Loading...“Have you decided on the next scene?”
She looked up from her appetizer to see the question in his blue-gray eyes. She reached into her purse and passed him the slip of paper, looking away.
Moments later she looked up at his comment. “This will take a little while.” She shivered at how clinical he had become. Exactly as she wanted.
It was their arrangement. First her, then him. The scenes could be as elaborate as each wanted to make them.
In this case, she fretted about it more than usual, fixating on it for the next couple of days. After a week, she had almost forgotten about it. They didn’t speak of it, it was assumed; in the background. They went out, saw plays, ate dinner, slept over at each other’s houses, but the topic of the scene never came up. It was part of the deal.
Several weeks afterward, she got a phone call. “Your appointment with Dr. Love will be on Wednesday, March 12, 4PM. Can you make it?”
She was startled. It was a woman’s voice she didn’t recognize. Dr. Love? Dr. Love? She had no doctor by that name…and then of course it swept over her, sending chills down her spine. The lengths he went to. And then the image of his length and she shivered again.
“Theresa Camp? Is this Theresa Camp’s residence?”
“Yes. Sorry. This is Terry. Ummm…hold on, let me check. March 12th, 4pm. Yes. I can make that.”
The woman confirmed the address and suggested she may not want to eat much before the appointment.
Clinical. It was all very clinical. Terry swallowed at the thought of what he had arranged, her juices already flowing.
The 12th was still a couple of weeks away. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. She loved this part of it — the unspoken understanding he had made arrangements; the quiet secret-that-wasn’t-a-secret raising her expectations. It made their love-making even more intense.
* – * – * – *
She arrived at a small house off a commercial district in Saraton, a tony part of town. A wooden sign outside listed several professional services, including a Dr. Love, G,P. M.D. She had been aroused all day in anticipation, and the thought he had gone to these lengths to satisfy the scene turned her on even more. As she climbed the stairs to the entrance she could feel how squishy she had become. She hugged her arms against her side, vibrating with anticipation.
The building had several doors — a converted apartment house or some such; it took her a minute to find the entrance to “Dr. Love’s” suite. Climbing the stairs, she reflected, again, on what he had planned for her.
The official engraved plastic sign on the door to the offices maintained the level of accuracy to the scene. She pushed open the door and walked in.
The waiting area was typical for a small practice: a couple of cushioned chairs, side tables with boring magazines, a glassed-in reception counter. The entire place was deserted. She paused, confused.
“I’ll be with you in a moment, just sign in at the counter.” A disembodied voice from somewhere else in the suite surprised her.
She didn’t recognize the voice: male, older, authoritarian. Not his voice. She did as she was told, the moisture building between her legs. The extent to which he had made the scene so realistic sent a pulse through her groin. She lightly pressed her mound against the countertop.
She saw her name on the roster and signed and dated on the line.
“You can start filling out those forms, Ms. Camp, and we’ll get started in a moment. I just have one patient I’m finishing up with. The office is short-staffed today. I appreciate your patience.”
She still couldn’t see who it was talking, but the interchange left her breathless. A real patient. What did Mike do? Short-staffed? She could feel the familiar loosening of her insides, the images of what was planned for her swimming through her head. Would there be a nurse? She re-imagined being opened by the speculum, a vision she’d fantasized about over and over again these past couple of days: the cold steel opening her, his hands reaching in, her feet up on the stirrups. She shook her head and looked for the forms.
The stack of forms were typical and accurate: medical history, family medical history, prescriptions, HIPAA release forms, etc., etc. She grew a little alarmed as she filled them out that these were actually going to be on file in this doctor’s office. She had already assumed he was a real doctor, as no sight or sound of Mike was evident. The anxiety and anticipation mixed with her arousal: she could feel her juices beginning to leak into her panties, struggling to not push against her pussy and in spite of her need.
She raced through the forms, thankfully her medical history was minimal, but she still felt somehow obligated to be truthful; she didn’t know what would actually happen with the information. As she was finishing the last of them, she noticed a shift in the light and looked up to see the door next to the reception desk opening.
“Theresa Camp?” The voice was the same as the one she’d heard before, but she still didn’t recognize it. Nor did she recognize the man. She was expecting to see Mike, but the individual in the doorway was taller, heavier and his face wasn’t shaped the same. At least, the portion of the face she could see. The doctor was in his scrubs, his hair covered by a hospital cap, his mouth and nose covered by a mask. “I’m sorry. I have a bit of a cold this week and I’m trying not to get my patients sick. I apologize for the unorthodox costume.”
