The Pathologist - 2

Sheetal, imagined with Stable Diffusion

Previously

If you haven’t read the first part yet, I highly recommend reading it before starting this. The story about Sheetal, is four part long, with each part being available early to Patreon members. If you don’t want to wait for each of the parts to come through, you can go ahead and read the entire story in the book! The last part of this story, will be contained exclusively in the book!

2

It was the first time that Sheetal and Nikhil were alone in a room. It was 5 PM, and Sheetal expected only one patient to show up to take prints of his reports. If Nikhil had shown up 30 minutes later, and she could have locked behind herself and the evening would have been over.

“So, you are the new girl?” Nikhil asked, resting his elbows on the tall desk.

Sheetal nodded, trying to stack papers which didn’t need stacking.

“Look up, when somebody’s talking,” he said firmly, almost like a tutor.

Sheetal glanced up, her eyes wider than usual. She’d not been talked that way by any man, till that point in her life. And Nikhil was probably a year or so younger than her.

“Are you comfortable with your training?” he asked.

Sheetal nodded, her eyes not meeting his. She rested her gaze on his chin.

“Are you dumb? Is this how you respond to customers? By nodding, and keeping your lips closed?”

As Nikhil said it, he did something that Sheetal was not expecting. He held her lower jaw and shook it. It wasn’t violent. In fact, it was almost playful. But it was a touch. She wasn’t expecting to be touched by another man, not that evening, probably never in her lifetime.

Sheetal was quiet. She blinked, without saying anything.

Nikhil grunted and said, “Maybe, I will have to talk with papa. We cannot have someone like you here, who can’t -”

“No sir,” Sheetal spoke almost immediately, “I’m sorry.” she stammered.

Nikhil sighed, “You have a sweet voice. You should speak often.”

“I’m just nervous,” she added.

Nikhil was quiet for a moment, and then gave her the stack of papers which he was holding, “Keep these here.”

Sheetal was giving the documents a cursory reading, when Nikhil said, “Chalo, show me what you have learned.”

Before Sheetal could respond, Nikhil locked the lab from inside, and started walking toward the collection chair, inside the cubicle.

Sheetal stood at her desk for a moment. She eyed the lock on lab door and then to the cosy collection cubicle to which Nikhil was asking her to come. She took a deep breath, adjusted her dupatta, and started walking toward the cubicle.

Nikhil was already seated, his arm outstretched.

“Do you want me to draw blood, sir?”

“Of course, not. I want you to find my vein,” Nikhil said, raising his sleeve.

Sheetal observed his muscular arm. She could see stray veins on his forearm. She looked at him once, and she could feel that piercing gaze, as if he wanted to see what’s beneath her kurta.

She walked in front of him, and leaned forward. Her dupatta slipped again, but she let it stay that way.

“Maybe, take off this off when you are doing your job,” Nikhil said, touching her dupatta.

“Sir?”

“You heard me,” Nikhil declared, “This will interfere with your work”. He stared at her. For a moment Sheetal’s eyes met his. She was scared, but there was something else. She was moist too.

She took off her dupatta, and kept it on the spare chair.

“Okay, now find the vein,” Nikhil said.

He sat there, with his arms and legs outstretched. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt, whose sleeves he had rolled up. Nikhil had a broad chest, and the way he sat on the desk, it made his stance broader.

Sheetal leaned forward. She took a deep breath, and touched the place just above his elbow, trying to feel his vein. She let her fingers roam around his skin. Touching his skin felt different from touching the skin of the patients. It felt more charged, more firm and yet smooth. Eventually, she found his vein.

“Here, sir,” she declared.

“Good, what if you don’t find it there?”

“Sir?”

“Some people have too much fat there, and you cannot find the vein there. What then?”

“Umm...” Sheetal was puzzled. She had seen that happen only once, and the girl who was supposed to train her, didn’t make a big deal out of it. She had found a vein on the hand, along the thumb. So, she started caressing the part near Nikhil’s thumb.

