#Pathology grossing stations

[pangalarklaboratory]

Pangalark Laboratory Technology - Pathology Grossing Stations

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Website https://www.pangalark.com.au/

Mail ID: sales@pangalark.com.au

Phone no: +61 7 3823 5984

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"First Taste"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Kemp x reader

Tags: doctor/patient, medical kink, body image issues, oral sex (f!rec), fingering, dub-con, pussy worship, (inference of background cannibalism (b/c it's Fresh), but nothing to do with the plot or reader)

Summary: Steve Kemp sees a new patient for a consult about a rather ... intimate procedure.

Steve gets into the office at his usual time, coffee cup in hand as he catches the elevator. He sees Cassie jogging in from across the lobby in her colorful scrubs and holds the door for her. They greet one another amicably and ask how each other’s weekend was. She tells him about her new kickboxing class, he tells her about the pâté he made on Saturday.

“Liver?” She says dubiously as the two of them enter the office. She’s wrinkling her nose and laughing at him. “You’re some kind of Chef, Kemp.”

“I prefer the term gourmand. By the way is that Barbie on your—”

“Yep.” She goes behind the nurse’s station and hands him a clipboard. “Your morning appointments. Dr. Hickory went into early labor at like four am, so you’ve got some of hers.”

Steve’s eyebrows raise as he takes the clipboard and gives it a look. “What is she, thirty-eight weeks?”

“Thirty-seven.”

“Should be fine,” he mumbles. He frowns at one of the patient slots on his clipboard. “I see I have an FGM consult at eleven,” he says, eyes flicking peevishly back up to Cassie.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she says, checking on her computer. “Yeah, Ms. Moreau. Be nice, she’s new.”

Steve narrows his eyes at the info. “You know I’ve tried to get away from doing those anymore,” he says, giving Cassie a look. Everybody in the office knows how he has a problem with the fact that Hickory’s turned their office into such a chop shop. Steve would’ve thought a woman would know better. Female solidarity, progressiveness, autonomy, kumbaya, whatever.

Cassie rolls her eyes at him. “Yeah yeah. Dr. Brendan the activist.”

“Hey, I told you, it’s—”

“‘Pathologizing the pussy’,” she recites with finger quotes. “We know.”

“Mm,” Steve grunts, assumes the ‘we’ is in reference to all the nurses at the practice. Those girls share a level of groupthink that is frankly eerie.

Steve works in plastics. He’s a vain man himself, so he knows he shouldn’t have gotten involved in a career field like this if he wasn’t prepared to be surrounded by other people’s body insecurities 24/7. It’s just… not how he pictured it.

Good thing he’s got this new side business venture going. He’s hopeful about it. Just last month he’d been able to send in the final payment for his student loans. Pretty soon he’ll have enough to get a house. He's entertaining the idea of a custom build, still scouting properties south of Portland. “I’ll see you later,” he tells Cassie. “Send my nine o’clock to exam three when they get here.”

“You got it.”

You arrive early for your appointment, plunking yourself down in the waiting room chair after the long walk from the train. You feel unpleasantly sticky underneath the cotton of your sundress. The office is cool, but it’d been hot outside. The near-boiling summer temperatures made you work up a sweat as you made your way across the city for this appointment.

Now, sitting in the chair, you can feel the sweat that’s formed on your body. It’s at your hairline, between your breasts and at the creases of your inner thighs. You worry about it, because soon you’ll be baring yourself to the doctor and you had specifically showered right before leaving for your apartment, used a pH balanced feminine hygiene product, just in case you were somehow scent blind to your own body. You didn’t want to be sweaty and gross when Dr. Hickory was going to be looking down there.

“Miss?” The receptionist smiles at you, holding out a clipboard from over the desk. “You need to fill this out, please.”

You stand, hurrying to go get it and the pen that she offers you as well. “Sorry,” you murmur. They’d told you that you would need to be there fifteen minutes early for paperwork. You return to your chair, feeling like such a hot sweaty mess, whereas the receptionist lady is so pretty and poised. You tuck some of your blonde hair back behind your ears and cross your ankles in an attempt to be even a fraction as put together as she is, you powder blue espadrilles knocking together as you prop the clipboard on your lap.

The office’s air conditioning is making the perspiration cool to your skin now, clammy and unpleasant. You read over the intake forms and fill them out. The second page has a line drawing of a naked woman’s body, front and back. It asks you to circle the areas you’re there to address. You bite your lip and circle the drawing’s pelvis. The anxiety you tend to get creeps back up on you, but you take a deep breath and let it out. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Dr. Hickory does this all the time. It’s her speciality. She will have seen it all, and you’ll be nothing new to her.

The door to the waiting room opens and a younger woman in hot pink scrubs peeks her head through. “Ms. Moreau?” she says brightly. She has café au lait skin, wild curly hair, and a genuine smile that helps put you at ease.

“That’s me.” You stand up, the only person in the waiting room. “Obviously,” you chuckle, grabbing your purse and following after her.

“I’m Cassie,” she introduces herself. “Hop on up here and let’s get your weight.” You step on the scale backwards and open your mouth to tell her that you don’t need to know the number, but Cassie cuts you off with a wry look. “Don’t worry,” she says, thumbing at her own chest. “I know how it is, girl.”

You flush and nod, glad that you don’t have to veer into that explanation. She records your weight on her clipboard and tells you to follow her to an exam room. Inside, she hands you a painfully thin paper gown and tells you that you can change. You fidget uncomfortably. “Um, actually I wore a dress so that she could just…” you make a gesture, “ah, dive right in. Is it alright if I just stay like this?”

Cassie nods and doesn’t try to foist the paper gown on you any further. “Have a seat,” she tells you. “The doctor is just finishing up with another patient.”

“Okay,” you whisper, getting up onto the exam table. After Cassie leaves, you look around the room, taking everything in. You’ve never been in a plastic surgeon’s office before. Everything looks just like any other doctor’s office would, except that instead of posters talking about BMI and heart disease, there are advertisements for laser therapies and Botox.

You spot a tray of breast implants over on a counter and can’t stop yourself from going over to look. You pick one up and poke at it, feeling it wobble in your hand. You giggle a little, before bringing it up to hold in front of your chest. Your own breasts haven’t ever bothered you much. They’re small-ish but have a good shape. One of your exes had complimented them excessively (though other parts had received thinly-veiled criticism). You pick up another of the implants, this one bigger and more viscous, and hold the two shapes up to each of your breasts, trying to imagine what it would look like…

“I wouldn’t recommend either of those for you,” a male voice cuts in, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

You spin around. You’re still holding the implants near your chest, startled as you blink at the man who’s entered the room. He’s wearing a doctor’s coat over scrubs, and his nametag says Brendan Kemp, MD. The bigger of the two implants rolls out of your lax hand, landing with a comical ‘plop’ right by your shoe. “Oh jeez. I’m sorry!” you say in a hurry, feeling like a child who’s gotten caught doing something bad. You rush to bend down and collect the implant from the floor. “Sorry I was just—”

The man steps closer with a smirk on his lips and gleaming eyes. He seems amused at you. “Everybody wants to grab the boobies,” he says, gently taking the implants out of your hands and setting them back onto the tray on the counter. “You’re fine, Ms. Moreau.”

You blink at him, stuck in place. He knows your name. “Oh,” you say, voice hushed, still embarrassed. This doctor is very good looking. He has a commanding presence, too. Something about his eyes draws you in, makes you want to be the object of his attention. He smiles warmly at you, perfect teeth flashing for a second, and you huff at yourself and try to laugh off your foolishness. “Yeah,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “Guess I was just curious.”

“Hey, at least you weren’t juggling them. I walked in on that, once.” He winks. “What’s your accent? French Canadian?”

“Ah, y-yeah. I’m from—” You watch as he barely listens to your answer, his eyes sliding down to the level of your chest and staying there, assessing. You flush under the scrutiny. But you don’t feel like you can move away without being rudely dismissive. You squirm, uncomfortable. “Um, I’m not—”

“I’m Dr. Kemp,” he murmurs offhandedly, still staring at your chest. You see his hands twitch, as if he’s thinking of touching, but stopping himself. “A woman with your frame wouldn’t look right with ones that big,” he says, meaning the implants you’d just been holding.

You feel the need to defend your own taste. “Oh I know that. I wasn’t—”

“These,” he says softly, taking one of the more modestly sized implants from the tray and holding it up in front of you to see. You’re caught looking more at the sight of his strong, elegant fingers than you are the implant. “These would suit you better. Though I honestly wouldn’t recommend augmentation for you.” His eyes finally return to your face. “Your breasts are lovely.”

You feel your lips part in shock. “Um…” you feel an odd combination of flattery and confusion. Is it normal for a doctor to talk to a patient like this? Maybe it’s different with plastic surgeons, you think. They are paid to focus on their patients’ looks, after all. Comments on what is and isn’t aesthetically pleasing must be par for the course, here. “Thank you?”

But then there’s his gaze, the way he stares at you. It feels like he’s not just looking at your body for his job, but also looking for himself, as well. There’s too much interest there to be purely professional. Your breath catches when you feel your nipples starting to tighten beneath your dress, and sure enough, when you glance down they’re very visible through the fabric. Shit. You see Kemp’s eyes look back down.

