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Message-ID: <55001asstr$1166055003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "artie m" <silli_artie@hotmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} <*> "Open Clinic" by artie (MF?)
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Date: Wed, 13 Dec 2006 19:10:03 -0500
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<1st attachment, "oc01.doc" begin>

Open Clinic
Copyright 2006 by silli_artie@hotmail.com
This work may not be reposted or redistributed without the
prior express written permission of the author.  A work of
fiction, meant for adults.  Read something else if you are not an
adult, or are offended by stories with sexual content.  Then
again, if all you're looking for is in-out, in-out, in-out, you
should probably read something else.  I welcome constructive
comments.  Enjoy.

Another full moon, another Open Clinic.  The barn was clean,
supplies and equipment ready, or at least as ready as I can be
for these things, and I'd gotten some extra rest the last few
days.  Open Clinics could be long...

"Okay, Joe, open it up," I called out.

I'm a veterinarian, out in the wilds of Arizona, well off the
beaten path, but still popular.  I'm good at what I do.  A
specialist, you could say, one of half a dozen or so around the
world.

"Joe!" I hollered again.  I didn't want to have to climb up into
the rafters where he spent most of the daylight hours.

"I heard ya!" he called.

"Thanks, Joe -- don't want to keep patients waiting," I told
him.

I looked over and saw him start the dance he does to open the
Portal.  Looks like he's got a bit of a cobweb in his antlers. 
He had a full rack, since it was the full moon.  Normally he has
stubs during the day, with more coming out after the sun goes
down.

Joe is my invaluable assistant for Open Clinic and our special
clients.  He's my translator, takes care of the Portal, helps
with client management, and also handles unofficial security for
the ranch.  We've worked together for over a decade.

Oh, Joe is a ... well, were-jackalope is as good as any
description.

As you know, there are roughly two different flavors of
were-beasts.  The ones you've probably read about have human and
were-phases, usually entering their were-phase on the full moon.
The others are those that used to be human, and through some
happenstance, got changed.  Some can still go back to human form,
some can't, and many don't bother.

In Joe's case, he was a powerful local brujo, or witchdoctor, a
long time ago.  Unfortunately,  Joe pissed off the wrong
entities, and they turned him into a were-jackalope.  But these
things have a way of balancing out -- Joe became more powerful,
and essentially immortal.  Well, unless someone picks him off
with a silver bullet.

Again.

But that's another story.  Joe and I met when a local managed to
nick him with a handmade bullet that had enough silver in it to
do some damage.  Joe had been up on top of a ridge, singing away
after an evening of shagging the locals (Joe is a sex fiend; we
have a very strong local jackrabbit population thanks to Joe).  A
local got lucky, and Joe got unlucky.  Another friend found him
and brought him to the Clinic.  We've been friends ever since. 
Mostly friends.

Now you may think this is a load of crap, jackalopes and such. 
As Joe says when he hears such, "They don't believe in me?  Well,
I don't believe in them either."  Jackalopes are actually pretty
common, through the Americas and in Europe through to Asia. 
Joe's German cousins are known as wolpertinger.  Oh, you may hear
a tall tale of one being spotted in South America being chased by
a bear -- that story got it wrong.  It was the bear that was
being chased.

"Ya got one coming in!" Joe hollered.

I looked to the Portal as a large lizard appeared.  Large --
almost two meters in length!  The lizard saw me, flicking his
tongue.  He saw Joe, and moved a bit, coming up on his legs...  I
smiled -- someone's going to learn a lesson.  Joe's eyes glowed
as Joe made contact with our visitor (convincing him that Joe was
not on the menu).  The lizard let down with a hissing sigh.  Not
only is Joe a great translator, he's great at crowd control. 
Yeah, I saw gashes along one flank; they didn't look good.

"Were-komodo," called Joe.  "Disagreement with his mother-in-law
over a goat.  Left side hurts."  Joe laughed, almost a yodel;
must have been a good one.  "We could be cousins," Joe told me. 
"A family of witchdoctors on an Indonesian island.  They don't
know who they pissed off, or how, but they sure know somebody was
upset with them!"

"Okay, take him to Carnivore 1 while I check records.  Were- but
not dark path?" I asked.

Joe led our first client off to the scale and then to one of the
rooms for large carnivores (we try to separate carnivores from
herbivores; better for repeat business).  "Yah, sounds like an
okay guy," Joe told me.

Quick check on my computer as I started the workup.  Hadn't seen
any were-komodos.  Had a few were-crocs from Egypt, as had my
colleagues.  One dark path, the rest good blokes.

"One forty kilos," Joe called in my head.  "Nasty stuff on the
left flank."

Okay, heavy gloves, test kit, silver plated needles, spider silk.
 What do I do if he has an infection?  Don't want to use "normal"
antibiotics; those would hurt his internal crop.

