Here goes part 3! I'm pretty happy with this one =)
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I was fucking hungry. Frank told me he’d make it up to me by taking me out to the fanciest French place in town, bill on him, but what I really wanted was something right now. Something like a nice cut of seared Ahi Tuna, or even a frigging salad. But no, Frank was insistent… no food for 8 hours before the competition. Looking at my watch, I saw that it was 7 pm, which meant that with an hour till the event to go, I needed to get dressed and make my way to the Pacific Dental Center.
What possessed me to dress up like I was still in college, I had no idea, but here I was, wearing a cute little dress that barely went below my knees and a pair of plaid super tall stockings. I guess, if I was roped into this ridiculous competition I was at least going to dress ridiculously. Frank brought up the competition pretty innocuously as we were relaxing after a particularly difficult wisdom tooth extraction had finished. He mentioned that he has a great friend of his from college that had opened a sedation dentistry clinic across town from us, and that they were constantly in competition for clients and dentistry awards. Being friends, they had hatched this contest to determine who the better sedation dentist was. They’d each choose an assistant, and, well, demonstrate their sedation techniques. Of course, they wouldn’t do it on their own assistant, oh no, instead, they’d swap subjects for the night. May the most stylish induction take the prize.
Now, when Frank first told me about this, I just gave him the look. I’d gotten good at the look in the two months we’d worked together. Every time he kept eyeing his gas cabinet and then glancing at me, I’d give him the yeah, I know you’re imagining me all sleepy and dopey, strapped to the dental chair, but it ain’t happening bub look. Usually he sheepishly looked away, but as he was telling me about the competition he just held my gaze. Damn his deep blue eyes. He didn’t even need to drug me when he looked at me that way, I started turning to jelly all by myself. “Now Lucia” he rumbled in his deep bass voice that so relaxed female patients. “If you help me do this, and we win, that will mean more patients for us, which would mean more money for you. How’s a nice $10 dollar an hour raise sound?” It sounded good damn him. “Fine…” I muttered. “But you’d better win.” He just smiled.
Which is how I ended up in the reception room of the Pacific Dental Center after hours. While Frank’s dental office was modern and somewhat warm, walls painted a kind of pastel green, the PDC was like a set from one of those 1950's movies. Everything was brass and chrome, well-polished, with a great art deco aesthetic going. I liked Frank’s friend already. But what really drew my gaze was the wall art, which seemed to consist of gas pressure valves from what I could only imagine was a first or second generation anesthesia machine. Real subtle that.
Distracted by the wall art, I didn’t notice the inner door open, so was startled by a clearing of the throat. Looking at the newcomer, I did a double take. I had imagined Frank’s competitor to be another 50ish guy like Frank (but hopefully without the bedroom eyes), but instead what stood in front of me could have been a body double for Marylin Monroe. Perfect blond hair, an hourglass waist, and mischievous eyes that simply seethed with possibility. “Hi, you must be Lucia” the newcomer exclaimed. “Frank told me so much about you. We’re going to get along great, I just know it. Oh, I should introduce myself. I’m Dr. Christine Baunta, but you can call me Dr. Chrissy.”
“Please follow me inside, Frank and my assistant, Gretchen, are already there.” Late again I though, how typical of me. The room she led me into was absolutely stunning. There was more of the art deco styling, but it was clear that despite the stylistic choices, this was a fully functional modern dental theater. I could keep telling you about the color of the walls, or the tiled floor pattern, but really, I bet you just want to know about the gas machine. The first thing I noticed about it was that it was large. The one at Frank’s office only had two canisters, one for n2o and one for o2, but this one seemed to have 4. While the first two were the same as at our office, the 3rd I was pretty sure contained fluothane, but I didn’t recognize the 4th one at all. Running out from the canister contained was a large later hose, which was currently not attached to anything. Instead, what lay next to it was a collection of masks. There was the usual modern nitrous mask, only covering the nose and making the person wearing it look a little like a silly alien. But next to it were a few black beauties in different sizes, as we called them in dental school, all black and covering the whole face, used for more serious sedation. I could not pull my eyes away. Dr. Chrissy was clearly serious about her gassing, and I was absolutely sure who the next patient was going to be.
Thus, it was with utter surprise that I felt a prick in my left buttock. I turned around to see Dr. Chrissy withdrawing a small syringe from my posterior. “What… what was that?” I exclaimed. “Now dear Lucia, the doctor replied, Frank has warned us you could be a bit uncooperative, so I decided to pre-sedate you a little bit before the full procedure. Don’t worry it’s not very strong, it’s just going to leave you a little bit relaxed, warm, and somewhat out of it.” She wasn't kidding. While I knew I should complain that I wasn't ready, that this wasn't in the plan, instead I just kind of felt like sitting down and resting for a few minutes. As I moved toward the dental chair, I stumbled a little bit, my legs feeling somewhat wobbly. Dr. Chrissy moved fast, catching my elbow and gently guiding me to the dental table. Her touch felt really good, and I may have let out a little moan.
“Oh dear” she said. “This drug can sometime cause a bit of an arousal in female patients. Don’t fight it Lucia, just let it wash over you.” She gently pushed me down on the chair, and I absolutely melted into it. Where she touched me, spots of comfortable warmth spread out, floating through me like a wave. “Doesn't that feel good?” she asked, running her hands through my lustrous hair. That did feel good. “Now, let’s get rid of those shoes, shall we..” Dr. Chrissy said as she ran her hands down my stockinged legs, slowly removing my shoes. “Now you lie here and relax while I get the IV ready and then it’ll be sleepy time for real!”
As I floated in my dreamy haze, I vaguely heard Dr. Chrissy fussing with something behind me. A minute later, she wheeled a portable IV stand next to me. She rolled up my sleeve and then wiped down my inner elbow with some alcohol. Her demeanor was somehow both sensual and professional, almost a perfect combination. Not that I could really give it much thought as whatever she had injected into my buttock earlier had cast an almost complete pallor over my higher thinking faculties. Minutes later (or was it seconds, time was no longer something I could keep track of) I felt another prick. With my muscles heavy, it took a lot of effort to turn my head toward the IV stand, but when I did I could see that I was already connected to the saline bag. Dr. Chrissy, ever economical of time was readying a larger syringe, filling it with a milky whitish liquid.
She noticed my scrutiny and smiled at me. “Oh are you still up dear? Well no worries, let me just inject this into your line and then I’m going to ask you to count down from 10 for me. Can you do that?” Feeling warm and happy I tried my best. “Teeen” I slurred. As I continued counting, my languor, already pretty intense increased further and further. I was already to 5, but I could no longer keep my eyes open. “Fffour” I tried to pronounce, but everything was spinning and it just seemed like so much work to say it out loud. My eyes closed one last time, and then there was just the warm and comforting blackness. My last thought was that Frank was going to have a really hard time topping Dr. Chrissy's performance.
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