She looked at him trying to determine if it really was Mike. Her brain suggested it could be, even if her eyes didn’t recognize him. The voice wasn’t his in the least — raspier…older. And the physique — the shoulders were too broad, he seemed too tall. The room swam for a moment as she considered what she was about to do: she was here for a complete physical, and she would be examined by a stranger. She struggled with her feelings. Mike had always played his part to a “T.” Her nipples suddenly hardened at the prospect of her exam, the fantasy of the speculum and being spread open — now by a complete stranger. As frightening as the prospect that it wasn’t Mike, was the possibility that it was. What did that say about her, that she couldn’t even recognize her lover of 6 months?
She realized he was waiting for her and collected the paperwork and her things. He held the door for her and as she passed him by she realized he even smelled differently from Mike. She looked up at his face, to see if his eyes were the same blue-grey color, and to her alarm, they weren’t. Again she felt a shiver down her spine, only it wasn’t completely fear — the sense of excitement at what Mike had planned was hitting her full force.
“So, Ms. Camp, let’s see what is going on with you.” He had settled on the rolling stool after offering her a seat in one of the exam rooms. It was a typical exam room, the bed with the crinkly paper, a sink and counter filled with instruments, the walls covered in medical posters or cabinets and something she hadn’t seen before, a television set on a rolling cart with some sort of tubing. He leafed through the first few sheets of paper and realized she hadn’t finished. “Do you have any allergies?”
She shook her head, crossing her legs. She had worn a simple wool skirt and white blouse, something she could quickly get into and out of. The room felt a little chilly; she wondered what it would feel like when she was undressed. Again, the thought of being naked in front of this stranger as part of Mike’s scene sent a pulse of arousal through her. She realized she had missed what he’d said. “Excuse me, I’m sorry. What?”
“What, in particular, brings you here today. I assume you had a reason for making the appointment?”
Her throat caught. Shit! Mike may very well have made an appointment for her. Her mind reeled. “Uhhhm…I thought I should get a check up.” She almost made it sound like a question and cursed herself for being so stupid.
“When was your last gynecological exam?” He had put the papers down and had stood up, beginning to start the exam.
What month was it…shit, shit, shit…”Last November?”
He put a blood pressure cuff on her arm and a stethoscope on her wrist. She breathed quietly while he completed the procedure. “120 over 73 — great. Your pulse seems a little fast — are you nervous?”
She licked her lips, wondering how to explain herself. “A little,” she offered, noncommittally.
“It’s okay. Uhhh,” he turned to the door, distracted by the sound of conversation outside in the hall. “Go ahead and disrobe while I check on something. You can hang your clothes in there.” He waved to a closet. “I’m not expecting anyone,” he mumbled, distractedly. “I’ll be right back,” and he quickly opened and shut the door.
Terry looked around for a gown. Opening all of the drawers in the cabinets, the drawers under the bed, the closet. There’s supposed to be a gown. Shit! Her nipples hardened again as she imagined his eyes looking at her stripped naked. Obsessed with her version of the scene, she fast-forwarded to her feet up in the stirrups; she licked her lips, her panties completely soaked.
“There’s nothing for it,” she whispered to herself, hoping it really was Mike, or that Mike was going to come in. She was a bundle of nerves at the possibilities. She started to unbutton her blouse and slipped it off, placing it on a hanger. She slipped off her shoes and stockings. She couldn’t avoid it any longer, unzipping her skirt.
There was a quick knock on the door and she turned from hanging her skirt. She saw her reflection in the mirror on the back of the closet door — a beautiful young woman, half-naked, slightly afraid…no…startled. The image sent another pulse through her groin and up her spine. She closed her eyes for a moment at the sweet-honey feeling.
“Theresa…”
“Terry…please.” She looked down, trying to avoid his eyes. She searched for any sign it was Mike, but even the doctor’s hands were covered with latex gloves.
“Terry. Please, I apologize for the confusion. My team has all left for the day. I would usually have a nurse here, but…”
“…do you have any gowns, Doctor?” She interrupted. She wasn’t sure which way to turn — into the closet? That would be ridiculous. But turning the other way and she was standing exposed. She’d never had an examination without a gown.
“Gowns. Aren’t there any in the drawers there?” He moved across the room to check the same drawers she had already searched. He stood up, equally unsuccessful.
“It’s okay, I’m a doctor,” he said jokingly. “I can turn up the heat a little if you’re cold. Go ahead and get undressed.”
He turned away slightly, affording her a small bit of privacy. She blushed, realizing she would be putting on a striptease…for a doctor. She peeled away her bra revealing her hard nipples, her breasts covered in goosebumps. Her blush deepened. This has to be a scene! Her mind was screaming at her even as she slipped her fingers into her waistband and peeled her panties down her legs, exposing her bush. Completely naked now, she put her clothes in the closet and tried to calm her heart. She could smell her musk, whether from her underwear or drifting up from between her legs, she wasn’t sure. Her face was flushed, the color spreading down to the top of her breasts.