Ah well, another challenge.  I made sure I was protected --
triple gloves, the inner ones dusted, flak jacket with splash
guard, full face shield and redundant eye protection underneath.
Their saliva is full of venom and septicemia-inducing bacteria. 
And his mother-in-law is worse?

Joe helped with the client interview, as usual.  Healthy, no
problems other than a bitchy mother-in-law.  It was his damn
goat, and just getting ripe after sitting dead in the sun for a
few days.  He was minding his own business and having a snack
when she comes along and fangs him in the side and whacks him a
few times for good measure.  I remembered my EMT days.  The ones
that rolled in shot or beaten were always "standin around minding
my own business when some dude..."

I palpated -- didn't feel like any ribs were broken.  He'd need
sutures, though, and the wound needed cleaning out.  Other than
that, a good looking beast.  "I think he could convince the
Wilson's to get rid of the damn geese, what do you think?" I
asked Joe.

Joe chortled.  "That would be fun to watch.  Could take care of
their yap-dawg, too."

"Now Joe, that's being cruel -- the fluff would tickle his
throat."

Joe chortled more.  We agree on a lot of things.

"Let's do some rinsing first," I told Joe.  Joe conversed with
our client.  "Go ahead," Joe told me.

I started out gently; don't want to surprise anyone here.  Rinsed
the gashes with sterile saline, and picked out debris.  Our
client remained nice and still.

"Okay Joe, I'm going to use the tester.  Tell him to watch out
and let us know."

I picked up the test spray.  I've got a wonder drug.  It's an
analgesic, anti-inflammatory, anti-biotic and anti-viral,
anti-anything pretty much.  Promotes healing.  In larger doses
it's an anesthetic.  Great stuff.  I have a light dusting of it
in my gloves as a prophylactic.

Fairy dust.

Of course there are a few problems.  Supply can be tight, but
I've got good sources.  The real problems are with the patients.
Those from the left-hand path, the dark side if you will, such as
vampires and some were-wolves, can't tolerate it.  Burns like,
well, hell.

So I use a tester, very dilute, with each client, just to make
sure.  You never know.  Treated a were-rat a few years ago,
couldn't tolerate it at all.

Sprayed a little on an uninjured spot.  "How's that?" I asked
Joe.

Joe checked with the client.  "Didn't feel it."

I spritzed one of the minor gashes; he moved and let out a hiss
reminiscent of someone slashing a truck tire.

"Any problem?" I asked Joe.

"He says that feels good; doesn't hurt any more."

That was good news.  "Okay.  I'm going to have to stitch him up.
Let him know I'm going to try the needles."

"I already did -- he says nothing can be worse than his
mother-in-law."  Joe yorped in laughter.

I tried a standard suture needle; nothing, not surprising.  I
picked up one of the specials, and it worked fine.

That's another aspect of working with were-clients.  Normal
instruments, hypodermics, scalpels, suture needles and such,
don't penetrate.  But silver plated ones do.  I sprayed more
fairy dust solution into the lesser of the wounds and closed it
with heavy spider silk.  Like stitching up a wallet or a pair of
boots, except this one could still bite.

Of course using silver with left-hand path clients causes other
problems...  But there's a workaround for that; you use silver
instruments that have been washed in the urine of a whore. 
That's been known for many centuries.  The modern problem is how
to maintain sterility.  When you think about it, it isn't
surprising that the undead in particular have problems with
sepsis.  And you can't just boil the urine to sterilize it; that
destroys its useful properties.  But that was solved by a Russian
in the 1950's, using irradiation.  We currently have a European
colleague who picks up stock in Amsterdam, processes it in an old
Russian device for sterilizing seeds (Cesium 137), and
distributes the product.

But that wasn't a problem here.  I was merrily spraying and
suturing.  "Could he try being nice to her?" I asked Joe.

Joe yorped in laughter after a bit.  "He says she's impossible --
he tried for years, but no matter what he does, it's not good
enough.  Not fat enough, or too fat, not ripe enough or too ripe,
you know I don't like rats, why don't you ever catch rats.  You
know how it goes."

"I think I do, Joe -- tell him I feel sorry for him, but if he
can't make nice, he should stay away from her for a week or so
until the sutures fall out."

"Already gave him the usual rundown, boss -- Ooh!  Another one
coming in, you're on your own!"  Joe hopped down from our client
and out the door, clanking his antlers on the door frame as he
hurried out.

"Thanks, Joe," I muttered under my breath.  I finished my repair
job, and gave the sutured areas a little more fairy dust.  He
moved a little on the stainless steel table.  I guess that hiss
was contentment.

I moved to my patient's head.  "I don't know if you can
understand me," I said, enunciating my words, as my notes said
they were somewhat hard of hearing.  "The sutures should fall out
in a week.  Live well."

He nodded his head, hissing and flicking his tail a bit.  I moved
out of the way so he could go down the ramp and out to the
Portal.  Don't think I'm going to discuss fees with him...