“Sorry,” you say in a rush, turning away from his assessing gaze. You should’ve worn a bra, you chide yourself. You try to take a deep, stabilizing breath while you have your back to him. “I’m here for… for something else.” You look down at your pebbled nipples, which aren’t softening as much as you’d like, and you sigh in defeat. No doubt Dr. Kemp has seen plenty of nipples in his day. You need to just get over it. You turn around and climb back up to sit on the exam table, the paper crinkling under your butt as you settle. “I’m just waiting for Doctor Hickory,” you explain. “For a consult. They said she’s with another patient.”

Dr. Kemp sighs and holds up his clipboard. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I’ll be seeing you today.”

“What?” You sit up straighter, alarmed. “But…” You’d specifically sought out a woman doctor for this. The idea of a man looking critically at you, there, is mortifying. “But, but Dr. Hickory—”

“Is having a baby,” Kemp says. “She went into preterm labor this morning. But we hear everything’s going well.” He smiles at you, as if this is good news. “She’ll be out on maternity leave for at least six months.”

“...Six months,” you repeat weakly. You hadn’t even known she was pregnant. They hadn’t said a thing to you when you made the appointment. You’d been counting on her being your doctor. And now this guy, this Dr. Kemp, was stepping in? You swallow nervously, uncomfortable with a man (let alone a very, very handsome man) being your doctor. Not for this. “Um, well I…”

Dr. Kemp is already looking over your chart on his clipboard. He’s going to see what you circled, you realize, mortified. You watch helplessly as he reads all of your private details. “Dr. Kemp…” you say meekly,

“You're here for a consult for…” he reads, eyes scanning further down the page. “Oh. You’re the Labiaplasty.”

You flush bright red at the word coming from his perfect mouth. You squirm uncomfortably. “Um, well… yes.”

“Don’t worry,” he tells you, placing a hand on your knee as if in comfort. He pulls it away before you can process it. “I’m more than familiar with the procedure. I trained down in L.A.” He says this like it’s supposed to explain something, and he winks at you again. It’s… upsetting.

You swallow thickly. “The thing is, I’d been hoping for a female doctor.”

Kemp’s eyes fly to your face as he realizes how uncomfortable you are. “Oh, Honey. I see.” You blush and he gives you a tender look. “You’re shy? That’s understandable.”

“Thank you, I—”

“But I’m sorry to tell you, Sweetheart, there aren’t any other women doctors in our practice.”

“Oh.” Your heart sinks. Getting this consult appointment had taken months, and you’d wanted to go to a place where you knew they were very good, very experienced. This place had been recommended as the best. “I see.”

Dr. Kemp looks pityingly at you. “Did you want to reschedule your appointment?” he asks gently. “Dr. Hickory won’t be taking new patients until after her leave, but I can have the receptionist take a look at next year’s calendar.”

You look at him with wide eyes, disappointed. “Next… next year?”

He makes an apologetic face. “Yeah, sorry.”

Sighing, you try to put on a brave face. You’re an adult, you tell yourself. Buck the fuck up. You’ve put up with male gynos before, after all. None of them ever looked like Dr. Kemp, but you shouldn’t hold the man’s good looks against him. He’s just here to do his job, to help you. “It’s okay,” you say, trying to approximate a friendly smile. “It’s fine. You can… you can be my doctor.”

Dr. Kemp’s eyes flash in satisfaction, but there’s something about it that’s more than just professional. “Good girl,” he says, and he says it all chipper and like it’s a normal thing to say to a patient, like it isn’t supposed to make your panties feel a little bit damp (and honestly, the sweetheart’s and the honey’s and the your breasts are lovely’s has probably contributed to the situation in your panties, too). “So,” Kemp says, sitting down onto the physician’s stool and rolling over. “Why don’t you tell me what makes you want this procedure.”

He’s giving you his full attention. He’s not even holding the clipboard anymore, and you find that it’s nearly impossible to meet his gaze for long. You look down at your lap instead, at your clasped hands against the white fabric of your sundress as you tell him, “Um, well I guess I just don’t, ah, don’t really like how I look… down there.” You nearly whisper the last words, ashamed.

“What don’t you like about it?” he asks softly.

“It just doesn’t look right,” you say, echoing the things your boyfriend had told you, things that you couldn’t help but to come to see as true. “It’s too much. Too big. It looks like…” you can’t even bring yourself to say the words that he’d used. “It’s just not pretty,” you whisper, cheeks burning in shame. “I want it to be prettier. Like other girls.”

“Other girls,” he repeats. “What other girls are we talking about?”

You scoff quietly and frown at your lap. “Like… you know. Like what you see in, in—”

“Porn?” Kemp says, voice tight. When you look up you’re struck by his darkening expression. He looks pissed off. “Let me guess,” he says, jaw working. “Boyfriend?”

You gape at him. “Ahm… no. Ex-boyfriend,” you murmur. Dr. Kemp looks very displeased, and you shrink back into yourself. “Is it… isn’t this like, a common procedure?” you ask meekly, wary of the man’s expression. “I looked at the website. There were lots of before and after pictures.” When you don’t get a response, you prod, “Doctor?”

“Steve,” he says, his expression lightening up somewhat. “You can call me Steve.”

You glance at his name tag that says Brendan Kemp, MD. “But—”

He scoots forward and puts his hands on your knees, rubbing over them. It pushes the hem of your dress up by the barest degree, but you ignore it. He’s looking you closely in the eyes. He looks sweet, and kind. And because of how handsome he is, how sure of himself too, it’s intimidating as hell. “Why don’t I have a look first, hm?” he says. “Give you my professional opinion, before you go deciding what needs fixing.”

You gulp and manage a tiny nod. “O-okay.” This is the part you’ve dreaded. Dr. Kemp (Steve, he’d told you to call him, but that just makes this whole experience feel more uncomfortable, more personal) scrutinizing your most private place.

He pulls out the stirrups from the end of the table and instructs you to put your legs up. “Take your shoes and underwear off and get comfy,” he says, smiling nicely at you as he says it, as if “comfy” is something you could possibly be while doing this.

He scoots away on his rolling stool to go over to the room’s counter and don latex gloves, giving you an illusion of privacy as you untie the laces of your shoes and slip them off your feet. They land on the floor with a muted ‘clunk’, and you slide your panties down your legs and tuck them under your lower back. They have a little wet spot on them that you don’t want Dr. Kemp to see. You slide down the table and put your feet into the stirrups, getting into the familiar, yet never-not-humiliating, position. You feel impossibly exposed, the cool air hitting between your legs and making you want to close them. As a useless, last-ditch effort, you straighten out the fabric of your dress so that it covers you to your knees, serving as a sort of barrier between you and him. “...Ready,” you say quietly, when it seems that he’s not going to return without your say-so.

He sits on the stool and rolls up close between your legs. You start trembling a little and you shut your eyes to try and calm down. “...Hey,” Kemp says, getting your attention. When you open your eyes again you see him standing over you, looking at your face instead of between your legs. “Honey,” he says gently. “You seem really nervous.”

You wince. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He looks kindly at you. “I just wanted to double check. You didn’t indicate any history of sexual assault on your intake form.”

You blanch. “Oh! N-no I— nothing like that.”

“Okay,” he says gently, patting your knee again. “Just wanted to make sure.”

You’re struck by how sweet that is of him, and you try to relax to show him you’re grateful for his care. “It’s okay, it’s fine,” you tell him as he sits back down on the stool. “This just… sucks, you know?”

“Mm.” You gasp as his gloved hands appear on your ankles and give an indicative tug. “Scoot down closer to the end of the table, Sweetheart.”

Heat floods you as you do as you’re told, putting your ass right to the edge of the table like he wants. It’s so humiliating. You want to cover your face with your hands, only refraining by gripping the edges of the padded table instead.

“Shh. Good girl,” he praises you, and you feel your belly clench at the words. Below you, he chuckles and self consciousness floods you as you think of what he must be seeing. You’re suddenly, horribly curious if you’re at all wet. Good God, you hope not. But your panties had been damp, that one little wet spot on the crotch… You tense again as Kemp’s hands appear on the inside edges of your knees, pushing them apart. “Open up for me now.”

You realize you’d been closing your legs together somewhat. “S-sorry,” you whisper.

He rubs your inner thigh—close to the knee but still shocking. “It’s okay. I know this is hard. I can tell you’re a woman who doesn’t spread her legs for many men.”

Your lips part as your mind reels, offended and horrified that he’d say that. Nevermind that it’s true, or that it sounds like he’s praising you, like he’s just calling you a ‘good girl’ in a different way. You seal your lips shut to keep yourself from scolding him.

The next thing you feel is him leaning closer. You swear you can feel his breath down there, but surely he wouldn’t be getting so close. You grit your teeth and try not to let your mind run away with itself. “So,” you say to try and make conversation, to try and prove to him and yourself that you’re a mature woman who can handle this. “So y-you can see. See what I mean.”

“Mm, still looking,” he says thoughtfully. You inhale sharply when he touches you, but you quickly slam your eyes shut and try to take calming breaths. You knew going into this that you’d need to be examined. He drags his fingers over your mons and down the puffy outer lips of your pussy. It’s extra sensitive to you because you’d shaved yourself completely bare before this appointment. Silly, maybe, but you’ve always thought that hair down there was unsightly, gross, and you didn’t want Dr. Hickory to have to deal with it.

Not that she’s dealing with you at all, now.

