Chapter Text
“Doc! An emergency patient is here,” the receptionist called to the 1951 Hornet as he sat in his office. He sighed, having just finished up with his last scheduled patient of the day. He held the button down to reply, “I’m on my way.”
He drove out from behind his desk and opened the door. The old car made his way through the hallway and into the waiting room, coming to a dead stop as he saw the emergency patient.
She was a brand new, 2021 Shelby Mustang GT500. She sat almost flat on the ground, her tires buckled under her. The mustang’s eyes were barely open, and her breath was labored. Something was obviously very wrong.
“Oh, uh, what happened?” Doc struggled to find his words.
“I don’t know, I was just street racing with some friends, and my transmission started to slip.”
Doc raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bit young to need a new transmission.”
“I know, but I’m almost positive that’s the problem.”
Doc nodded. “Well, come on back and we will take a look at you.”
The Mustang got up off the ground and back onto her wheels, obviously struggling. Doc was in awe at the jet black beauty in front of him. She was a real feat of engineering, with a massive engine and all of the newest features.. She was built for speed.
“Last door on the left,” Doc gestured down the hallway, holding open the door for the sports car. As soon as she tried to move, her transmission problems were evident. She lurched forward, then slightly backward, as she slowly made her way past Doc and down the hallway. The older car inched behind her, trying to note her symptoms. It was obvious that she was having an impossibly hard time shifting gears.
Finally the sports car made it into the open room, where she immediately collapsed onto the ground again. The hornet drove past the Mustang and parked in front of her to address her.
“What may I call you?” Doc asked.
“Shelby. Shelby Blackrim,” she answered quietly. Her engine suddenly died, but she didn’t seem too worried about it.
“Alright Miss Blackrim, I’m going to put you on the lift and take a look,” Doc informed her confidently. “Let’s get you on it.”
She started her engine, the powerful roar filling the room. The Mustang lurched forward as Doc directed her wheels onto the lift. “Sorry it’s taking me so long. I’m really trying.”
“It’s no problem at all,” Doc reassured her, grinning.
As her last wheel stepped onto the lift, the hornet began to strap her in. She shut her engine off, and silence filled the hospital room.
“Are you particularly rough on your Trans?” Doc inquired, wrapping a strap around her front left wheel.
She was hesitant for a moment. “I would say so, yes,” came the answer, almost inaudible.
“You’re a manual transmission,” The hornet began, taking hold of the next strap, “you have to remember to shift, and to use your clutch correctly or you’ll rag out your trans in no time at all.”
The Mustang only nodded as Doc finished strapping her in. He pushed a big button on the ground that started to lift her into the air so he could see underneath her. The younger car couldn’t see Doc at all from where she was, and the hornet used this to his advantage, as his eyes immediately darted towards her back end. The female car’s undercarriage was a beautiful and marvelous thing, doc noted. Her sensitive entrance, built to take cocks and birth live baby cars, was a tough metal pipe cushioned with soft rubber on the inside. The entrance faced her rear bumper, so Doc could not get a good look at it from this view, but he could see all of the pipe’s underside.
A single drop of naturally occurring female lubricant, with the viscosity of tree sap, fell onto his hood. The hornet bit his lip at the idea of tasting the soft, wet hole.
The doctor turned his attention to her front side, where her transmission was leaking a less-natural fluid: transmission. A few stops had already landed on the ground. The Mustang’s breathing was still labored, and the hornet felt bad for her, unable to imagine the pain that she was in. Usually, losing a transmission meant death for a car.
Doc cleared his throat, another drop of red fluid hitting the ground. “Well, little lady, it’s definitely your transmission. You’re lucky to be alive.”
The Mustang was silent for a moment. “What can we do about it?”
Doc rolled out from under her and lowered the lift so that they could make eye contact. “Well, I can either rebuild yours or give you a new one entirely. Either way, it’s a major operation. You’re looking at a few weeks of hospital stay.”
Shelby nodded, her sky blue eyes drifting towards the corner of the room. “And the cost?”
“It won’t be cheap, unfortunately.” Doc confirmed her suspicions. “Big problems like this never are.”
“Can you.. do a payment plan?” The Mustang asked slowly. “I just moved here, I used all of my money getting here and securing a place to live. I don’t even have a job yet.”
Doc thought for a moment. The younger car wouldn’t survive much longer without his help. She may not even last the drive to another doctor with her transmission slipping as bad as it was. He watched as the exhausted sports car sank down on her tires again, her back end hitting the cold tile beneath her. Doc just knew that her wet hole was leaving a spot of liquid on his floor. His cock twinged. “I don’t usually do payment plans, but I think I’ll bend that for you, considering your dire situation.”
The Shelby nodded. “When can we do the operation?”
“I can put you under right now,” doc offered, confidently.
“Please,” came her distressed answer. “I’m in so much pain.”
“I reckon you are,” Doc turned around, facing his countertop, and pulled out a syringe full of anesthetic. He eyed the syringe for bubbles and then turned around, once again facing the sports car. “You’ll feel a little sting,” he warned, as he stabbed the needle into the soft rubber of her tire and drained it. Within seconds she was woozy, and probably would have collapsed if she wasn’t already sitting on her tires. Doc drove backwards a couple of feet, watching as her eyes slowly shut and her entire body relaxed.
“Shelby?” He called out. No answer. “Ah, perfect,” he said to himself as he placed the syringe on the countertop.