Joe met us on the way and led him to the Portal.

He stopped a few meters away, moving his head.  He turned, opened
his mouth (lots of teeth), and started gagging.  He worked up a
good one, his whole body lurching.

Ah, payment for services rendered!  He coughed up a nice looking
gold Rolex, complete with hand and forearm.

"Thank you," I told him.  I guess Joe translated, as our client
hissed, then turned back to the Portal.

"He want the arm back?" I asked Joe.

Joe had silent conversation.  "Nah, we can keep it -- not enough
meat."

"Live well, my friend," I called out to him.  He entered the
Portal and vanished.

Picked up the arm, popped the watch off and dropped it in a tray
to clean.

The arm and my contaminated things went into the disposal
barrel.

Joe looked amused.  Wasn't sure I liked that.  Didn't think it
was the method of payment, somehow.  "What's up, Joe?  Did we
have a satisfied patient?"

"Oh, him?  Yah, he's feeling great.  There's a water buffalo he's
been after for a week or so, but hasn't felt good enough.  That
sucker is lunch!"

That didn't explain why Joe looked so frisky and amused.  Was his
prick showing?  "Okay, Joe, who came in while I was finishing
up?"

Joe let out a barely suppressed yorp.  "Yeti in the H room.  She
has a minor problem, nothing you can't handle on your own..."

Okay, why was he evading me?  "She speak English?"

"Better than me," Joe answered.

I hadn't seen a yeti in a few years; the last had been a
sub-juvenile male with a nasty foot laceration.  Come to think of
it, he'd spoken superb English, picked up from listening to the
BBC.

"Okay, Joe, tell her I'll be there in a couple of minutes.  I
want to wash and take some notes first.  Get me her height and
weight."

Joe hopped off, yorping to himself.  Yeah, his testicles had
descended.  He probably hasn't screwed anything in what, ten
hours?  He's way overdue...

Scrubbed up, did my notes on the were-komodo, and looked up yetis
in my database.  "Height one ninety," Joe called in my head,
"weight eighty eight kilos."

A big girl!  Standard nitrile gloves and safety glasses should do
for this one.  I got the general cart for our human-shaped
clients.  Another crossover from my EMT and paramedic work.  But
that's another story, how I got on this weird road...

I knocked on the door, and after hearing a feminine, "Yes?" I
opened it and pushed in the cart.

I closed the door, introducing myself as I turned.  "I'm Doctor
Harris.  How are..."

She was sitting on the exam table, big and beautiful.  Six feet
plus, covered in the softest silvery-white fur I've ever seen. 
Huge breasts with pink nipples barely showing, no, showing a
little more.  Her fur still showed a shapely waist and hips. 
Strong legs, and of course huge feet.  Deep blue eyes.

And radiating sex; I could feel it, smell it.  I picked up the
fairy dust sprayer and gave myself a shot up each nostril to numb
that path, at least a little.  The glow hit my head and helped
some.

"How are you doing?" I asked softer.  "What brings you all this
way?"

The way she moved, I could tell she was in pain.  "I have a ...
bump, down there," she told me, wincing.

"Okay, we'll take a look," I told her.

I went through the usual questions as she got comfortable, doing
a thorough primary survey including pulse and blood pressure,
then had her recline.  Brief secondary survey, trying not to
enjoy running my hands over her too much...  I opened the side
doors on the table she was on and got out the ob/gyn stirrups. 
Used them once or twice a year.  Her bump had been growing over
the last month and a half or so, and in the last two weeks gotten
to the point where it hurt to walk.  I had her scoot up a bit,
touching her shoulder, so I could put the stirrups in place.

Good grief, she was beautiful!  And that was from the side!  When
I stepped between her legs, putting in the stirrups and guiding
her feet into place...  I had to turn the stirrups around, as
they weren't meant to hold feet her size.

I could feel the heat radiating from her core, and the sight of
that so soft fur...  Thoughts of jumping her.

"Let your knees out a bit please, dear," I asked.

Oho, I think we have a problem...  I turned on my exam light.

Another flashback to my days as a military medic, Debbie in our
squad coming to me off hours complaining of "a rash..."  Pretty
woman with one of the nastiest cases of a sexually transmitted
disease I'd seen.  She was lucky that it wasn't resistant, and
antibiotics cleaned it up.  I gave the whole squad shots for "the
rash" just to be sure.  Became a code-word for us.

And my sexy yeti friend had a large red swelling along the lower
left margin of her vagina.  No signs of discharge, and my nose
was numb so I couldn't tell if she was hiding rotten fish in
there.

"I see some swelling, dear.  I'm going to touch you, gently, to
confirm.  Is that okay?"

"Yes, I understand," she said with a sigh.

"Here we go," I warned her.  "Please let me know if I'm hurting
you."