She found a vein, and pointed, “Here sir, this is --”

“Good,” Nikhil said. He was quiet after that.

Sheetal stood straight, a slight grin on her face, that she had passed the test. She was about to get her dupatta again, when Nikhil said, “I am not done yet.”

Sheetal stopped. She heard the chair moving, and then she heard something which made her head turn.

Nikhil was unzipping unbuttoning his jeans.

“Sir, what are you --” she started saying.

“Like I said, I am not done yet. Some cases may be more complicated,” as Nikhil said it; he unzipped his jeans, and pushed it down. As he was stepping out of his jeans, he added, “You can find the vein in all the normal places. What if I tell you to do something more complicated? What if I tell you to find a pulse, wherever I want to?”

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Sheetal didn’t respond. She was staring at his crotch. He still had the underpants on, but the bulge on his crotch looked menacing. She had seen Mohan in his underwear countless times, but his dick didn’t look like that in the underpants. She was intrigued. But she quickly caught hold of herself. She was married. She shouldn’t be staring at a man’s crotch, she should be protesting.

“Sir, this is inappropriate. This -”

“Are you going to teach me what is appropriate?”

“No sir -”

Before Sheetal could finish the sentence, Nikhil pulled down his underpants. In one swift motion, he exposed his manhood to Sheetal. He dropped the underpant near his jeans, and looked up. He caught Sheetal staring at his dick.

He wasn’t hard, but his dick flopped around as he moved.

“Come here,” he declared, as he sat down. He spread his legs, and got comfortable on the chair, his naked ass on the chair where countless patients sat to innocently give their blood for some lab tests.

Sheetal stood frozen in her place. A man had exposed himself in front of her. It was only the second dick that she had ever seen in real life. It was difficult to admit, but Nikhil’s dick looked better than her husband’s. Unlike her husband, Nikhil had a trimmed bush. His dick was already semi-hard, and it was bigger than what she was used to seeing on her husband.

“What are you waiting for? Come here!” Nikhil said, raising his voice.

Sheetal finally looked up from his crotch, and walked a few steps, standing between his legs.

“Find my pulse,” Nikhil said catching her hand, “here.”

Nikhil casually held her wrist, his fingers touching her bangles, and moved her hand over his bare crotch.

“Sir...,” Sheetal’s voice was low. She couldn’t remember the last time it had beat that fast. Maybe it was on her first night, when Mohan’s dick was grazing against her bare slit. She didn’t know what it would feel like to have his hard dick inside her. It was the same on the Friday evening, in that little cubicle, with the door to the lab locked from inside.

“Go on, do it. I know it is difficult, but it’s something I want you to do, to be convinced that you are fit for this work,” As Nikhil said it, he tightened his grip around her wrist. Her hand was hovering over Nikhil’s bare crotch. Her eyes were fixed on his naked crotch. Nikhil’s thighs weren’t as hairy as her husband’s. As he told her to do, he pushed his crotch toward her. She saw his dick twitch.

“But sir...,” Sheetal’s voice was even more feeble then. She didn’t know how to complete the sentence. She needed to work. She wanted to help Mohan, for him to be able to fuck her every night, like he had started doing in those days. He wanted him to cum inside her, to put a baby in her. But for all those things to be smooth, she would have to touch Nikhil’s dick, and find a pulse. She didn’t even know if it was possible.

Nikhil saw her thinking, and said with finality in his tone, “Look, I don’t like repeating myself. It’s either this, or you can leave from here now, and not show your face on Monday.”

Sheetal looked up from his crotch, her mouth slightly open, in the shock of the blatant blackmail. She wasn’t naive. It was not a test of her proficiency. She knew Nikhil simply wanted her to touch his dick, and she had a nerve-racking feeling that it will not stop at that. She was breathing hard. She would open her mouth to say something, and then stop, unable to find the right words.

“I am married, sir. I -”

“I know, which is why I don’t think it will be a new thing for you do what I am asking you do,” Nikhil caressed her wrist with his thumb. Sheetal felt that, and it sent a wave of sensation from her wrist, right up to her breasts. Her nipples agitated against the fabric of her bra.

