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Scara makes a noise when some kind of tool is shoved inside him, a powerful suction attaching it snugly to his insides. The Doctor has him strapped tightly to an examination chair, spread open in multiple regards - his legs, his hole, a metal spreader gag in his mouth that he is struggling not to unceremoniously drool around.
“See,” the Doctor starts, his tone gratingly smug as always. “All you need to do is get a good vacuum seal on the cervix. It should be easy from there. We won’t even have to cut you open. Let’s test the hypothesis, shall we.” He grins at him as if Scara could possibly answer him with the metal wedged between his teeth. He cannot kick him in the face the way he deserves, either, though he might want to - all of his limbs are firmly strapped down. The Doctor braces one gloved hand on Scara’s inner thigh, his smile never faltering as he grasps the tool inside him firmly, and then leans back to pull.
Scara lets out a noise, tensing up around the restraints as he feels his organs begin to shift inside him, a powerful force relentlessly pulling at his insides. He struggles, but it is of no use. Before long, the Doctor achieves his goal - gradually, the smooth, pink flesh of Scara’s uterus begins to emerge out of his hole, pulled as far as his body will allow it to go without tearing.
Once satisfied, the Doctor removes the vacuum suction and any implements used to force Scara’s hole open, leaving it fluttering desperately around the plump pink organ that is now hanging partway outside of his body. The Doctor looks it over, then picks it up with one of his hands, as if to test how heavy it is, how it might feel resting in his palm.
“You really have such a pretty uterus, doll,” he purrs with that disgusting sleazy expression of his, giving the smooth pink flesh a squeeze, then using a finger to trace the rim of Scara’s cervix. “A truly beautiful specimen. It is almost a pity to leave it inside you, since you have so little use for it there.” Scara only responds with a grunt, tugging at his restraints a little bit. He is panting slightly from the exertion of having just had an organ partially pulled out, and the Doctor’s antics are irritating him more than usual. Normally he might want to tell him to shut up and shove it, but with the metal gag forcing his mouth open, he can only make displeased noises, and try not to give the Doctor the satisfaction of looking at him, or reacting too strongly to his teasing.
“Now then, for the main show,” the Doctor continues, unbothered by Scara’s attempts to somehow still give him attitude. Holding Scara’s exposed womb firmly in one hand, he begins to press a finger into the opening of his cervix, slowly working it open.
Scara shudders at the insistent pressure, letting out an unhappy sound when the digit finally works its way inside, breaching the barrier and entering his womb. The Doctor fingers it thoughtfully for a moment, studying the puppet’s reactions as he slides the gloved finger in and out.
It does not take him long to begin forcing another finger in, bringing a choked noise out of Scara’s mouth. Resistance is futile, of course. Even as the doll wiggles and squirms in apparent discomfort, the restraints are holding him firmly in place, and what little movement he can manage only tugs at his exposed uterus, held securely in the Doctor’s hand as he scissors his fingers inside it, dilating his cervix more and more.
“You are really missing out, you know,” the man cackles as he looks up at Scara, who’s stubbornly staring at something off to the side, refusing to give him as much as a glance. He pushes his fingers into the soft walls of his womb from the inside, stretching the supple pink flesh, prompting a shudder from the doll. “This is quite the fascinating sight. I think I might have to secure your attention better next time…”
The Doctor works on stretching out Scara’s cervix for a while longer. By the time he appears satisfied with his work, Scara is breathing heavily, drool running down his chin as he struggles to swallow, his body twitching and his hole fluttering with every move.
“That should be enough,” the Doctor declares, allowing the exposed organ to hang free for a moment as he stands up from his seat, adjusting the height of the examination chair to about waist level.
A feeling of dread comes over Scara gradually as he feels the upwards movement of the chair. He knows what this usually means - the Doctor has fucked him in this chair before, after doing this or that to him, but… With the current state of things, several options for what might be about to happen cycle through his mind… and he has a feeling that something as blissfully simple as getting fucked in the ass is not going to be the answer.
“Nghhh… ” He makes a noise again, finally looking at the Doctor in an attempt to infer his intentions (or rather, hoping to discover that his intentions aren’t exactly what he thinks they are). He is only met with a glint of teeth, and the sight of the Doctor opening his pants.
“Nghhhhhhhh… ” He tenses up, pulling at the straps binding him to the chair as the Doctor pulls out his cock, already hard, giving it a couple of strokes before picking up Scara’s limply hanging womb again. He adjusts his hold a little, aligning Scara’s open cervix with the tip of his cock.