I palpated gently, working around the margin from the right side
to the left so I had a differential to work with.  Oh, what a
pleasant ride she'd be!  As I worked up along the right side, her
nether lips blossomed and her jewel stood out, so inviting.  I
was glad my nose was deadened, but even then, I wanted to taste
her...

Yes, along the left margin, a substantial subdural swelling,
confirmed by a gasp and tightening of her muscles.  Checked with
a speculum, no signs of discharge in a love tunnel that was
calling to me.

I returned to the problem area.

"Yes, right there, dear.  You have a swelling, perhaps an
inflamed duct.  I'm going to swing a light over to take a better
look.  How are you holding out?"

"I'll make it," she said bravely.

I swung the magnifying light closer.  In a human, I'd call this a
textbook Bartholyn's cyst.  Comparing the two sides, yes, you
could almost see where the duct on the left side was plugged, the
distended duct narrowing suddenly.  I palpated it gently.  Yes,
plugged duct, with a swelling about the size of a robin's egg. 
That's got to hurt!  The normal duct looked good sized, as did
the face of the plugged duct, ignoring the swelling in the area.
I thought for a moment.

I swung my stool around to her head.  My but her breasts looked
delicious...  She turned her head to look at me.

"Don't frown," I told her with a smile.  "Down near the bottom of
your opening, on either side, you have small glands that provide
lubrication."  Glorious lubrication, I'm sure...  "They connect
to the surface through tiny ducts.  The duct on the left side is
plugged up.  Now this is not from anything you have done -- it
just happens some times.  Do you have hot springs nearby where
you could soak?"

She nodded.  "Yes, but I haven't done that in a while."

I nodded.  "I'm not saying that's what caused this.  But in the
future, spending some time in one might help.  Here's what I
recommend for today.  I'd like to put a hot compress on you for a
few minutes, and then clear the duct.  I have a number of
approaches to try, and I promise to use the least painful  first.
 Before I start, I can give you something to help with the pain.
Would you like that?"

"Oh yes, please," she agreed, sounding strained and relieved at
the same time.

"That's what we'll do, then." I stood up and patted her on the
shoulder.  Even through the gloves, her fur was so soft...  "I'll
be back in a moment.  Just relax, dear -- you're going to be
fine."

I left the room.  I spotted Joe sitting up on one of my
bookcases.  He chortled.

"I'm going to put your head on the wall in my study, and use your
flea bitten fur to polish my boots," I told him.

He yorped back, "Y te quiero tambin, mi hermano..."

I moistened a hand towel and popped it in the microwave to warm.
While that was going, I pulled down my Merck manual and reviewed
things.  Yeah, use a blunt tipped needle, and a bit of pressure
on the plug.  Then it's catheterization, and last gasp is lance
plus marsupialization.

Gathered the little vacuum setup and a catch tube -- if that
thing cuts loose, it's going to spray, and something told me the
contents, if not pus-ridden, could have other uses.

Treated a chimera once, a very rare male one, who came in with an
impacted and abscessed anal sac.  The damn thing cut loose while
I was reaching for an instrument.  Talk about rank!  Took me a
week to get rid of the stench, and during that time I couldn't
get within five meters of a herbivore -- one whiff of me and
they'd take off for the hills!

Beep beep -- flipped the towel in the plastic basin and gave the
microwave another 30 seconds.

Added a large mask to use for her pretty face, and the modified
sprayer to the tray, a piece of very small tubing.


Wheeled things back to the treatment room.  Joe was nowhere to be
seen.  Good.

"How are we doing, dear?" I asked.

"I've been better," she admitted with a sigh.

"I don't see many of you," I told her.  "The last was a
youngster, a few years ago, with a nasty laceration..."

"That was my cousin," she said.  "He recovered quickly, and he
hasn't stopped growing!"

I prepped the nitrous oxide and oxygen, putting the mask on the
end of the hoses.

Stepping between those inviting legs again...  "Lend me a hand,
dear, and hold this for me.  Is that too hot?" I pressed the
towel gently in place.

"Oh, no, it feels quite nice!" she sighed.

Did I see those hips rock a couple of times?

I stepped to the side again, checking the tray.  I was set up. 
Ah, plug in the vacuum pump and the catch tube.  "I'm going to
start up a little machine down here, don't let the noise frighten
you," I said, and switched it on.  She didn't budge, and yes, she
did swirl her hips every so often.

Back to her side, I showed her the mask.  She looked so comfy --
it would be so nice to curl up with her...  "Now, dear, I'm going
to put this mask on your face.  It will help a lot with the pain.
 You may feel light-headed, even giddy.  Don't let that worry
you.  Just breathe normally, and when I ask, I want you to exhale
completely, then take a deep breath for me.  Could you do that
for me now?  Exhale completely..."  Wow -- of course, you need
large lungs at that altitude...  "Now inhale, good!  Just relax
and breathe normally with the mask in place, and if you feel
pain, you need to tell me, okay dear?  There's no need for you to
go through undue pain."