You bite your lip as you feel him exploring you slowly, with the barest of touches. He’s touching you in a way that feels more like a lover than a doctor. His thumbs gently dip into the crease of your outer lips and pull them apart, baring everything between. “Look at that,” he whispers, and you nearly cry out in mortification. You must whimper or something, because Dr. Kemp pauses and checks, “Still okay?”

You nod, eyes squeezed shut tightly. “Fine,” you say breathily. Deep breaths. He does this all the time. It’s no big deal to him. Just take deep— “Oh!”

He’s stroking the hood of your clit with the pad of a finger, just the barest, gliding touch. It’s slippery with something, and you feel halfway sick as you have to wonder if it’s a medical lubricant he’s somehow fetched, or your own arousal that he’s gathered up and is using to explore you. No, you think, it couldn’t be. He wouldn’t…

“You have a gorgeous pussy,” he breathes from between your legs.

“I… ex-excuse me?” you stutter. This time you can feel it when you clench and slick comes out of you. Dr. Kemp groans as if he’s seen it happen, and you feel your face flame. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, humiliated that you’re getting wet from this. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh sh sh,” he hushes you, one of his gloved hands smoothing over your inner thigh, this time much further up. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Your body’s just reacting naturally to being stimulated.” His gentle explanation does absolutely nothing to help with your situation, and you feel your belly tighten again in arousal. You whimper helplessly, somehow wanting him to comfort you. And he does. “Honey,” he breathes, going back to tracing the hood of your clit. His fingers move down, following the line of your inner lips, spreading them out and gliding over the thickest parts of them. Shame curls in your gut as you remember the words you ex had used:

“Fucking luscious,”

You blink at the ceiling tiles, shocked. Those had most certainly not been the words he’d used. “Um,” you start to say, but he interrupts you in a firm tone,

“Baby, listen to me, okay?” You’re frozen, unable to respond so he takes your silence for compliance. Between your legs, his fingers trace up and down the wet folds of your cunt. There’s no interpreting it any other way now—he’s caressing you. “This?” he says, whispering the words what feels like only inches from your skin. “This is your labia minora.”

You exhale shakily. “I—I know that.”

“Mm.” He keeps tracing them, keeps gliding around in the wetness that’s now becoming obscene. “It’s natural for you to look like this.”

“I just…” you stammer, still trying to bring this examination back into the realm of productive. “I th-think they’re too big. There’s too much…” you tense up at another wet stroke over your clit. “Too much...meat,” you grit out.

Between your legs, Steve makes a displeased sound. “That’s what the ex told you, huh?” He doesn't wait for you to answer, one of his thumbs sliding down, down, until it starts rubbing down at your taint, pushing right up against the edge of your pussy. You gasp and he shushes you. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong, here,” he murmurs, his breath a hot whoosh against you.

You whimper at the realization of how close he is to you now. “Please,” you whisper, “Dr. Kemp—”

“Steve,” he corrects gently, still thumbing circles of pressure into the thin skin at the edge of your hole, almost teasing, almost threatening with how close it is and how with only a little bit more pressure, a different angle, he could slide it right in. “I told you to call me Steve.” His other hand splays out over your mons, the thumb dipping down to swipe up and down over the hood of your clit. It’s a slick, gliding, barely-there touch. He’s hardly applying any pressure but that’s how you like it. You’re so sensitive there, and you can’t hold in the pitiful little moan that leaves your lips. Steve hums in approval. “Yeah,” he says, voice low and quiet. “You’ve got a prominent clitoral hood.”

You toss your head on the table, a whine building in your throat at his bold, clinical language. It doesn’t match his tone of voice or the way he’s touching you. This is so wrong. But you can’t stop it. You like it. He intimidates you horribly, and you like that, too.

He’s still stroking you there as he says, “What was that word you used, hm? ‘Meat’?”

You cringe.

“Well it is,” Steve says lowly. “Very meaty.” He traces your folds again, this time holding your labia delicately between his fingertips and rubbing the sensitive flesh. You just about die.

“St-steve, please,”

“And these lips,” he says, ignoring your pleas. “These gorgeous …juicy fucking folds.” he says, nearly growling the words. “Makes a man wanna lick, and suck…”

You go rigid at the first touch of his tongue. “Ohmygod,” you whisper, hips jolting up against his mouth without your permission. You’re about to apologize, but before you can, Dr. Kemp is loosing the filthiest, most appreciative groan, the tail end of the sound becoming muffled as he mashes his whole mouth against your pussy. “Holy—” Shit, you finish in your mind, unable to force words past your throat anymore. Steve mouths at you like he can’t wait, like he’s desperate, and you feel it as his tongue swipes broadly over your entire cunt. Your fingers spasm, digging painfully into the edges of the exam table as your whole body tenses up. “Oh, god,” you moan, hips jerking against his mouth.

He makes a muffled sound of pleasure and sucks everything he can into his mouth; your clit, your lips. He sucks, hard and sloppy, releasing it all with a loud, wet sound. “Fuck, honey,” he pants. “Never wanted to suck on a pussy so bad.” His hand returns to your mound, his thumb taking up the same swiping motion over your clit, only now you’re drenched and swollen, throbbing with sensitivity.

“Shit,” you whine, pressing up against his hand without realizing it at first.

He holds you down easily and flicks his thumb a little rougher, a little faster. “Yeah? He breathes, kissing at the edge of your sex, near your thigh in a move that is surprisingly sweet. “That feel good for you, Sweetheart?” You make an unplanned noise of assent, and he hums darkly. He’s pleased. “Good girl,” he says again, and flicks his thumb. “Such a big fat clit, and these pretty pink lips. Mmhm, so fucking plump. I could play with it all day, looove it.”

You toss your head, unable to take the words he’s saying. And he’s growling it all at you like it’s a good thing, like your pussy’s the best thing he’s ever seen. You can’t doubt for a second that he means it, but you’re just so overwhelmed by what he’s saying…

You make an embarrassingly high pitched sound when he presses a finger into you. “Oh!”

“Shsh,” he warns you, smoothing his other hand up the apex of your thigh, up under the fabric of your dress, over your belly. “Shh, honey. Don’t want the nurse to walk in, do you?”

You gasp, suddenly afraid of that possibility. He feels you get still and silent and soothes you with a heavy lick over your lips, the finger that’s inside of you curling. “You’re okay,” he promises, kissing your clit, sucking it and letting it pop from his mouth. You sob. “Shh. You’re okay.” He moves his finger shallowly, stroking you from the inside. It feels nice, and you exhale shakily, trying to calm yourself down.

“Steve,” you breathe. “You shouldn’t. We… I shouldn’t….”

All of a sudden he rises from the stool, standing to his full height and moving to the side of the table as he keeps his hand on you, in you. He stares down at you, his expression rapt but tender. It’s so much worse with him looking at you like this. It’s almost harder than when he had his face mashed against you and half your sex inside his mouth. It’s even more serious like this, you think as you blink up at him with parted lips. It’s more personal. He looks you right in the eyes, unfaltering, as he slips in another finger. You keen, and your hips press up into it, seeking. His lips curl, pleased. He moves his hand in such a firm, practiced way. He’s not pulling out very much at all. Not thrusting so much as he is rocking, grinding.

Inside, something starts to feel tight and desperate. You watch him watching you, watching it happen. He’s smiling, smug, he knows what he’s making you feel. “You’re soaking my hand, honey,” he murmurs, and you feel your cheeks flood hot with shame. “Uh uh,” he corrects you, stern. “No, it’s beautiful.”

He changes it, starts rocking deeper, curling against your walls and jabbing harder at that spot. It’s not an orgasm you feel so much as an urgency, and you squeak as the pressure builds. “S-something,” you try to say, try to tell him that something’s going to happen. But his eyes gleam in pleasure, like he already knows. Above your clit, the thumb of his hand starts rubbing in downward strokes: down down down. Holy fuck does it feel good. Your eyes slam shut as you feel it building, building and tightening. Oh—

“I want you to promise me,” Kemp says, and you’re shocked at how close his voice is. You open your eyes. He’s bent over, his face mere inches from yours as his hand keeps working. “Before I make you cum, I want you to promise me,” he growls. “Promise me that you’ll never let anybody cut on this fucking perfect pussy.”

You gasp, his words jabbing at the core of you almost as much as his fingers inside do, “Ahh-oh!”

“Promise me, Angel,” he says, rocking his hand harder, faster, harder. “Promise me now.”

“I… I…ha-oh! I pra–hom–mi–ssss!” Your eyes slam shut and your hips jerk against him as it happens. You cum, you cum hard. You hear him curse and know that he’s moving back down between your legs to look at your clenching cunt. He never stops jerking his hand into you, drawing the pleasure out. You’re loud. You squeal and shriek and jerk wildly through the whole thing, unable to control your body. It’s never felt this; this urgent, this out of control. You buck against his hand, feeling the wetness soaking everything beneath you, until finally it comes to an end.

He pulls out of you and uses both hands to spread your lips apart, staring. You whine and squirm, and then you really feel the extent of the wetness down there, and you blanch. “I—Oh no.” You try to sit up, try to pull away from him and get his hands off you, panicking. “I… I peed.” You struggle, mortified, pulling your feet from the stirrups and swinging them to the side of the table, trying to close yourself to him, trying to get off the table and—

“Heyheyhey, no. Hang on baby, calm down.” Steve stops you, his hands at your waist, keeping you seated on the table. He crowds you, holding you in place. “You didn’t honey, you didn’t. You’re okay.” He laughs. He’s laughing. You can’t believe it as you watch him. You begin to scowl, ready to be hurt and mad, but he hushes you with a kiss to your mouth.

