blow job and if it was good enough he would let me have my release but if it was not up to standards he would tease me for another hour at least. He raised the bottom of the table and lowered my head so I was at the right height for him to walk up to me and just put himself into my mouth. I knew I had some effect because he was already hard when he reached me. For five minutes I put everything I had into that blowjob, I licked up and down the shaft, swirled my tongue around the head, nibbled gently in places. It felt like the guinness book of records world champion blowjob from my point of view with the effort I put in.

James abruptly pulled out of my mouth and was standing with his head cocked to one side. I started to ask why had he pulled out but he shushed me. Then he grabbed his jacket and started to head for the stairs. I heard nothing for a few minutes and was starting to get worried when I heard a crash. Again I couldn’t hear anything for a few minutes then I heard footsteps coming down the basement stairs. My relief turned to panic as from my awkward angle I couldn’t see much but I could see that the shoes coming down the stairs didn’t belong to my husband. Neither did the second pair.

Two large men approached me; they both had on tracksuits and were wearing ski masks so I couldn’t see their faces. They whispered something to each other then one went back upstairs. Moments later I heard more footsteps and three more men came down to the basement, one of them was carrying my husband who looked to be unconscious. They took him to a pipe that ran down the wall and using our own handcuffs secured him to the wall. To say I was scared would be an understatement.

I had horrible images going through my head of what they wanted and what they were going to do to us. The biggest one at least partially answered me; he unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. One thing I hadn’t realised because of the ski masks and gloves, they were all black. I was about to be raped by four black guys. He just stepped up between my spread thighs and forced himself into me in one thrust, if I wasn’t wet from my husbands ministrations earlier it would have hurt, instead it prompted the guy to start telling the others that I must have been looking forwards to it as I was wet for him. I started to scream at him to stop and get out but he reached forwards and slapped my face to silence me, every time I made a noise he hurt me so I tried to keep quiet. He thrust in and out of me for a few minutes whilst mauling my breasts and pulling my nipples but he pulled out before he came. The next guy came forwards and continued on where the first had stopped. Although I was appalled at what was happening to me, I could feel my pussy getting wetter. I was trying to block out the feelings but my body was ignoring my brain. Again this guy stopped before he came. This happened again with the last two guys, neither came in me. I was worried about pre cum but since they hadn’t cum I figured I would be fairly safe. The idea of being raped and spunked on my most fertile day was a very sobering thought.

One of the guys rushed off upstairs and I could feel drawers and cupboards being slammed open and closed. The intruder returned with some clear piping I had seen in the garage and a funnel. A funnel? What the hell was that for? He forced the end of the funnel into the piping and used some duct tape to secure it in place. They answered this question too. They forced the end of the piping deep into my pussy, till I screamed because whatever they were pushing was hurting. They used more duct tape to fasten the pipe/funnel to my legs so that anything they put in the funnel would flow down into my pussy. Realisation suddenly dawned on me and I tried to thrash in my bonds but I had done too good a job. I gave up and started whimpering as they laughed at what they were about to do. The first one stepped up and began jerking himself off over the funnel end. He grunted then started releasing cum into the funnel. It looked like it would never stop. James never cums that much. I was guessing but I think it would have filled a cup. The other three guys took turns and all came into the funnel. It looked like so much cum. It must have been thick because it was very slowly sliding down the piping. Three of the guys went back upstairs and I could hear drawers and cupboards being rifled again. Eventually one shouted down and the last guy left me alone.

It took about twenty minutes for the cum to reach my pussy. I tried to shout to James but he was out cold. I think I lay there for about an hour before he began to come to. He was disoriented at first but after a few minutes realised what had happened. All he had to do was come over and release me, then I could go wash the cum out of me but he didn’t have the key to the handcuffs he was wearing.

The postman found us the next afternoon; he came in investigating after finding the front door wide open. James told him where the keys were and he let us free. The cum had all flowed into me during the night so when James released me and helped me to my feet, nothing came back out. We decided not to call the police as it would be too humiliating for both of us.

Six weeks later I confirmed I was pregnant. My husband has been performing my pregnancy checks at home, lets face it, and we have the right equipment for it.
My mother thinks it was a miracle that I got pregnant. I know better.