She nodded.  "I understand."

I held the mask to my face and took a breath, 30% nitrous plus
oxygen.  Then I slipped it over her face, placing the elastic
band behind her head.  What pretty lips, pretty at this end,
too...  "Breathe normally, dear and relax..."

After a few breaths I got the fairy dust sprayer and slipped it
into the intake tube.  I told her to exhale, and she did...  I
could have gotten bonus points from my colleagues by measuring
her lung capacity, but I didn't have the instruments.  On her
inhale, I gave her a good spray of fairy dust, and another... 
"Inhale and hold it, hold it!" I told her, moving between her
legs as her eyes fluttered.  I kicked the nitrous mix to 50-50.

Moved her hand and the towel; the area looked nice and pink, her
jewel incredibly inviting.

But there's work to do...  Swung the magnifier back in place,
picked up the suction tube and the syringe.  Inserted the blunt
tipped needle into the duct, down, down, yes there's the plug,
pull back the plunger in the syringe to apply suction on the
plug, back out...

Got some, but not all of it.  Expelled the plug into a dish and
went for a second round.

Got it!  And I was rewarded with at least ten cc's of crystal
clear fluid!  I put the syringe down, and shifting hands,
palpated the area, encouraging drainage.  I also encouraged
moaning.  The duct on the other side was leaking -- I used
suction on it briefly, massaging that side as well.  Both sides
felt about the same.  I pressed harder on both sides.  A little
fluid and more moans, her hips moving.

"Am I hurting you, dear?" I asked.

She moaned, and it wasn't in pain.  It would be so nice to strip
down and ease myself into all that fur...

Nah, not with a client.  I know better.  So, do I put in a drain?
 If I put in a drain, I have to take it out again, and it will
irritate her and possibly lead to more infection.

"Just about done, dear, one more step."

I snipped my small tubing in half, lubricated the ends, and
slipped a piece into each duct; both went in easily.  A little
more leakage, cleaned up with the suction.  Opened two disposable
syringes and loaded each with half a cc of my cure-all, a
broad-spectrum antibiotic mixed with fairy dust, new and old. 
One in each side and pull the tubing, massaging each side
gently.

Might not have been the right thing to do -- her hips were going,
and she was making a lot of noise.  I'm sure the dissociative
effects of the nitrous and the fairy dust didn't help any.  Drop
my pants and slide in...

"Almost done, dear -- you can do it."  If you can do it, so can
I...  Even though I know I could touch that jewel of yours, and
push you over the edge...  Fingers, or better yet, my tongue...

I refolded the towel to get a wamish spot, and put that in place.
 "Hold this, dear," I said, putting her hand over it.  She
clamped it in place.

I stood and switched her to pure oxygen.  Cleaned up the tray a
bit, capping the collection tube.  Nice and clear.

Moving to her side, I took a wrist, taking her pulse.  Strong and
fast!

She looked at me with such longing in her eyes...

"Would you like me to leave you alone for a few minutes, dear?" I
asked.

She sighed so mightily!  Then she smiled and laughed.  "No, that
won't be necessary."

I chatted with her describing what she should do over the next
week, and longer term, reinforcing that I didn't think this was
the result of anything she'd done or not done.  I took her blood
pressure and pulse again, much lower.  She let me repeat my
survey; I explained we seldom saw her kind, and the more we knew
about them when healthy, the more we could help when needed.

She smiled and told me their group was pretty healthy.  One
uncle, quite old, had problems with his teeth, but didn't want to
do anything about it.  I told her I had a colleague down near
Alice Springs that specialized in dentistry, and he was very
caring and gentle.

She put a hand on mine and asked, "As gentle as you?"

I smiled and put a gloved had on her shoulder.  I could still
strip and hop on...  "We do what we can to help," I told her.

She sighed again.

She shuddered as my fingers touched the side of her face,
slipping off the elastic band holding the mask in place.  I
turned off the oxygen.

"In a few days, you'll be as good as new," I said.

She sat up with a sigh.

I stepped closer.  "Don't stand up right away; wait a moment."

She nodded, smiling.  "I may come back to visit in a few weeks?"

"That's fine -- send a message and we'll open the Portal for
you."

"Or you could visit," she said softly with a smile, adding "I'd
keep you warm..."

Then she stood up and wrapped her arms around me, holding me to
her.  I was engulfed in soft fur, my head between full breasts,
her scent filling me.  She squeezed me, and I held her.

She let go and laughed.  "Yes, I'll be back in a few weeks..."

I peeled off my gloves and took off the safety glasses.

And as I turned, she pulled me close again.  My hands touched her
fur.  A powerful hand pulled me to a nipple, her arms wrapping
around me.  I started to suck, receiving a taste of heaven, and
she moved my head between her breasts, holding me there.  Her fur
was so soft, her scent so dizzying...