You gasp and go silent, somehow more taken aback by this than anything he’s done yet. His mouth is so sure and confident over yours, his lips pillow soft but commanding. He pulls back from the kiss and looks at you. “You squirted, honey,” he explains, amusement still clear in his eyes, only now you’re calm enough that you can see the affection there, too. The satisfaction, the desire. He’s not making fun of you.

“What?” You look down to the end of the table, where you’d been splayed open for him. The paper covering and the vinyl padding of the table are soaked with a clear liquid. You look down to your lap, which is barely covered by the material of your bunched up sundress now. Between your thighs, it feels wet too. “I… I did?” you nearly whisper, astounded.

He laughs affectionately and leans in to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, Angel, you did. It was amazing.”

You flush and tuck your head down, feeling tingly from his obvious approval. The things he’d said about your body… “You really meant it?” you ask. “All the—”

“Yes,” he says firmly. He tips your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “Hey,” he says gently. “Remember what you promised me.”

You squirm uncomfortably. Maybe he finds you attractive, but you can’t help but to worry about other guys, about the future partners you’ll have. Steve might like it, but he’s just one man. The fact remains that down between your legs, you still look like most of the before halves of the before and after pictures. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, apologetic to dismiss his opinion of you. “But I just… I want my next boyfriend to think I’m pretty, there,” you say reluctantly, glancing up at him.

He has a fierce gleam in his eyes as he boldly tells you, “He already does,” and then surges down to kiss you again.

It’s been a long day. With both his own patients and a bunch of Hickory’s to see to as well, Steve is pretty tired by the time 5:00 rolls around and the office staff is closing up. He changes out of his scrubs and lab coat, back into his gym shorts and sneakers that he’ll jog home in. That’s how Cassie finds him. “Brendan, check it out!” She holds up her phone for him to see the picture of a wet, vaguely purple-colored newborn. “Boy,” she tells him. “Five pounds, whatever ounces. Small but healthy. She says they’re naming him Grady Harrison.”

Steve grins. “Awww.” What a horrible name.

Cassie puts her phone away and tilts her head at him. “A bunch of us are going for drinks. You want to come?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m beat. Gonna head home soon.”

“Mm. You know your nickname is Boring Brendan,” she teases, grabbing up her purse and heading for the exit.

“It is not,” he laughs, waving her out the door. “I’m just gonna finish up with a few notes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She waves goodbye and the office door falls shut, locking behind her because he’s the last one there and the office manager already left. Steve walks behind the partition of the nurse’s station and sits down, booting up one of the computers. He clicks the mouse over a few folders, typing in his password when it prompts him for entry into the patient data files. There’s one in particular whom he wants to learn everything he can about.

He finds the folder marked with her name:

Moreau, Ann J.

The corner of his mouth ticks up and he clicks to open the file. “Ann,” he murmurs the name, remembering the taste of her cunt against his tongue, filling his mouth, his senses. Mmm. She’d been delicious, exquisite. Not taking his eyes away from the computer screen, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the tiny scrap of lace she'd left behind in her hurry to escape him. He holds the panties under his nose, inhaling. Fuck, he thinks, remembering her delicate body in that delicate cotton dress, how she'd cried out and creamed herself for him. So sweet.

He wants to learn more about her, fully plans on tracking her down and taking her on a date. On many dates, if he can.

Because he’s never been the type to be satisfied by just one taste.

Masterlist

If you liked what you read and feel so inclined, please consider dropping a tip in the Kofi🍵 cup!

[globalgrowthinsights]

Tire Machinery Market Size, Share, Growth, Trends [2032]

Tire Machinery Market provides in-depth analysis of the market state of Tire Machinery manufacturers, including best facts and figures, overview, definition, SWOT analysis, expert opinions, and the most current global developments. The research also calculates market size, price, revenue, cost structure, gross margin, sales, and market share, as well as forecasts and growth rates. The report assists in determining the revenue earned by the selling of this report and technology across different application areas.

Geographically, this report is segmented into several key regions, with sales, revenue, market share and growth Rate of Tire Machinery in these regions till the forecast period

North America

Middle East and Africa

Asia-Pacific

South America

Europe

Key Attentions of Tire Machinery Market Report:

The report offers a comprehensive and broad perspective on the global Tire Machinery Market.

The market statistics represented in different Tire Machinery segments offers complete industry picture.

Market growth drivers, challenges affecting the development of Tire Machinery are analyzed in detail.

The report will help in the analysis of major competitive market scenario, market dynamics of Tire Machinery.

Major stakeholders, key companies Tire Machinery, investment feasibility and new market entrants study is offered.

Development scope of Tire Machinery in each market segment is covered in this report. The macro and micro-economic factors affecting the Tire Machinery Market

Advancement is elaborated in this report. The upstream and downstream components of Tire Machinery and a comprehensive value chain are explained.

Browse More Details On This Report at @https://www.globalgrowthinsights.com/market-reports/tire-machinery-market-100006

 Global Growth Insights

Web: https://www.globalgrowthinsights.com

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[pangalark]

Pangalark Laboratory Technology , Grossing station Pathology

Since its founding in 1984, Pangalark Laboratory Technology Pty Ltd has been offering buyers outstanding service at reasonable costs. We have an unmatched dedication to customer satisfaction and a variety of goods to suit all laboratory requirements.

Pangalark offers all the supplies, lab equipment, and other necessities you might possibly require. We always have helpful people on hand to answer questions and offer guidance, making the purchasing experience as simple as possible.

We are pleased to assist you in locating the ideal product for your needs and can be reached via phone or email. When you choose Pangalark for your lab needs, you will receive excellent service and excellent products.

Website https://www.pangalark.com.au/

Mail ID: sales@pangalark.com.au

Phone no: +61 7 3823 5984

[adelinajonsan]

Photo dyne Technologies provides special macro photography systems for histology, grossing, and archiving in the areas of pathology, medical examiners, forensics, universities and research 0 labs. See us at The United States and Canadian Academy of Pathology (USCAP), March 04, 2017 to March 10, 2017, Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Centre, San Antonio, TX

Our units come complete with top of the line digital cameras and proprietary software, allowing the user to take pictures directly from the computer. All the major attributes of the camera are controllable from the computer, with the scene view able on the screen in real time before snapping the picture; the user can adjust the scene to fit precise needs before taking the shot.

[rosy0124]

Photodyne Technologies gives uncommon large scale photography frameworks to histology, netting, and filing in the territories of pathology, clinical inspectors, crime scene investigation, colleges and research.Our units come total with first class computerized cameras and restrictive programming, permitting the client to take pictures legitimately from the PC. All the significant properties of the camera are controllable from the PC, with the scene perceptible on the screen progressively before snapping the image; the client can change the scene to fit exact needs before taking the shot.

[myallison0234]

Histology Lab Equipment Manufacturers

Photodyne Technologies provides special macro photography systems for histology, grossing, and archiving in the areas of pathology, medical examiners, forensics, universities and research 0 labs. See us at The United States and Canadian Academy of Pathology (USCAP), March 04, 2017 to March 10, 2017, Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center, San Antonio, TX

Our units come complete with top of the line digital cameras and proprietary software, allowing the user to take pictures directly from the computer. All the major attributes of the camera are controllable from the computer, with the scene viewable on the screen in real time before snapping the picture; the user can adjust the scene to fit precise needs before taking the shot.

DEMONSTRATION OF MODEL 702

The Demonstration of model 702 pictures are stored automatically on the hard drive in a user’s specified location.

§  Top of the line digital cameras with high resolution

§  Enhanced safety by means of low-voltage D.C. operation

§  Proprietary software included

§  Direct USB  connection betweent he system and the PC, no need to download

§  Computer controlled camera, enabling scene and specimen viewing on the screen in real time

§  Hands-free operation with a foot controller

§  Various sizes and models, from the small to large to full body; custom available

Above image shows our top of the line model, which comes with a flat screen, keyboard and mouse drawer, and space for the computer and additional hardware below the main unit. The unit is situated on a movable medical-grade cart for easy transport.

SYSTEMS & MODELS

Three basic lab models are available: Model 701 is a floor system, complete with a movable cart structure that allows one to store the computer and other hardware in the bottom section; Model 702 is a table top unit, to be used on a table in your lab, and model 703 is a smaller unit, also a desk-top model.The larger two units have an area of about 20 by 30 inches on top available for specimen photography. Model 703, a smaller machine, has a top area of 13 by 19. The height of the machines is about 8 inches, with the exception of the Console (Floor Model) which is attached to a movable cart with four wheels for easy moving. Please see above drawings for more details

Model 801 is a full body system, designed to be placed permanently in the morgue. This unit is installed at your location by our personnel; it can take a shot of an entire body, looking from above. The system is designed to fit your exact needs in the morgue; please call our office for more details and to discuss your specific needs.

 DIGITAL IMAGING SOFTWARE

All Photodyne’s units come complete with a proprietary software package allowing total operation of the camera from the PC. Two software packages are available:

1.      Photodyne Capture: This program controls the camera from the PC via the mouse or the keyboard; it allows the user to view the scene in real time via a Live View window, and the user snaps the picture with the mouse, the keyboard or a foot controller. The program stores the data directly on the computer in a user defined folder, and the images can be tagged and annotated before and after the shot. All the major attributes of the camera are controllable from the PC.

