Dear Dr. Dentist,

September 17, 2014

Dear Dr. Dentist,

We had met only once before. You seemed like a nice guy. You had such a handsome smile, but it wasn’t long before you told me how you wanted to be inside of me. I didn’t mind your candor. I, however, made it clear how uncomfortable I get having someone inside of me so you promised me drugs and said you would be gentle. I trusted your smile so I agreed to meet you within the next week to let you do your business.

On the day I saw you again, you asked how I was doing. I said I was nervous. I knew we both had done this before, just not together. Would you be rough or gentle? Would it hurt? You assured me that everything would be okay. Again, I trusted your smile.

You gently leaned me back and covered your face for protection (you can never be too careful). It wasn’t long before I felt your prick in my mouth, and it was so much bigger than I expected. I squirmed and gripped tightly to the arms of the chair. It was almost too much for me to take at once. I didn’t complain. I didn’t tell you to stop because I wanted to impress you.

After the prick, you left me alone for a little while. I assumed you were done (I wouldn’t have judged you if you were), but before I decided to just leave, you returned, and before I could say “please, be gentle,” you put your tool in your hand and were drilling me in my mouth without abandon.

We didn’t speak to each other while you did your business. We didn’t even look into each other’s eyes. I just laid still because you had said you preferred it that way. You did all the work. You lasted so long. I must compliment your stamina. I didn’t think it would ever end. It might have seemed shorter if you at least pretended like you enjoyed it.

When you finished in my mouth, you gave me a dismissive pat on the shoulder and went away without letting me know if it was good for you. I know you left me to be inside someone else, but this didn’t bother me. I obediently gathered my things and left.

Today I’m writing this letter to let you know I’m still thinking of our time together. You may have had your way with me, but I don’t feel used. I’ll be honest, it wasn’t special, but it was memorable. Even a day later, I can still feel you inside of me. Because of the drugs, you said I wouldn’t remember anything, yet I remember every detail. I just wonder if circumstances bring us together again if you will remember me, or am I just another hole you wanted to fill?

From the heart,



by Cary Vaughn (2014)