She let go of me; I staggered back, my pants tented.

She shook her head.  "Ah, and I was being so good...  I'd better
go.  Thank you, again."

I smiled.  "Yes, you should -- but please return."

We walked to the Portal.  Joe was sitting off on a different
bookcase, trying to look uninterested.

She gave me a quick but strong hug, stepped into the Portal, and
vanished.

"What is the matter with you!" Joe yelled.

I turned and laughed.

"She wanted it so damn bad!  She needed it and so did you!  Why
didn't you do something!"  He was hopping up and down.

I laughed some more.

"If you couldn't see it, I sure could!  She was ready to grab
you, and I thought a couple of times you might actually show some
sense and do it!  What is the matter with you humans!"

"Joe, she'll be back.  I'll wait."

He shook his head.  "She'll be back...  And you'd better be
really rested, and have plenty of that dust handy..."  He
stopped, turned his head as if listening, and added, "Big and
nasty coming our way!"

Usually our clients arrive in the Portal without a sound.

Some clients however...  The room lights flickered, the room
groaned, and off to the side of the portal -- Johnny!  He was
bent over, smoke coming from his mouth, and his right hand? 
"Burns!" he wheezed.

I moved quickly to him, taking him to the big sink, opening a
cabinet and grabbing a liter of whore urine.  I doused the spots
on his hand, then irrigated his mouth.  He nodded; must be
helping.

"Can you rinse your mouth, swish some around?" I asked.

He nodded, tilting his head back a bit as I squirted in more.

"Don't swallow, just rinse, until I know what's going on," I told
him.  "Does that help?"

He nodded, swirling the stuff around in his mouth.  He spat it
into the sink and said hoarsely, "Helps, more..."

I squirted more in his mouth and he swirled that.  I doused his
hand a bit more.

Johnny is an old client and friend.  He's also a vampire.  For
the last hundred years or so he's been living in the Little Italy
section of the Bronx.  I've seen him a number of times in the
last decade.  I help him and he helps me.  This wasn't the worse
I'd seen him, but he's looked better.

A few more rinses, and I had him gargle -- but don't swallow!

"You better?" I asked, hand on his shoulder.

He nodded.  "Yah.  Hoo!  That was nasty!"  He shook his head, and
his whole body.

"What happened, Johnny?" I asked him, pulling up a stool to sit
on.  Takes something pretty strong to get to a vampire,
particularly one who's been around as long as Johnny.

He rolled his eyes around, making faces.  "Hoo!  Hey, Doctor
Bob...  Sorry for comin' in like dat.   I was out lookin' for a
snack, you know, tried this new place, dance club with health
drinks.  Skinny chicks, model types, yah know?"  He gave me an
evil grin.  "Thought I'd watch my diet, lower fat, cholesterol,
and all dat..."

I laughed with him.

"So this chick, she's comin' on pretty strong, and I didn't even
do the eye thing yet, and I'm only lookin for a snack mind ya,
she offers me this drink, health stuff.  Not even a sip!  Burned
like hellfire!  I spit it out and you see what it did to my
hand!"  He waved his hand, which was restoring quite nicely. 
"Hoo, I got out of there as fast as I could, and came here."

"So you didn't swallow any of it?" I asked, quite curious.

"Nah!  Didn't get past the front of my yap!  Did it hurt my
teeth?  They take a while to regrow, and damn, I'm hungry!"  He
opened his mouth wide for me to look.

I pulled the little flashlight out of my pocket and looked in his
mouth.  "Some blistering, but looks like it's clearing up, and
your equipment looks fine.  What did you drink?"

Johnny shook his head.  "Some health nut thing -- fruits juices,
amino acids, colloidal water something."

I shook my head.  "Colloidal silver!  That would do it!"

He looked shocked.  "She tried to poison me!  Da skanky bitch!"

I shook my head again.  "And if you'd snacked on her later,
Johnny, you'd be really hurting -- if she was drinking that crap
she had sliver particles floating around in her system."

He made a face.  "I should stick to the fat chicks."

"Let's hear it for size tens," I agreed with him.

"So is this colloid thing something new I've got to worry about?
That was nasty, and if I'd been ... that woulda really hurt!"

I shrugged.  "As far as I know, it's a fad, and pretty
discredited."  I looked at my liter container of whore's urine;
probably had eighty to a hundred cc's left in it.  "You can take
this with you, maybe carry a little vial around -- put a drop in
a drink if you're worried."

He laughed.  "Like some of the Hispanic chicks carry vials of
holy water?  I like it!  Give them a squeeze or two, do the
glowing eyes thing and make 'em come, and they beg for it! 
Why..."

Joe hollered, "We got more company!"

I turned to the Portal.  What next?

Al appeared, looking shaggy and tired, really tired.  Getting
gray around the hooves?

He looked at me, then Johnny.  He looked at Johnny for a moment,
then pointed and spat out something in Greek.  Sounded nasty.