2.      PAX-it: “Photodyne is proud to offer PAX-it software as an upgrade to our systems”

3.      PAX-it digital imaging software is designed to manage your imaging workflow, making it easy to capture images directly from the Photodyne workstation into a brows able, sort able, and searchable image collection. Images may be automatically sorted by project number or case number, and they are stored in a database of your design so that important information may be tagged to images.

4.      Additional useful tools present in PAX-it allow storing, retrieving, displaying, and working with your images. You may annotate images, create presentations and reports, attach notes to images, attach images to email, place images side by side, and much more!

5.      Additional PAX-it software modules allow further expansion of your lab’s imaging capabilities, including network site licensing, scripting abilities, measurement and image analysis modules, and more. Please refer to our price list for cost details on this software package. For more information on the PAX-it digital imaging software click here.

Contact Us :-

Address :- Photodyne Techonologies,8158 Gould Ave,Los Angeles, CA 90046

Phone:  3104970968

Toll Free: 1.800.660.2147

Fax: 310.652.2820

Website :- https://photodyne.com/

[gautierprotectionsquad]

Crossover fic: Cut&Run / AFTG. Ty Grady/Zane Garrett. Andrew Minyard/Neil Josten. Trying my best at being canon compliant.

Summary: Ty and Zane work in the Baltimore offices of the FBI. Neil Josten was taken in by the FBI in Baltimore. This crossover was practically handed right to me and the only reason no one has wrote it is bc of the lack of overlap between fandoms. Hope someone enjoys.

The Federal Bureau of Investigation in Baltimore have been after The Butcher for over 10 years. They knew it was Nathan Wesninski but were never able to gather enough evidence to convince. Well, Mr. Wesninski had just returned home from prison and the FBI were ready with a welcome home present just for him. Or at least so they thought.

Ty Grady stood, pointed his gun, ready to shoot while someone shouted "FBI. PUT YOUR HANDS UP" and agents entered the building. Someone was sitting in a chair in front of Nathan Wesninski's house. As he got closer, Ty realized that they were bleeding, another couple steps, realized they were tied to the chair.

He was just a boy. The boy smiled, crazed.

  "My name is Nathaniel Wesninski and my father is dead." The boy couldn't stop laughing.

Agents left the building. One of them said "sir, everyone was dead when we walked in. No survivors. Confirmed that one of the bodies was Wesninski's.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  ***

  "I wasn't even aware Wesninki had a kid," Zane said as he watched Nathaniel through the 2-sided mirror.

   "No one did. This is so fucked up. Tortured his own damn kid." Ty couldn't jeep the anger out of his voice. He came in first thing to see how the kid was doing, wanting to know what they’ve gotten out of him so far. They needed this kid. He was the only thing they had to crack down on the rest of the Butcher’s people.

   Nathaniel aka Neil Josten had just gotten out of the hospital and was now being interrogated by two fbi agents. The boy was completely covered in bandages covering up burn marks from god knows what and deep cuts all over.

   One of the agents left the room. "He's refusing to talk.”

   “That man almost killed him but he’s protecting his people now?” Zane asked.

   “No. He wants to talk to his team first.”

   "Team?" Zane asked

   "Neil Josten is the star striker for the Palmetto State Foxes exy team," Ty answered.

   "You've got to be kidding me. He's been on TV?"

   The other agent spoke. "They've been looking for him. We already called his coach. They're on their way in a discreet van. They'll be here soon."

****

His teammates were insane. Every single one of them. The Palmetto State Foxes were famous for being a team filled with problem children that the rest of society gave up on as well as being insanely talented. Every. Single. One of them refused to talk. The only thing they'd say is "Let me see Neil" and nothing else. Ty didn't think they knew anything anyway. It wasn't until a five foot gremlin pulled a knife on one of the agents that they decided to let them all get their way. But not without the knife kid getting handcuffed to his coach.

They put them all in a hotel room and gave them 20 minutes.

Neil agreed to tell them everything as long as Andrew, the knife gremlin, came with and that he not be put in witness protection. Instead, he'll be allowed to live his life as Neil Josten of the Palmetto State Foxes.

  "Wait. He doesn't want witness protection?" Zane asked, confused.

  "The coach is just as insane as the rest of them. Yeah. Nathaniel would rather play exy." said agent Brown, his hands in the air, angry that Neil had threatened him and gotten what he wanted.

For some reason, it didn't sit right with Ty that Brown was still calling him Nathaniel. Everyone that cared about the kid considered him Neil. Anyway, referring to the kid as Nathaniel Wesninski when his father's name was Nathan Wesninski was confusing as fuck and such a headache for Ty. Neil Josten was easier.

  "It's sort of smart. He's a public figure. We can't take him away without everyone knowing what happened. And someone's bound to recognize him from tv. Being so visible makes him easy to find but it's also it's own form of protection. No one can kill him without risking cameras or everyone on the news talking about it."

  As if to prove Ty's point, the station they were currently on started talking about Neil Josten, the sports anchors all taking a guess at what happened based only on rumors. Some of them were right, that he was kidnapped, while others were outlandish and, unfortunately for Neil Josten, not nearly as outlandish as the reality. Can't kidnap a public figure without everyone talking about it.

  They all took shifts to take notes on Neil's story. It started when he was just 10 years old and it was long and impressive. Even agent Brown stopped giving Neil shit after learning about their choice to keep running rather than staying with another crime family for protection. Andrew sat next to him the whole time, clearly a calming presence for Neil, giving him strength.

  Ty and Zane both came into the interrogation room after 3 hours. Zane handed Neil and Andrew some food.

  "Looks like we're in the 7th inning stretch" Ty said, hoping to lighten the mood.

  "I don't speak baseball," Neil said.

  Ty gave Zane a pained look. Zane just smiled.

  "Half time, then. Are those in exy?" Ty asked, not able to remove his rude tone.

  That resulted in Neil giving a 10 minute long speech about the rules of exy. Zane was probably imagining it but for a second he thought he saw a pained look in Andrew's eyes before he went back to his usual bland expression.

  Ty put his hand up. "I'm going to have to stop you there. Breaks over. We should get your story over with. The sooner you finish, the sooner we can all go home."

  That shut him up. He sighed, looked at Andrew for support, then continued where he left off. His father had caught up to him and his mother and his mother had stopped to fight back. She was hurt. Bad. But she kept driving until they got to a beach and then died. Neil didn't specify which beach but he told them that he burned the car and then buried her, got rid of all their belongings and evidence and set up his current and final identity. Neil Josten. How he gave up running and just let his father capture him when he threatened his teammates.

  Ty felt like he was leaving some things out but it didn't matter. They were getting names, they were going to bring Nathan Wesninski's people down. The kid was a pathological liar forced to spill his whole unfortunate life story. Let him keep a few secrets.

  When he got to his father's "birthday present" Ty couldn't stop himself from gagging. Zane grimaced, also grossed out. Especially because Neil said it so casually.

  "Don't worry. It was animal blood," he said as if it made everything better. Ty was reminded of Neil's look of delight when he said his father was dead. That kid was going to need some major therapy.

  Ty and Zane went home late that night, not even caring if people saw them leaving together. Ty drove one handed, the other hand clasped in Zane's, resting on Zane's thigh. Neither of them spoke, knowing that both of them were thinking about Neil Josten aka Alex Rodriguez aka Johnathan Collins aka Henry West and so on and so forth. A kid that grew up with a serial killer and mobster for a father and the scars to prove it. A kid kept hidden and then forced on the run until he couldn't run anymore.

   Ty knew Neil was lying about not knowing where the rest of the money his mother stole from his father was but Ty didn't give a shit. Not like the other agents like Brown would. Let the kid have it.

  Finally, Zane spoke up. "So what the fuck is exy?"

  Ty chuckled. "Didn't you hear the kid's 10 minute long rant?"

  "Those rules don't even make any sense. How is it even physically possible to stop a goal. And what do you mean mouth guards are optional?"

  "I'll put a game on when we get home and you'll see. I hear the knife gremlin's insanely talented. Like Olympian level."

  Zane lay on the couch while Ty put on a rerun of a Palmetto Foxes exy game, the one right before Neil got kidnapped. Ty plopped down on the top of Zane, making Zane grunt, and got comfortable.

  Zane read more about the players on his phone. Seeing that 2 of the foxes, including Andrew Minyard's twin brother, were recovering drug addicts made him a lot more invested in the game.

THE END.

[northernstories]

Meet Heather Isaacson, a education specialist graduate student and speech, language, hearing sciences professor from Marquette, Michigan. Heather is the outstanding graduating graduate student in the School of Education, Leadership and Public Service. We asked Heather a few questions about her NMU experience: 

Why did you decide to come to NMU?  

Heather: Ultimately, my choice was due to the fact that I wanted to be a part of the Education Specialist program. Enrollment in the program would allow me to meet my aspirations of enhancing my values as an educator and allow me to become a leader in education. Obtaining the Northern Michigan University Education Specialist degree is also the stepping-stone, which allowed me to become part of the Western Michigan University – Interdisciplinary Health Sciences Ph.D. program.

Most importantly, I believe I can always make improvements in myself. By engaging in the NMU Educational Specialist program, I set a goal and attained the ultimate outcome. This program has provided me with an opportunity to improve my educational tactics and content. Like students at all levels of education, my goal is and will continue to be to improve while having a positive impact on others.

What's an example of a cool, interesting or helpful thing that you have done as a part of your major?