Dr. Love continued to mark her chart and looked up. “Very well. Let’s get started then. You can have a seat on the bed there.”
In her mind’s eye she took stock of the situation. 5’2, 115 pounds. Auburn hair in a page boy. A light tan from their recent trip to Hawaii, but mostly pale white skin. Her breasts sloped down from her chest, slightly tear dropped, her nipples standing up proudly like a flag at the end of a ski-jump, planted in chestnut colored aureoles. She walked to the end of the bed, looking down at her auburn muff, the triangle of hair neatly trimmed but full, extending down between her legs. She struggled with her feelings — it wasn’t at all what she’d been imagining for the past two weeks, but at the same time she couldn’t remember being this turned on. The thought of Mike setting her up with a complete stranger — it didn’t compute and it sure didn’t make sense. She was practically cumming just thinking about it. As she started to climb on the bed he stopped her.
“Shoot. I knew I was forgetting something. I need to get your weight. Come along. It’s just outside here.” He opened the door and waited for her. Seeing her hesitation, he said reassuringly, “It’s okay, there’s no one in the office. I sent away the cleaning crew — they had come too early.” He opened the door wider to let her see outside and then gently waved her to the scale.
Terry slipped off the bed and walked slowly to the door, half expecting to see a crowd of janitors or nurses, or someone, standing out in the hall to watch her. Entering the small hallway and turning to the scale, she finally exhaled. Her skin was covered in goosebumps, her nipples poking out like small wooden pegs, a mixture of the cold, anxiety and arousal. She hated to be naked in public; Mike knew that! Even at the swimming-suit optional beach she refused to take off her bottoms.
This wasn’t exactly public space, she understood that in her head, but it didn’t stop the slight panic that made her heart race. The panic only increased her horniness. Her pussy, not just wet, was starting to itch, her labia swelling at the thought of walking into the hall stripped naked. Without her underwear to absorb her juices, they were starting to drip down her thighs. She blushed again.
“The scale’s a little tricky,” Dr. Love came up behind her, adjusting the weights. “To get the most accurate weight, it’s best if you stand here…” he turned her gently to face towards the door to the reception area, his glove covered fingers brushing against her naked thigh. “And if you hold your hands out like this,” he put them out to the side, level with his shoulders, “it works best.”
Her heart hammered in her chest. She tried to control her breathing but that only made matters worse, forcing her breasts to rise and fall. She saw him staring at her while he fiddled with the scale. As he was almost ready to tell her to step down, there was a noise from the outer room.
Terry jerked and looked over at the door and then to the doctor.
“Hold on. Don’t move please, the scale is really finicky. That’s it. Just keep your arms still for a minute. Let me find out what the devil is going on out there.” He gently lifted her arms again, leaving her standing exposed and facing the door to the reception area, the only barrier between her nakedness and yet another stranger. She focused on her breasts rising and falling with her breath.
To her horror he went to the door, opened it, and left it open as he walked out to see who was there. In her head she was screaming to run to the exam room and close herself in, but her body was frozen, completely exposed, complying with his directions to stay still. Her skin prickled and she felt her pussy clamp at the thought a second stranger would find her in this ridiculous position. It has to be Mike! He’s just doing this to make it more crazy! Even her befuddled head wasn’t fooled by the rationalization: she sounded as if she were trying to convince herself.
She heard Dr. Love arguing with someone, their voices audible but the words unintelligible. At any moment, she realized, whoever was out there could walk in front of the door and see her standing like Christ on the cross, a naked, female Christ of course, but still. She smiled briefly before wondering why she didn’t just stop this nonsense and move into the room. The sound of someone approaching the open door almost made her jump out of her skin; the relief at seeing it was the doctor made her drop her hands to her thighs.
“Sorry. Let’s try that again.” He closed the door and walked back to her, lifting her hands up again. Standing in front of her, his lab coat brushed against her nipples as he fiddled again with the scale. “So, have you had any unusual changes in weight since your last exam?” He stepped back, waved her off the scale toward the room, jotting notes.
“No. I’m a little heavier than I’d like, but nothing unusual.” She thought about how she’d put on a few pounds, mostly in her butt and thighs, how she really wanted to get thinner, but didn’t really want to work it off.