Johnny laughed, and answered in kind.  The two approached and
pounded each other on the back, trading what I expected were more
insults between long-lost friends.  I looked to Joe for
confirmation.

He scratched with a back paw.  "Yah, old friends -- dick-sucker
and sheep-shagger."

Al is a satyr, half man, half goat.  He even smelled tired; he
usually had a sharp pungency about him.

"Al, what brings you by?" I asked as the two of them stopped
pounding on each other, standing there grinning.

He looked at me.  "You'll help anybody, won't you," he said,
giving Johnny a cross look.

"And I'm glad he will," Johnny said.  "I was a-hurtin tonight!"

"You know each other?" I asked, hoping for a story.

"Oh yeah!" said Johnny, "we met ... a long long time ago! 
Haven't seen you though for a couple centuries, somethin like
dat, yah?  Argos?" he said, looking at Al.  "You lookin' good,
sheep-shagger!"

Al smiled, a little less tired a smile.  "Doing okay.  Guess
things aren't so bad if you're still around."

I pulled up my stool again.  "Hey, sit down if you want.  Good to
see you both."

Joe let out a yodel from his perch.

Al looked over his way and laughed, waving.  He turned to me. 
"Surprised you haven't stuffed that bastard and hung him on a
wall."

Joe made a rude noise.

I laughed.  "Nah, he gives the fleas something to bite.  And he
is useful, occasionally."

Another rude noise from Joe.

Johnny made a creepy noise, his eyes glowing, pointing the evil
finger at Joe.

Joe floated up in the air, his eyes glowing, opening his mouth to
show a set of fangs to match Johnny's.  I've seen Joe chase off a
pack of coyotes...

"Knock it off!  No contests tonight!" I yelled.  "Scare little
kids on your own time!"

Al muttered something in Greek.  Johnny laughed, and after a bit,
so did Joe.

Johnny hugged Al again.  "We had some good times together -- I
could go for more of dat."

Al smiled a bit more.  "Yeah, we sure could..."  He looked at me.
 "I do the pipes to round up some ladies, get them all hot and
bothered, some vin, some mighty fine lovin, and he cleans up," he
nodded at Johnny.  "Everybody happy.  Hey, Doc, you could join
in, too.  Do you some good."  Al clapped a hand on my shoulder. 
"We'd both promise to leave you alone..."  Al and Johnny
laughed.

Joe made a remark, guess it was Greek, from his perch.

Al and Johnny looked at him.  Al lifted his nose, inhaling.  He
smiled broadly, nodding.  "Damn, Doc!  A yeti, and a hot one at
that!  You're doin' okay!"

Joe said something else.  Johnny and Al laughed, Al shaking his
head again.

"Doc, you really left her alone?" Al asked incredulously.

"You didn't do her, on the spot?" Johnny asked, equally
incredulous.

"No, I didn't," I told them.  "She'll be back."

Al and Johnny laughed; Joe whistled derisively.

Al clapped me on the back.  "Oh, she'll be back, and you're in
for the time of your life, my boy..."

Johnny actually looked wistful.  "I remember ...  My first trip
over the Silk Road, stopping there on the way back, with, who was
that bastard?  Kubli Kahn?  Doc, if you get the chance, go there
-- they have cities under the mountains that are
un-fucking-believable."  He shook his head.  "For you, Doc, you'd
probably be interested in their society and their art."

Al shook his head.  "He don't get it.  He don't know."

Johnny looked at him, made a face, then nodded.  "Yah, he can't
-- too damn young."

Both of them put arms around me, very paternal, if you ignore the
fact that I was standing between a satyr and a vampire.

"My boy," Johnny said, "Let me tell you a bit about yetis.  On a
good day, they make him" he hooked a thumb at Al, "look like a
priest..."  Laughter after a pause...  "Okay, not so good a
choice.  Make that a Shaker.  You get the idea, anyway.  And this
young lady has more than her eyes on you, from what that pervert
says," nodding at Joe, who gave a disgusted chortle.

"The yetis have a little problem," Al picked up.  "When they
breed, they only get girls."

I gave him a weird look; I'd treated a definitely male yeti,
although a young one.

But Al nodded, smiling.  "The only way to get a male yeti is for
one of their females to breed with a human male.  Human male plus
yeti female gets you a yeti male every time.  Oh, you're starting
to catch on!"

I was...  And I'd invited her back...  This could be more
interesting than I thought...

Johnny sighed, looking a bit sad.  "You poor humans -- like flies
to us.  Doc, to us you're going to be gone so soon...  Yeah, I
know, one of my cousins offered..."

What was her name?  Sophira?  Saphira?  She was gorgeous, must be
part succubus...  She'd offered, when I was old, all I had to do
was call her, she'd take me -- and I'd live forever.

