The Lesbian Debt (Chapter 3) – The Mayim Clinic

Chapter 3
THE MAYIM CLINIC

The hardest bit of attending the Mayim Clinic was finding an explanation for Erica of why Laura was going out that night to a previously unmentioned appointment. Normally Laura and Erica did everything together – parties, clubbing, shopping, even doctors’ appointments. For Laura to be out at night without her lover was unusual to say the least, and for it to come up at short notice was suspicious.

She decided to stick close to the truth.

“I got a job offer,” she told Erica as they sat on the couch that afternoon. It was a Sunday, the end of the weekend, and Sunday afternoons and evenings were usually reserved for watching television on the couch, a home-cooked dinner, and then passionate lovemaking till they fell asleep.

“You didn’t tell me you were looking for new jobs,” said Erica suspiciously.

“I told you I wasn’t getting paid enough at my work didn’t I?” replied Laura. “I mentioned to people that if they knew of anything better, they should let me know, and then just now this came out. It’s a clerical assistant at some kind of research clinic. It’s night work, which sucks, but I should at least go and interview for it, right?”

Laura could see that Erica was torn. She didn’t like the idea of losing her lover to work in the evenings, but the idea of Laura earning a bit more and relying less on Erica’s paycheck was attractive. Laura helped her make up her mind by leaning in, kissing Erica on the lips, and starting to gently rub Erica’s tits. She knew Erica couldn’t think properly when she was horny.

“It’ll be fine,” Laura whispered between kisses. “I’ll get paid more, and I promise I’ll still fuck you when I come home. I’ll wake you up and then fuck you, if you’ve fallen asleep. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Laura’s hand was inside Erica’s shirt now, lightly pinching her nipples, and Erica was breathing heavily and was flushed.

“Yes,” gasped Erica.

“So it’s okay, right?” asked Laura, nibbling at Erica’s neck and massaging her breasts.

“Yes,” replied Erica.

And just like that, it was settled.

***

The Mayim Clinic was a modern-looking professional building on the outskirts of the city centre. It was built low to the ground, had an attractively landscaped garden, and looked for all the world like a suburban doctor’s surgery. At 6 pm it was already getting dark, but the Clinic grounds were well lit. Laura entered through sliding glass doors, and was impressed by a relaxing and well-furnished foyer overseen by a pretty female receptionist. Laura told the receptionist she was here for an appointment, and hoped that someone knew she was coming. The receptionist just told her to take a seat and wait.

Laura hadn’t known how to dress; she’d settled on a business suit with a short, professional skirt. She’d thought about how her blackmailer had wanted her topless in front of her computer, and wondered if maybe he wanted her to wear something slutty. On the other hand, he’d been fairly explicit about his other demands, and if he’d wanted Laura to further humiliate herself, surely he would have said something. She wasn’t going to demean herself more than she had to.

“He.” She thought about that as she waited. She had assumed her blackmailer was a male. People who abused women were so often men, right? But she supposed it could be a woman. As she thought it, she felt a little glow of warmth between her legs, and blushed. What was that about? Was she getting wet at the thought of being blackmailed and humiliated by a woman? She squeezed her thighs together tightly and tried to think about something else. And she decided she’d call her abuser “he” in future, to stop that thought occurring again.

Laura didn’t have to wait long. It had been barely ten minutes when a woman in a labcoat emerged from a doorway and strode into the waiting room, accompanied by two teenagers, also in lab coats.

“Hi, Laura,” said the lead woman, extending her hand. “I’m Dr Tara Windred. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Laura shook the hand. Dr Windred appeared to be in her late 30s. She was massively buxom – Laura estimated she must be at least an E cup – but nevertheless looked both intelligent and professional. She had black hair, pulled back in a bun, and elegant square-frame glasses. Her labcoat was open at the front, revealing a purple turtleneck sweater that accentuated her bosom by clinging and straining across its curves.

Dr Windred beamed at Laura. “These are my assistants, Amy and Royce. They’re here on work experience, but they know the ropes.”

Amy was a pretty, willowy girl with strawberry blonde hair, freckles, and an enticing smile, exactly the sort of girl that Laura found most attractive. Laura felt herself blushing as she said hello to Amy.

On the other hand, Royce was tall and fit with thick brown hair and well-trimmed but adolescent beard. He didn’t smile at Laura, and didn’t say anything, only nodding briefly to acknowledge her presence.

“Dr Windred,” said Laura, after she’d greeted the two assistants, “I have to say, I’m not actually sure what I’m supposed to be helping you with here.” She tensed up inside. She still somehow felt that this was going to turn out to be a brothel or a strip club, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

“Research,” replied Dr Windred. “Were you not told? You’ll be a participant in a study we’re conducting. It’s very generous of you to have volunteered; from what I hear, you’re exactly what we’re looking for.” She smiled. “Look, how about you go through to the prep room with Amy, and get ready, and then come to me in my office and I’ll tell you what it’s all about.”

Laura was far from reassured, but Amy was already leading Laura to the door at the back of the reception, and Laura didn’t want to embarass herself in front of the cute blonde girl, so she allowed herself to be led away. She saw Dr Windred and Royce heading for another door, and then she was out of reception and in a hallway.

The hallway further reinforced Laura’s earlier impression of a doctor’s surgery. It was clean, sterile and functional, without appearing cold or frightening in any way. It was painted in warm colours, with several doors leading off it. Amy took her to one such door, and together they entered, revealing what appeared to be a consultation room, with a bed, a privacy screen, chairs, a desk, and a sink.

“Okay,” said Amy.