Heather: As part of my leadership development, I was the lead Speech-Language Pathology Supervisor for a two-week program based in the Central American country of Belize. The make-up of my team was another certified Speech-Language Pathologist and undergraduate students who are interested in pursuing a career in speech-language pathology (speech therapy), audiology or a related field. This is an ideal program for students who are interested in taking advantage of learning from professional American Speech-Language-Hearing Association (ASHA) accredited speech-language pathologists (SLPs) and Therapy Abroad staff in order to learn more about this remarkable field of study. Students gained hands-on experience rarely found in the classroom, professional observation hours, one-on-one time with SLPs and other professionals, intercultural exchange, a better understanding of global issues, and a chance to help children with special needs and their families.

Belize is well known for its beaches, eco-lodges, and jungles rich with Mayan ruins. Belize is also the only Central American country with English as its official language, which made it the perfect place to dive into an overseas learning adventure in communication disorders. Students on this program had the opportunity to snorkel turquoise waters, go cave tubing & zip lining through tropical forest, explore coastal villages, and Mayan ruins, and indulge in mouth-watering local cuisine. Belize is a tropical paradise steeped in history, mythology and beauty. Students on this program had the opportunity to experience a little of everything that Belize has to offer. In addition, students worked with schools and other community partners to help Belize meet a huge demand for speech and language services.

My team worked with government organizations, non-governmental organizations (NGOs), private clinics and charitable organizations to bring services to children throughout the country. Focusing on grassroots community based outreach, students worked directly with ASHA licensed SLPs and other professionals including physical therapists (PTs), occupational therapists (OTs), social workers (SWs) and medical doctors (MDs) in small groups, and learned about speech & language disorders, feeding, swallowing disorders, behavior modification, disabilities, and special needs in multicultural environments with speakers of English as a second language. Working directly with school aged children, students gained invaluable hands-on experience through fun play based activities. Students also observed evaluations, conducted field based speech & language screens, developed and implemented intervention plans and learned through planned discussions.

The goals and priorities of this program were determined by working directly with the government, local communities, schools, NGOs, charities, and hospitals. Therapy Abroad students and staff provided essential services such as speech & language screenings, evaluations, and intervention. Students and staff will also take part in a communications learning camp for children with special needs designed around skill-based stations (learning centers)-speaking/listening/learning/ sensory/fine & gross motor skills. Each day students had group discussion as well as one on one time with SLPs and other professionals. As part of the collaboration with local organizations, students also took part in home-based field visits. This was an incredibly unique, culturally rich and important part of the learning experience for all of the students. I visited children and adults with special needs in their own homes, as part of a small interdisciplinary team consisting of SLPs, social workers and medical doctors. My team  worked with children and parents focusing on speech & language, swallowing disorders and special education. My team learned, observed, and shared ideas and worked on developing critical observation skills in a home environment. Time was also set aside to learn new concepts, practice skills and learn about Belizean culture and history. In addition, my team gained hands-on and observational experience while working in a variety of settings, leadership experience as well as insight and discussion on applying to graduate schools and career opportunities as an SLP. Many aspects of the program were inherently spontaneous and based on the individual skills, background and interest of the students, creating what is believed to be the best type of deep learning experience.

What are you involved with on campus?

Heather: I hold a Master of Arts (M.A.) in Speech-Language Pathology degree and the Certificate of Clinical Competence from the American-Speech-Language-Hearing Association. I have experienced a variety of clinical settings as a speech-language pathologist, which include the hospital, rehabilitation center, school, and long-term care settings from 2005 to 2012. Since 2012, I have taught full-time at NMU. I am entering my 8th year teaching at Northern. My clinical work has focused on a wide range of speech, language and swallowing disorders with special interests in the areas of traumatic brain injury and dysphagia. As a professor and supervisor in the NMU Speech, Language, and Hearing Sciences program, I adopt different roles as needed – teacher, consultant, counselor, evaluator.

Outside of school, what do you enjoy?  

Heather: First, I am a mother of three wonderful children – this is not a hobby but takes up a majority of my time when I am not at work. However, I am incredible juggler ☺ meaning that I can juggle every aspect of my life from being a mother, a teacher, a CEO of my home and family to every other thing in between. On a serious note, I love fitness and leading a healthy life style. I also love to read when I have the opportunity – some of my most recent books that I have read include, Love Anthony, Inside O’Brien’s, The Great Alone, and Magic Hour. I also love traveling.

Outside of the classroom, I enjoy spending time with my husband, Tom and three children, Lyla (10), Elyise (8), and Oscar (5). Their big personalities are so fun and different; it has been an adventure to watch them grow. My biggest desire is to help foster their own interests. They are interested in travelling so they have been on a few excursions. This summer we traveled to Italy and each one of us loved the experience and will be returning very soon! I also traveled to Belize as part of a program called Therapy Abroad during which I supervised undergraduate students. Students gained hands-on experience rarely found in the classroom, professional observation hours, one-on-one time with SLPs and other professionals, intercultural exchange, a better understanding of global issues, and a chance to help children with special needs and their families.

What does “be Northern” mean to you?

Heather: “be Northern” means to exhibit stoic determination:

Courage – to manage fear of failure

Conscientiousness – focus on being achievement-oriented

Endurance – to follow through on long-term goals

Resilience – to maintain optimism, confidence, and creativity

Excellence – focus to seek excellence not perfection

What are your hopes or plans after graduation?

Heather: After graduation, I will be pursuing my PhD through Western Michigan University’s Interdisciplinary Health Sciences Program. Through this program I will be furthering my career as a researcher, higher education faculty, and become a leader of interdisciplinary approaches to problem solving. This program focuses on improving health and human services in all areas of society.

[pangalarklaboratory]

Pangalark - Pathology Grossing Stations

Since its founding in 1984, Pangalark Laboratory Technology Pty Ltd has been offering buyers outstanding service at reasonable costs. We have an unmatched dedication to customer satisfaction and a variety of goods to suit all laboratory requirements.

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Website https://www.pangalark.com.au/

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[bigtittyhimmler-blog]

Luke Turner fights antisemitism

It is without pleasure that I must announce that the door of the third bathroom stall to the left in Berlin Ostbanhof train station has chosen to participate in a virulent antisemitic hate campaign against me by slamming itself shut on my exposed dick, inflicting serious damage to my penile tissue, and causing the end of my dick to turn purple and swell alarmingly. While this attack was shocking, it was sadly not unexpected. Doors have a long and documented history of collaboration with far-right ideology. For instance, the Nazi architect Albert Speer’s designs frequently involved doors or door-like structures. This attack was clearly intended to evoke cruel and disgraceful antisemitic tropes: by mutilating my dick, the door alluded to the notion of the ‘castrated Jew,’ while also mocking the religious practice of circumcision.

This vile attack has forced me to withdraw from the bathrooms at Berlin Ostbanhof train station, where I can no longer allow strange men to fuck me in the ass. I encourage my fellow artists, writers, and curators to do the same. I suggest that the train station be demolished entirely, and replaced with a public showing of my 2014 artwork WHAT IS A TWIG, consisting of a black canvas printed with the words ‘what is a twig’ in a different shade of black. I have written to every company that posted advertisements in the Ostbanhof, asking them why they continue to support structurally antisemitic institutions. While I am still awaiting a reply, I am shocked that trains are continuing at stop at this station, literally platforming abuse.

It should be obvious why this is taking place. The violence against me has severely disrupted #TRUMPISARIGHTWANKER, a performance art piece in which I livestream myself gently masturbating for eight solid days to footage of my previous work, #TWOFINGERSFORTRUMP, itself a video installation that shows me masturbating to my 2017 intervention, #BUGGERTRUMP. (This last work, an extended touring project, was sabotaged by alt-right fascists who perforated one of my testicles with a kebab skewer.) My art aims to create a participatory, welcoming, and loving digital space in which the public is invited to take part in the process of artistic production by telling me how wonderful I am. As such, it’s a powerful rebuke against the politics of racism and division.

I wish I could say that this assault was an isolated incident. However, as a result of my courage in speaking up against people I don’t like, there have been multiple racist attacks on me and my work from within the art world in only the last 36 hours:

Instagram user “@squantblort” published a photograph of a frog sitting on a lilypad. The frog has an unfortunate association with the fascist ‘alt-right’ movement, which has repeatedly threatened, harassed, wedgied, and humiliated me. This image was ‘liked’ by CUNY adjunct Daniel Daintree, a supposedly ‘left-wing’ intellectual who clearly has no problem indulging in racist imagery. I demand that Daintree be fired.

Well-known New York artist Julia Klurpell had a dream about me in which I was a glob of tar floating in a gutter. Associating Jews with gutters, filth, disease, and sewage is a rancid and ugly antisemitic trope, deployed frequently in Nazi propaganda. Despite the art world’s silence on this utterly unacceptable dream, I’m brave enough to insist that there is no possible excuse for platforming racist harassment inside your own head. I demand that Klurpell submit to a full frontal lobotomy.