Johnny nodded.  "That's not a bad path, Doc, but the yeti... 
They don't live forever, but then again, I've never known one to
die of natural causes...  When they need to, when they want to,
they can change a human into a yeti.  It's more than change --
I've seen it done, think it was my third Silk Road trip, and it's
more like regeneration into a yeti.  Play your cards right, Doc,
and when you're tired of this life, there's another one
waiting."

I smiled and nodded.  What with the fairy dust, even though I was
in my mid-40's, I looked and felt twenty years younger.  I had a
long run ahead of me.

Johnny clapped me on the back, laughing out loud.  "But right
now, I need me some salsa!"  He shook his bony hips, his tongue
hanging out obscenely.  He gave Al a hug, then stepped off to the
side of the Portal.  He pointed at Joe.  "You are one sick
fuck...  You take good care of this kid!  Anything happens, and
you are in for it!"  With a flourish, he vanished in a puff of
sulfurous smoke.  Joe made a rude noise.

Al laughed.  "Doc, I came here feelin quite down, and I knew
you'd help!"

"That's what friends are for," I told him.

"Well get ready for some more!" Joe hollered.

Out of the Portal spilled three... four, five?  Five tall, lithe,
green dryads, and they were all crying up a storm.

I waded into them, moving them from the Portal in case we got
more visitors.  Tall, lithe, lovely, and heartbroken.  They were
from an Amazon rain forest, and the last of their grove had been
clear-cut.  They'd watched it happen, tree by tree.  They didn't
know where to go, what to do, and a were-croc suggested they come
see me, that I could help.  Could I?  Their trees, all their
trees were gone!

They were huddled around me, holding, crying.  I was surrounded
by verdant sex, so primal!  With enough fairy dust, I could help
maybe three of them...

Then I looked at Al...  And he was perking up, definitely!

"Ladies," I said, hugging who I could, "Let me talk to my
colleague for a moment, please."

I tried to get away from them, but that took a while, insisting I
would do what I could, hugging and getting more hugs.

Joe hopped down to a nearby table, taking what I'm sure he
thought was a noble pose; the dryads swarmed him.

I took Al by the arm and led him away from the crowd.

"You wouldn't know of any forested areas needing a group of
dryads, would you?" I asked.

He looked, no, leered, at the dryads, as he scratched his chin. 
A smile grew on his face.  Other things were growing as well. 
"Why yes...  A small group of islands, declared a nature
preserve, replanted oh twenty years ago..."  He gave me a leer. 
"I just might be able to help..."

My turn to clap him on the back.  I turned and pointed a finger
at him.  "Wait here.  Please."

He smiled.  "I can wait a while..."

I returned to the dryads, who had surrounded Joe and were adoring
him.  Gag.

"Ladies?" I called.  They turned to me.  They swarmed me.  I
turned my back on Joe so I didn't see the nasty look he most
likely gave me.

I talked to them about climate.  Could they take cold climates? 
Not as hot during the summer, some snow in the winter?  When I
said, "snow," one of them excitedly repeated it, "Snow!" and her
nipples crinkled up.  I thought I was going to bust my pants! 
Soon they were all chanting "Snow!" and I was getting dizzy,
surrounded by perfect breasts and pert nipples.  I guess it would
work...

I introduced them to Al, who they thought was adorable.  I think
Al was about to start using the  rules we teach for triage
situations: when you're outnumbered, start where you stand...

But that got me thinking, and dammit, I wanted data...  I'd not
had the experience of meeting a dryad before.  I insisted on
physicals on all of them.  They thought that was a wonderful
idea, but how did I get talked into taking off my clothes as
well?  I had a minor problem right away: dryads can't count, and
they had no idea how old they were.  Al guessed these were young
ones, sixty to eighty or so.

We weighed and measured, and things somehow got out of hand and
into hand, or hands...  Al was getting to know at least two of
them while one was in my lap and another was alternating between
kissing me and smothering me to her breasts.  I raided the fairy
dust, and I don't know how many I helped...  They certainly
helped as well, something they did with their hands, touching,
breathing on me -- well, I guess they're good at getting things
to grow...  Al certainly helped them, and would continue to help,
I'm sure.

We managed to get them all swept through the Portal, Al showing
them the way to their new home.  He looked a hundred years
younger!

I collapsed, naked still, on a cushion which had gotten dragged
out from my office futon.  It needed cleaning, but smelled like a
lively, sexy, jungle...  What a day!

And that pervert Joe, hopping up and down, yorping in glee. 
"That was great!" he called out.  "I didn't know you had it in
you!"

"In them," I sighed.  "Are we done yet?"

"You're done, that's for sure!" Joe said, breaking into song in a
language I didn't know.  From him, it had to be bawdy.

"Wake me if we get any more customers," I told him, leaning back
on the cushion, and trying in vain to avoid the wet spots.


Work in ProgressRev 2006/12/12	

Open Clinic silli_artie@hotmail.com
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/artie/www

Open Clinic





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