A part of her felt guilty too. Did she give out a non-verbal cue that she liked his stares? Did Nikhil somehow know that she would get slightly moist when she would feel him staring at him? Did Nikhil know that the prospect of touching his dick was making her pussy burn with a forbidden desire?

Right then, Nikhil gave her arm a slight pull, bringing it inches above his dick. Sheetal leaned forward. She reached for her dupatta, only to realize that she had taken it off long back. Her kurta would give no hint of cleavage; she made sure that her tailor made it that way. And yet, with her other hand, she touched the collar of the kurta, and leaned even further, lowering her hand, till her fingers touched his dick.

She was surprised to feel the novelty of touch a new dick. Unlike her husband’s, she could feel Nikhil’s dick hardening almost instantly, growing every second. She started from his tip, and slowly made her way to the base of his dick. It was warm, almost too warm. She had spent many nights, with her face near her husband’s crotch. She didn’t remember his being so warm.

Sheetal took a deep breath, and told herself to stop thinking about Mohan. Whatever she was doing here, will stay in this cubicle. Nobody has to know. She would go back home, and will tell Mohan that she was starting her job independently from Monday. He would be happy, and later at night, she would suck his dick, and ask him to fuck her without a condom.

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“I think you should use both of your hands,” Nikhil said. Sheetal was suddenly brought back to the present. Her fingers were caressing Nikhil’s dick, touching its base, a futile attempt to find his vein. It was hard enough by then, to be erect. It looked menacing. She broke the promise to herself, and compared his dick to her husband’s. It was definitely thicker than her husband’s.

“Why are you touching your kurta like that?” Nikhil asked.

“I-”

Before Sheetal could finish the sentence, Nikhil got up from his chair, his hard dick dangling, and reached for the hem of her kurta. He started pull it up. Sheetal stepped back, her hands instantly reached to stop him.

Nikhil stopped, and sighed, “Okay, this is the last time I am saying this. You either do what I tell you to do, or you can forget this place. Do you understand?”

Sheetal was shocked, her gaze down, on his hard dick dangling around as he stood in front of her, naked waist down.

“Do you understand?!” Nikhil raised his voice. Sheetal quickly nodded.

Nikhil sat back on the chair, and said, “Take off everything.” As he said it, he took off his tee shirt, and threw it in the pile where his jeans and underpants had formed a puddle.

He stroked his dick once, as he added, “See, I am naked. It’s only natural that you are naked too.”

Sheetal blinked and took a deep breath. She ran her eyes on Nikhil’s bare chest. It was broad, with hints of muscles on his shoulders, his torso was taut, with almost no hair on him. He was slowly stroking himself, as he waited for her to undress.

There was no way back from here, Sheetal told herself.

Quietly, she turned around, thinking that it would be easier to undress that way, if she didn’t look at Nikhil stroking his dick. She took a shuddering breath, and reached for the hem of her kurta. Her bangles clinked, and her mangalsutra tangled with the kurta as she was taking it off. She kept the kurta where she had kept her dupatta. She could feel Nikhil’s gaze on her exposed back.

She was wearing a simple white bra. She had never thought anyone would see her in it, except Mohan. But there she was, tucked away in a cubicle, of a lab, locked from inside. She reached for bra hook; she unclasped it, and folded her arms to take the bra off. She looked down at her exposed breasts. Her nipples had betrayed her. They were hard, and relentless, tiny black islands in against her fair breasts. She kept the bra, on the same pile, the pile of her modesty.

She was loosening her salwar, when Nikhil said, “Turn around.”

Sheetal, imagined with Stable Diffusion

Sheetal paused for a second. It was futile, the whole exercise of taking off her clothes while turned away from Nikhil. She knew he would see whole of her anyway. She puffed her cheeks, and covered her breasts with her arms, and turned around slowly.