In the Crafts 4 Kidz workshop in Bridgewater, Nova Scotia, an eight-year-old boy failed to spin a bowl on a potter’s wheel, and said that ‘the Turner is stupid.’ Attributing personal failures to Jewish influence is a shocking and vile antisemitic trope. By allowing this child to remain on its premises, the Crafts 4 Kidz workshop has directly platformed hate speech and enabled harassment against Jewish artists. I demand a) a full and sincere apology from the workshop b) that the child be permanently deplatformed from Crafts 4 Kids, along with all other workshops, galleries, exhibition spaces, biennales, and places that look nice, c) that before he’s ejected the child’s ceramics are smashed in front of him, d) that all Crafts 4 Kids employees take turns stamping on the shards of broken pottery, and e) restitution of $1.6 million. Only then can the Crafts 4 Kids workshop begin to repair the damage wrought by its long history of complicity with fascism.

The Louvre is in Europe, a continent historically occupied by Nazis, and contains none of my works.

When I started furiously retweeting myself about all this, twitter user “@homosexual_kumquats” harassed, gaslit, and cruelly taunted me, telling me to ‘calm down dude’ and ‘get a grip.’ This gaslighting is clearly an example of antisemitic denialism, insinuating that Nazi hate crimes like the Holocaust or the eight-year-old boy’s pottery comment were ‘false flags,’ invented by Jews. Who is “@homosexual_kumquats”? How are they connected to the violent hate campaign being waged against me by the door, the frog, the dream, the child, the Louvre, the sky, and the moon? I am going to spend three months exhaustively going through their social media history. I am going to find out where they live, and install listening devices in their home to see if they ever laugh at any joke at my expense. I am engaged in calling out fascism and antisemitism in the art world, and if anyone publicly states that this is ‘bizarre’ or ‘creepy’ or ‘obsessive,’ or that I’m a ‘dead-eyed narcissist,’ or that I’m ‘pathologically fixated on trying to cause suffering for others under the flimsy pretense of fighting oppression,’ or that I ‘hide behind a Jewish identity to deflect any and all criticism of my stalkerish fixations,’ or that I believe ‘all such criticism of myself or my deeply weird behavior is inherently illegitimate and racist,’ or that I’m a ‘big dumb crybaby bitch who can’t stop writing open letters every time someone upsets me,’ or that I’m ‘the heir to the vast Turner-Bianca PLC textiles fortune, and have used that money to buy myself an art career I don’t really deserve, which is kinda par for the course in the industry, but instead of actually producing any worthwhile art I’ve chosen to deploy my incredibly privileged position to mount endless crusades against extremely marginal art-world figures while ludicrously positioning myself as a perpetual victim,’ or that I’m a ‘habitual liar and hysteric,’ or that I’m ‘drunk on moral self-righteousness,’ or that I ‘keep pretending that the contemporary art scene, which is probably the safest place for Jewish people in the world, is actually a hive of antisemitism, because some weirdos who make frog sculptures don’t like me,’ or that I’m ‘riding the coat-tails of a popular and necessary movement against fascism to pursue my own personal vendettas,’ or that I ‘seem to take particular delight in trying to disrupt the careers and livelihoods of young women,’ or that my face ‘looks like a squished bug,’ or that I ‘got my dick trapped in the door at a train station bathroom while jerking off to footage of myself and now it’s turned all gross and purple,’ then this can only be because they’re fascists and antisemites themselves.

[globalgrowthinsights]

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[loroparque-orcas]

June 23rd, 2018 marks 8 years since Morgan’s rescue

Morgan is a young, female orca currently residing at Loro Parque, Tenerife, Spain. Her birth year is estimated to be around 2008, based off her length nowadays and back when she was found.

June 23rd, 2010. A young, female orca, estimated to be between 1 and 2 years of age, was found swimming in shallow waters off of the coast of the Netherlands. Orcas aren’t common in that area, so having one in Dutch waters, experts knew something was up immediately. Morgan never stranded, however, she was always free swimming up until the Dolfinarium managed to get her into one of the slings, and onto a boat to escort her to Dolfinarium.

On June 23rd, 2010 Dolfinarium in Harderwijk, the Netherlands, got a Rescue, Rehabilitation and Release permit to capture Morgan and transport her to a rehabilitation/medical tank in Dolfinarium. Upon inspection, Morgan was found to be extremely underweight and mildly dehydrated, showing off a peanuthead (a clear sign of dehydration/malnutrition). Morgan weighed approximately 430 kg and was about 3.5 meters in length.

Up until the 29th of November, 2011, Morgan spent her time in the small backpool that was her rehabilitation pool. Being all alone, Morgan quickly became attached to humans. Orcas are incredibly social animals and dependent on other orcas for their survival. Being all alone and young, with no one else around, Morgan got used to the humans around her and started forming bonds with them.

Initial treatment consisted of saline infusions and broad spectrum antibiotics. Blood analysis revealed an inflammatory reaction, microcytic regenerative anaemia and mild dehydration. Upon admission she was offered a few fish which she took. Clinical inspections during the initial period after her admission including multiple advanced research techniques for viral and bacterial diagnostics of multiple organ systems (respiratory, digestive, and renal) revealed no other gross pathology than dermatitis and severe malnourishment. In the first week after admission, faeces mainly containing algae were found multiple times. (click)

In the next three months, Morgan grew and gained weight, reaching almost 700 kilograms. She started to look more like an orca. With her weight gain, her energy levels increased tremendously. Within several months, Dolfinarium allowed guests to view Morgan up close and personal, for several hours a day. Orcas are rare in the Netherlands. Dolfinarium used to be an inbetween facility for orcas captured in Iceland. They would remain at Dolfinarium for a while, so that US marine parks could get the right permits. Then they would import the orcas. The most famous orca in the Netherlands, besides Morgan, was Gudrun.

Being allowed visitors and having Dolfinarium staff closely interact with her didn’t help her rehabilitation. As a response on that, several organisations banded together like the Orka Coalitie and the Free Morgan Foundation. They wanted to see Morgan returned to Norway, where she is originally from. This pressure from these groups had Dolfinarium contacting people of NAKID, who were and still are at the time, documentaring orcas in the North Atlantic to create valuable ID guides for the populations of orcas living in the North Atlantic.

On the 5th of November, “Identification of Morgan’s discrete stereotyped call repertoire and matching to sounds recorded from wild North Atlantic killer whales“ was published by members of the NAKID research group. The report states:

“We found good ‘likely’ matches to 3 of the 9 stereotyped calls in Morgan’s repertoire with calls recorded from Norwegian pod NP, one possible match was to Norwegian pod NA, and another possible match to an unknown pod of herring-feeding killer whales. Our results strongly indicate that Morgan is from the Norwegian herring-feeding population of killer whales. However, many of Morgan’s calls, including the most commonly produced call type, did not match any calls in our catalog ascribed to pod NP. Pod NP is also reported to produce sounds which were not identified in Morgan’s repertoire. Thus, we cannot conclude that pod NP is Morgan’s natal pod, but we do consider it likely that Morgan is from a group closely related to pod NP. Identification of Morgan’s natal pod using acoustic sharing is made difficult by our limited knowledge of group-specific calling patterns in Norwegian killer whales, and how call repertoires might vary over time.”

Dolfinarium gathered all the information that they could on Morgan, they eventually sent out their report to 7 indepent scientific advisors (C.J. Camphuysen (Royal NIOZ, Netherlands, John K.B. Ford (Cetacean Research Program, Pacific Biological Station, Canada), Christophe Guinet (Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, France), Markid Leopold (IMARES, Netherlands), Christina Lockyer (The North Atlantic Marine Mammal Commission, Norway), James McBain (Doctor in veterinarian medicine expert in killer whales USA), Fernando Ugarte (Head of Mammal and Bird Department of the Greenland Institure of Natural Resources)) to decide over Morgan’s possibility for release. All the information was gathered into one summary report with expert opinions in the matter. Knowing still so little of Norwegian orcas, having not found a complete match to one of Norway’s orca pods and knowing that Morgan was severely underweight when she was found, suggesting she was not able to hunt on her own, found the experts agreeing that it was highly unlikely Morgan could be successfully released back into the waters of Norway and survive. (click)

Other groups didn’t give up, though. Free Morgan Foundation devised a complete rehabilitation and release plan for Morgan. This release plan can be found here: (click).

From May through November 2011 court cases and lawsuits were filed by organisations claiming Morgan could be successfully released, delaying Morgan’s move to Loro Parque again and again. In the mean time, Morgan resided in the tank that was becoming too small for her. At last, on November 29th, 2011 Morgan was transported to Loro Parque, Tenerife, Spain, where five other orcas resided, owned by Loro Parque.

Morgan was transported under a CITES permit. There is still a lot of discussion about it, especially whether Morgan can perform and breed. I’ve explained her certificate in detail here (click).

In the end, Loro Parque is allowed to breed Morgan and use her in shows. As the photo shows above, certain boxes have been ticked.

Morgan’s CITES permit states: It is hereby certified that the specimens described above: ((x) bold are the ones ticked)

(x)were taken from the wild in accordance with the legislation in force in the issuing Member State;

are abandoned or escaped specimens that were recovered in accordance with the legislation in force in the issuing Member State;

are captive born-and-bred or artificially propagated specimens;

were acquired in or introduced into the Community in compliance with the provisions of Regulation (EC) No 338/97;

were acquired in or introduced into the Community before 1 June 1997 in accordance with Regulation (EC) No 3626/82;

were acquired in or introduced into the Community before 1 January 1984 in compliance with the provisions of CITES;

were acquired in or introduced into the issuing Member State before the provisions of the Regulation under paragraphs 4 and 5 or of CITES became applicable in this territory;

(x)are to be used for the advancement of science/breeding or propagation/research or education or other non-detrimental purposes.