“NGHHHHH!!!” Scara shakes his head, his teeth digging into the metal in his mouth. His hips push against the straps, lifting off the chair a little bit, but the Doctor holds his uterus firmly, pulling it out of his body a little bit further as he begins to work the head of his cock into the cervix.
There is no way to escape. Scara’s cervix is forced to take in the tip, stretching around it as it makes its way inside. The Doctor hums in approval as it finally gives way, and he wastes no time before pushing further in, slowly stretching the supple flesh of Scara’s womb over his cock. Scara gasps and struggles as the length of the cock gradually fills the organ up, pushing further and further in and stretching it until the cervix fits firm and snug around the base. By the end, the doll is shivering all over, panting and drooling, desperately trying and failing not to whimper. He can feel the tip of the cock stretching out the opening of his pussy where it wraps around his womb, still partially inside him.
“There we go. You took all of it, I’m quite surprised. What a lovely fleshlight you make. The feeling is quite nice, too. How does it feel, hm? …From the look on your face, you don’t seem to be too appreciative. No matter; be brave and bear with it.”
Scara does not dignify the thinly veiled mockery with an attempt at an answer.
There is no use trying to express pain or plead with the Doctor to stop; it has never yielded anything productive, even when he had the ability to do it. He really only has a single option - he indeed can only bear with it when the Doctor adjusts his hold on his womb again to grip it more firmly, before pulling his hips back and beginning to thrust into it.
The fucking makes tears well up in Scara’s eyes, no matter how much he tries to suppress them. Even before, the desperately stretched organ could barely contain the cock. With every thrust, the tip of the Doctor’s cock dips into his pussy again and again as it fills his womb up. His cervix slides up and down the shaft, the soft, smooth flesh pulled tight around the member. It feels agonizing, like getting his insides twisted and pulled; every thrust brings a choked sound out of him. He catches a brief glimpse of what’s happening between his legs - his hole spread open by the pink organ coming out of it, stretched like a grotesque flesh tube around the Doctor’s cock as he fucks into it. He looks away again, a wave of nausea overcoming him at the sight - feeling it is quite enough.
It feels like endless agony that the Doctor abuses his womb, fucking it with little regard for Scara’s comfort, like he’s really trying to test if it would make for a good fleshlight. It’s thoroughly violating in a manner Scara could hardly even envision before.
At last, fortunately, the Doctor’s pace finally reaches a sort of finality, culminating in a few last powerful thrusts. He digs his fingers into one of Scara’s thighs, his other hand gripping his uterus tighter as he bottoms out one last time, and then finally releases inside with a low, satisfied groan.
The hot fluid fills the tight space. The Doctor only gives a few more shallow thrusts to ride out his climax completely before he finally pulls out, giving the whole organ an uncomfortable yank as the abused cervix snags on the head of his cock on its way out.
Scara is left shaking, his face covered in drool and tears that he did not notice spilling over. His now fucked-out womb hangs out of his pussy stretched out and flaccid, thoroughly used as his hole twitches uselessly around it. The aftermath of the Doctor’s climax begins to trickle out through his abused cervix, dripping onto the floor. The Doctor leaves it as is while he takes his time to wipe himself off and zip his clothes back up properly.
“Aw. It looks considerably less cute all used up like that,” he teases after a while as he takes hold of the limp organ again, examining it. “You did well. I am quite satisfied with the results. I will consider this in further experimentation.”
Scara tenses up again, even as shaky as he is, giving the man a worried glance and making a noise. He shakes his head very subtly, though he knows that whatever else the Doctor might want to do to him, he is largely powerless in stopping it.
“Maybe we can leave it like this for the time being?” the Doctor grins at him, clearly enjoying his state of alarm. “Put some nice accessories on it… Or shall I invite the Captain to try it out? I am quite curious just how big a cock it can take.”
“NGHH! ” …That remark actually earns a vigorous head shake from Scara, his eyes reflecting a glint of genuine fear. The Doctor only laughs, of course - as always, cruelty seems to be genuinely amusing to him.
“...Well, maybe some other time, then.” He waves his hand in the end, turning to the little side table holding tools and other things. “Since you have been quite good, I will put it back inside you later.” The used organ flops back against the edge of the chair as he lets go of it. “But not before I record the findings of today’s session. So be a good doll and wait.”
With that, the Doctor fully takes his attention off Scara, turning to recording today’s experiments in his notes. Scara can only wait for him to finish, still strapped to the chair as he has been, his used womb hanging limp out of his pussy and slowly dripping come onto the tiled floor.