“Wow, didn’t know you were hiding all that,” Nikhil’s eyes were running wildly all over exposed upper body. As he said it, Sheetal saw him stroking his dick, a little faster by then. She broke the promise to herself again. Nikhil’s dick was longer than her husband’s, she thought. Her pussy had started pulsating harder by then, a warm feeling between her legs, that moved all over her body, especially her belly.

That day, she was wearing a black thread across her waist, something which she started wearing only recently, on the insistence of one of her mausis. It was supposed to bring prosperity to her household, to make her household happier. Nobody had seen her in that black thread, except her husband. The thread went around her waist, and rested against the rise of hips.

Sheetal looked away from Nikhil’s dick, and started loosening the knot of her salwar with one hand, while covering her breasts with the other. It was inadequate; her breasts were too big to be covered that way. She fumbled around with the knot for a moment, trying to untie it with just one hand.

“You will need both of your hands soon. Stop covering yourself like that,” Nikhil declared, while stroking himself.

Quietly, she let go of the over arm, exposing her bare breasts fully to Nikhil. She heard a sharp intake of breath, and from the corner of her eyes, she could see him stroking himself harder. She held the waistband of the salwar and started slipping it down. She leaned forward, feeling her breasts dangle away, and her mangalsutra prominently forming a frame below her face. She stepped out of the salwar, and kept it on the pile. The pile of her modesty had gotten to too tall to be stable by then. The salwar fell off, and Sheetal instinctively reached to catch it. In the process, her entire body jiggled, especially her bare big breasts.

When she looked up, she found Nikhil staring at the general area of her crotch. The last piece of clothing left on her body was her panty, a pink panty, which had been overused and faded in all these years. Mohan and Sheetal weren’t much into sexy lingerie; it was difficult to invest in lingerie, when you are saving money everywhere. Besides, by the time Mohan came to bed, she would any way be naked, waiting for him. With a shuddering breath, with her heart pounding against her chest, she used her thumb to peel away her panty.

She was stepping out of it, when Nikhil said, “Come here.”

She looked at him once, and then placed her panty away, and started slowly walking toward him, naked, with nothing on her, except a thread running along her waist, her bangles and her mangalsutra. Everything about her was bare – her shapely body, her bushy crotch, her perky large breasts, her hard nipples were all bared Nikhil.

Nikhil’s dick looked menacing, twitching even when he would let it go. She wondered what it would be like to touch it, when it was so hard, so big and so thick. She stopped herself from thinking further, about that. She felt guilty of looking forward to it. She was married. And yet, her body was betraying her. She was doing what the naked man was telling her to do. But she couldn’t help herself from letting her eyes wander over his firm body, and linger over his menacing erection.

When she reached near him, Nikhil splayed his legs wider, pushing his hard dick toward her. She touched it. She gasped at how hard he was. As she ran her fingers along his dick, she went over the veins, till she reached the base of his length. She was hunched over, as she did that, her bare breasts were right in front of his face. It seemed like an eternity ago, that she was worried about her kurta showing too much of her breasts without the dupatta.

“Your husband seems like a passionate man. These are from him, right?” Nikhil moved his finger, and placed it on one of the hickies that Mohan had left. It was the first time Nikhil touched her bare breasts. But what registered with Sheetal was the question if it was her husband who left.

“Yes,” she said, with a tinge of sullenness.

Nikhil chuckled. He caressed her breast, and cupped it. He then gave her nipple a small pinch. Sheetal had stopped running her fingers along his dick. Nikhil had of course noticed it, but he was busy tracing the love bites that her husband had left.

Mohan loved her breasts, and whenever he would be fucking her from top, he would invariably dig his teeth into her breasts, harder right before cumming. And recently, after she started working, Mohan had been especially passionate in bed. The pink love bites were all over breasts, new ones overlapping the older ones. Whenever she would notice them, she would smile, and consider them as symbols of her happy marriage. It had never occurred to Sheetal that anyone would ask about them. That anyone would put their finger on a love bite from her husband on her breasts.

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