Then, it goes on to state: This document is issued for the purpose of:  ((x) bold are the ones ticked)

confirming that a specimen to be (re-)exported has been acquired in accordance with the legislation in force on the protection of the species in question;

(x)exempting Annex A specimens from the prohibitions relating to commercial acitivities listed in Article 8(1) of Regulation (EC) No 338/97;

(x)authorising the movement within the Community of a live Annex A specimen from location indicated in the import permit or in any certificate.

Her permit can be found here (click) under a Free Morgan Foundation uploaded PDF.

Accusations and appeals were made by several organisations to get Morgan’s permit undone so they could still release Morgan. In the mean time, Morgan was integrated into the pod of Loro Parque.

Loro Parque’s orca pod wasn’t the most stable pod at the time and was still mostly figuring out its own structure. Add in a new calf from Kohana and Keto and a completely new orca, Morgan, this completely messed up the pod structure. Especially Morgan, Tekoa and Adan were victim of excessive raking.

In December 2012, a report was released by independent experts that Morgan was suffering from a hearing deficit. Now that it was known that Morgan was suffering from hearing loss, either since she was born or recently developed, Loro Parque created a whole new light system to help train Morgan and keep her active and busy. Organisations like Free Morgan Foundation doubted her hearing disibility though, and continued their campaigns, to this day, that Morgan can be released.

Nowadays, the pod structure is stable and Morgan performs regularly in shows to keep her active and engaged. She gets along well with every orca in the pod, but has the closest relationship with Adan and Tekoa. Adan and Morgan have even been found to occassionaly swim in mother-calf positions, indicating their strong bond.

In 2016, SeaWorld announced the ending of their breeding programme. Since five of six orcas at Loro Parque are originally owned by SeaWorld, it is thought that those orcas cannot be bred. However, SeaWorld’s corporate decision has no grounds within European borders, and therefore they cannot enforce their breeding ban upon Loro Parque’s orcas.

There’s still rumours that Morgan is owned by SeaWorld. SeaWorld currently owns 28 orcas, 23 in US parks and 5 (Keto, Tekoa, Kohana, Skyla and Adan) in Loro Parque. There doesn’t seem to be any specific information on who owns Morgan.

In December of 2017, a news article published on Morgan claimed the female orca was pregnant. Soon after, confirmation came from Loro Parque themselves. Her estimate then was that she would deliver at the end of 2018. Around June 2018, it became known Morgan was possibly farther along and may give birth at the end of summer. It’s a waiting game.

[screechingbasementcheesecake]

When the image is snapped, the information are moved to the hard drive through a USB port and put away in the client's predefined area; the image is then fit to be utilized in introductions, documenting, email connections, exploration, talks and that's only the tip of the iceberg.

Contact Detail’s

Address:- Photodyne Techonologies 8158 Gould Ave Los Angeles, CA 90046

Phone Number:- 310.497.0968

Visit:- https://photodyne.com/

[rosy0124]

The Benefits of Digital Pathology

One inquiry that any individual who works in the advanced pathology space definitely experiences is: "What are the genuine advantages of computerized pathology?" While pathologists and labs have become progressively OK with the idea of tel medicine and digitizing slide data in the most recent decade, a few cynics despite everything remain. In the mean time, for those outside the field, both the thought and the incentive may be completely new.

Fortunately, from various perspectives, it is very simple to clarify the advantages of utilizing advanced pathology since they are so evident thus quantifiable.

Worldwide Benefits

Advocates can lead with how tel consultation gives prompt alleviation to the worldwide pathologist supplier hole. Scanners and cloud-based slide sharing stages permit social insurance suppliers in low-and center salary nations to get to the information and care assets of high-pay nations when diagnosing patients in under-resourced territories. Also, worldwide social economics are moving with the end goal that the UN extends up to 68% of the total populace will live in urban regions by 2050. With these changes, numerous areas would be deserted completely on the off chance that it were not for advanced pathology making it feasible for clinicians to counsel and analyze remotely.

Advantages for Education

From the point of view of pathology training, the capacity to filter, store, chronicle, and offer memorable, delicate, or uncommon slides makes an open door for clinical understudies and clinicians around the globe (or even inside one establishment) to get to a similar material, just as learning in one virtual homeroom. Digitizing slides considers uncommon institutionalization across pathology grossing room imaging educational program in manners that were beforehand unthinkable.

These are for the most part broad, significant level advanced pathology benefits, yet shouldn't something be said about for the nearby lab? All things considered, a lab director or emergency clinic chairman needs to realize how advanced pathology can bring important enhancements for their association today.

Advantages for Hospitals

That question is likewise promptly replied. Every day advantages of computerized pathology for emergency clinics and medical clinic systems incorporate the capacity to extend their administration reach, give more claims to fame, cut down on hold up times and planning hardships, and lessening the expenses related with moving the two slides and individuals. With the snap of a catch, medical clinics with WSI scanners can make a virtual slide to be imparted to specialists anyplace for a fast second assessment. Pathology labs whose scanners are empowered for remote microscopy can additionally diminish conference expenses and hold up times by having remote pathologists read live slides without voyaging nearby. (Truly, you truly can do counsels by means of slide scanner along these lines!) All of these work process upgrades for emergency clinics at last mean improving patient results with quicker, progressively exact determinations.

Advantages for Pathologists

What's more, for singular pathologists, the every day advantages of pathology mean a gigantic personal satisfaction improvement! For pathologists inside huge emergency clinic frameworks, the lab currently comes straightforwardly to their work areas or home workplaces. Virtual slides additionally permit junior or rustic specialists to demand a second assessment from guides or field pros without transportation slides. From a pathology work process viewpoint, advanced slides can diminish weakness and render a superior picture at higher extreme amplifications than would be accessible through a magnifying instrument alone.

Advantages for Research

With respect to investigate labs looking for approaches to improve pathology diagnostics, high-throughput WSI slide scanners are making the colossal informational index required for AI. Some may solicit, "With the ascent of computerized pathology, will human and veterinary pathologists before long be out of an occupation?" But in spite of their apprehensions, preparing AI to pre-screen for tumors and different maladies is one of the most energizing improvements to leave advanced pathology lately. Computer based intelligence presents huge opportunities for improving worldwide well being results in the years to come.

Need to get familiar with how advanced pathology can profit your lab condition? Get in touch with us and let Mo-tic Digital Pathology assist you with finding the correct arrangement today!

[myallison0234]

Histology Lab Equipment Manufacturers

The Demonstration of model 702 pictures are stored automatically on the hard drive in a user’s specified location.

§  Top of the line digital cameras with high resolution

§  Enhanced safety by means of low-voltage D.C. operation

§  Proprietary software included

§  Direct USB  connection betweent he system and the PC, no need to download

§  Computer controlled camera, enabling scene and specimen viewing on the screen in real time

§  Hands-free operation with a foot controller

§  Various sizes and models, from the small to large to full body; custom available

Above image shows our top of the line model, which comes with a flat screen, keyboard and mouse drawer, and space for the computer and additional hardware below the main unit. The unit is situated on a movable medical-grade cart for easy transport.

SYSTEMS & MODELS

Three basic lab models are available: Model 701 is a floor system, complete with a movable cart structure that allows one to store the computer and other hardware in the bottom section; Model 702 is a table top unit, to be used on a table in your lab, and model 703 is a smaller unit, also a desk-top model.The larger two units have an area of about 20 by 30 inches on top available for specimen photography. Model 703, a smaller machine, has a top area of 13 by 19. The height of the machines is about 8 inches, with the exception of the Console (Floor Model) which is attached to a movable cart with four wheels for easy moving. Please see above drawings for more details

Model 801 is a full body system, designed to be placed permanently in the morgue. This unit is installed at your location by our personnel; it can take a shot of an entire body, looking from above. The system is designed to fit your exact needs in the morgue; please call our office for more details and to discuss your specific needs.

 DIGITAL IMAGING SOFTWARE

All Photodyne’s units come complete with a proprietary software package allowing total operation of the camera from the PC. Two software packages are available:

1.      Photodyne Capture: This program controls the camera from the PC via the mouse or the keyboard; it allows the user to view the scene in real time via a Live View window, and the user snaps the picture with the mouse, the keyboard or a foot controller. The program stores the data directly on the computer in a user defined folder, and the images can be tagged and annotated before and after the shot. All the major attributes of the camera are controllable from the PC.

2.      PAX-it: “Photodyne is proud to offer PAX-it software as an upgrade to our systems”

3.      PAX-it digital imaging software is designed to manage your imaging workflow, making it easy to capture images directly from the Photodyne workstation into a brows able, sort able, and searchable image collection. Images may be automatically sorted by project number or case number, and they are stored in a database of your design so that important information may be tagged to images.

4.      Additional useful tools present in PAX-it allow storing, retrieving, displaying, and working with your images. You may annotate images, create presentations and reports, attach notes to images, attach images to email, place images side by side, and much more!

5.      Additional PAX-it software modules allow further expansion of your lab’s imaging capabilities, including network site licensing, scripting abilities, measurement and image analysis modules, and more. Please refer to our price list for cost details on this software package. For more information on the PAX-it digital imaging software click here.

Contact Us :-

Address :- Photodyne Techonologies,8158 Gould Ave,Los Angeles, CA 90046

Phone:  3104970968

Toll Free: 1.800.660.2147

Fax: 310.652.2820

Website :- https://photodyne.com/