Chapter 160: Clinical Review
The sticky residue of Bruce’s release still clung to Dr. Petrova’s inner thighs, a constant, humiliating reminder as she shuffled towards the medical suite off the main pavilion a week later. Lena’s words, sharp as broken glass, echoed relentlessly in her mind: "Hey doc... you think you’d ever be able to go from that to a regular man? With a 5 inch cock? You’re so stretched he’d never even feel your walls. He’s gonna think you’re a raging whore ‘cause your cunt is so loose. You felt it stretch doc..." The memory made her clench, a phantom ache radiating from her core. The impossible measurements Sophia had taken – fifteen inches long, nine inches thick – seemed to mock her. How could anything normal ever satisfy again?
The air in the softly lit examination room was cool, sterile, a jarring contrast to the humid jungle air and the raw sexuality of the compound. Six women waited on plush chairs and the examination table, the low murmur of conversation falling silent as Petrova entered. Erika, pale and ethereal in a silk robe, perched nervously on the edge of the exam table. Lena leaned against a cabinet, her expression unreadable but her dark eyes sharp. Ketut sat cross-legged on the floor, radiating calm. Priya, ever observant, watched Petrova intently. Mystique and Jasmine whispered together, Jasmine’s hand resting unconsciously on her own flat stomach. Camille stood by the window, a pillar of composed strength, while Sophia hovered near the ultrasound machine, her usual vibrant energy subdued into focused practicality.
"Alright," Petrova began, forcing her voice into its familiar professional cadence, pushing Lena’s taunts and the ghostly sensation of being impossibly filled to the back of her mind. "Ultrasound time. Standard fetal checks. Heartbeats, measurements, positions. We’ll do you one by one." She gestured towards the exam table. "Erika, you first, please. Lie back."
Erika complied, her long limbs unfolding gracefully. She pushed her robe aside, revealing pale skin stretched taut over the gentle swell of her belly. Petrova squeezed cool gel onto the transducer. The rhythmic whoosh-whoosh of a tiny, strong heartbeat filled the room, a sound that never failed to soften the hardest edges. A collective sigh, small smiles exchanged. Normal. Reassuring.
Lena watched, arms crossed. "Looks good, Ice Queen," she remarked, her tone deceptively light. "Bet it’s a bruiser like its daddy."
Petrova moved methodically: Lena next, her scan revealing a baby nestled deep, followed by Ketut, whose small bump housed another vibrant, flickering life. Jasmine and Mystique were next, both showing healthy progress. Camille’s scan was brief, a confirmation of stability. Finally, Sophia climbed onto the table. Petrova moved the transducer, the image resolving on the screen.
"There," Petrova pointed, her finger tracing a clear outline. "See that? Between the legs. No ambiguity."
Sophia’s breath hitched. boy?" she whispered, her eyes wide.
"Definitely a boy," Petrova confirmed, a genuine smile touching her lips for the first time that morning. The room buzzed with quiet congratulations. Sophia beamed, tears glistening.
Sophia’s happy tears traced paths down her temples as she wiped the gel off her belly, the image of her son still vivid on the darkened screen. The warm, sticky residue seemed trivial against the fierce joy radiating from her. "A boy," she breathed again, clutching Camille’s offered hand with surprising strength. "Un hijo fuerte, like his father."
Lena pushed off the cabinet, her dark eyes flickering with a strange mix of mischief and something sharper as she watched Petrova clean the transducer. "Congrats, Soph. Guess you won't be needing those kegels for Bruce anymore, huh?" Her gaze slid pointedly towards Petrova, a predatory smile playing on her lips. "Gotta keep that grip tight for the monster cock. Though after that stretching doc got last week..." She let the implication hang, thick and crude, recalling Petrova’s brutal initiation on the teak table.
Petrova flinched, the memory of Lena’s earlier taunt – "You’re so stretched he’d never even feel your walls..." – echoing alongside the phantom sensation of being impossibly filled, torn open by Bruce’s impossible girth. She kept her face carefully neutral, focusing on the machine. "Erika," she stated, her voice clipped, needing to move forward. "Back on the table, please. We need clear images for both."
Erika smoothed her silk robe, her startling blue eyes wide with apprehension. She settled back, the gentle swell of her twin pregnancy more pronounced now. The cool gel made her gasp softly as Petrova pressed the transducer low on her pale abdomen. The screen flickered, resolving into the complex dance of two distinct forms swimming in their private seas. Heads, spines, tiny limbs kicking in counterpoint. Petrova adjusted angles, zooming in, her brow furrowed in concentration. Silence fell, heavy with expectation, broken only by the rapid, syncopated drumming of two tiny heartbeats.
"There," Petrova murmured, pointing to the flickering grey scale image. She froze the frame, highlighting the crucial area for one baby, then smoothly shifted to the second. A small, almost disbelieving sound escaped her own lips. She looked up, meeting Erika’s terrified gaze. "Okay. Baby A…" She pointed again, the small nub unmistakable. "Definitely a boy."
Erika’s breath hitched, a hand flying to her mouth. Bruce was going to have another son. Petrova moved the wand slightly, focusing intently on the second tiny form nestled beside its brother. The angle was trickier, a limb momentarily obscuring the view. She adjusted pressure, shifted Erika’s position slightly. The room held its collective breath. Lena leaned in, Ketut uncrossed her legs, Priya’s analytical gaze fixed on the screen.
The image cleared. Petrova zoomed. Perfectly visible. No mistaking it this time. "And Baby B…" Petrova announced, a genuine smile finally breaking through her professional mask, touched by the sheer unexpectedness. "Also a boy. Erika, you’re having twin boys."
A choked sob burst from Erika, relief and overwhelming joy flooding her features. "Tvíburar! Tvíburar drengir!" she cried out in Icelandic, tears streaming freely now, her hands cradling her belly where her sons swam. Camille rushed to her side, embracing her tightly, murmuring congratulations in Spanish. Jasmine clapped excitedly, Mystique beamed, Sophia wiped fresh tears of shared happiness. Even Lena offered a genuine, if brief, smile before her sharp gaze inevitably returned to Petrova.
The initial wave of joy subsided into warm chatter. Petrova methodically wiped the gel from Erika’s skin, the clinical task a welcome anchor. As Erika sat up, radiant, adjusting her robe, Petrova straightened, scanning the expectant faces turned towards her in the suddenly quiet room. The air hummed with anticipation, the sterile scent of the gel mingling with the faint, lingering perfume of the women and the distant, damp earth smell drifting from the open window. Lena’s smirk was back, a silent challenge hanging between them.
Petrova met her gaze for a fraction of a second, then swept her eyes across the others – Jasmine nervously smoothing her top over her own small bump, Ketut’s serene expression, Mystique’s confident posture, Priya’s watchful scrutiny, Camille’s protective arm around Erika, Sophia’s exhausted happiness. The question hung, potent and simple.