“Well, you look just fine. Just fine.” He ushered her back into the room and the feeling of being safe and protected washed over her. She perched herself back on the bed as he had instructed before. She spread her legs a little to keep her balance, realizing she was exposing herself to him; the feeling of being exposed, in the room, with just him, was so much more arousing than the possibility of being exposed to just anyone coming in off the street. She shivered again at the thought of someone seeing her on the scale.
He proceeded to test her reflexes, pushing here, prodding there, taking notes, all the while asking questions about her eating habits, what she did for recreation, how she spent her free time. He asked her to breathe in deeply, the stethoscope against her chest, his hand pushing against her spine. And then again, this time the scope on her back.
“Go ahead and lie down now. So, you are active sexually?” He had her shimmy up the bed, her head on a slightly raised pillow, her knees momentarily raised as she found leverage to scoot onto her back. The question was perfectly acceptable for a doctor to ask, but it sent a pulse of electricity up her spine.
“Yes.” She settled her legs back down, her feet just at the end of the bed.
“Mmmm, hmmmm. Any pain with intercourse?” He continued his palpitations, running his hands down her throat, across her chest to her stomach, tapping her liver and intestines, moving the stethoscope as he traveled down. He skipped over her pubic area, continuing his inspection of her legs, pushing his fingers into her muscles and joints.
“No,” she answered softly, the liquid brimming inside her, the vibrations running up and down her spine.
“Do you have satisfying orgasms?” He spread her legs a little, feeling along the joints behind her knees.
“When I have them.” She thought about having one right now and focused on the ceiling.
“Well, everything is normal so far. I’d like to proceed with the gynecological exam. We’ll do a breast exam, and then a recto-vaginal exam. We do things a little differently than you might be familiar with, so if you have any questions, please stop me.” He turned away, pulled a camera from a drawer and snapped it into a wall mounted support. She stared as he swung the support out and tilted the camera down towards her. “I assume you do a regular breast exam?” He sounded so gentle and kind, like a concerned uncle.
Unlike any uncle I ever had, she smiled at the perverse thought. Still the camera. What was up with the camera? He turned to the rolling cart, pushing it away from the wall, facing the T.V. towards her. He turned it on and she saw herself, lying down on the bed from the perspective of the camera.
“I’d like you to demonstrate how you do your breast exam. If you could please.” He waited for her, his hand resting on the camera.
Even as she grew embarrassed at the idea of manipulating her breast for a camera, for anyone for that matter, she felt the electricity in her groin traveling up her spine. She hesitated. Finally, taking a breath, she moved her fingers up to her breasts and began to circle them around the nipples in widening arcs. As she pressed in, feeling for any lumps, she realized he had started taping her. She closed her eyes, concentrating.
“Okay. Let me stop you right there. It’s important you do this correctly, right? I’m concerned you may not be getting it right. First of all, it’s important to watch yourself. That’s why I’ve set this up, so please try not to close your eyes. Secondly, let me demonstrate it with you, and if you have any questions, I’ll give you this tape so you can review it later.” He walked over to the side of the bed and took her right hand. Moving it up to her breast, he pressed it into the nipple, moving it in a circle without moving it away. The feeling of his fingers on hers, pressing against her nipple sent a small shock through her, the glow of arousal in her muff ballooning. She suppressed a moan, fighting the urge to lift her pelvis and open herself further. Instead, she silently let him manipulate her fingers against her sensitized nipples. She watched herself on the T.V., stretched out naked while he manipulated her breasts. She felt like a school-girl, as if she’d never done an exam before. It wasn’t that he was patronizing — she didn’t get that feeling at all — she actually felt his concern at her examining herself properly.
Her mind was in a swirl. His fingers moved hers slightly and then he repeated the process on a different part of her breast. She was naked, alone with a stranger in an exam room. He was going to examine her. He was already touching her breasts, taping her! She could feel her moisture continue to build, the pulses of electricity now enveloping her gut.
He took forever, moving slowly around her left breast and then he stopped. “Go ahead, try it on your right breast without me.”
She moved her left hand to her nipple and did as he had demonstrated, slowly pressing into her flesh, moving in circles before lifting her fingers and doing it again. Her brain was split between the image of herself on the T.V., the feelings of her fingers on her breasts, the image of being naked and exposed, how she was performing for the camera, for him. She felt the leak growing into a trickle and blushed a deep crimson down to the middle of her chest.
“Much better, Terry. Okay. Let’s see. I might need your help for a minute. I usually have the nurse help me but of course she’s not here.” He pulled the stirrups out from the table and looked a little confused for a moment. “I’m afraid I’ll have to have you sit up again.”
He offered his hand and pulled her up, her legs opening to steady herself. Her slit opened with them, and even her thick thatch of pubic hair couldn’t cover the slick inner surfaces that were momentarily exposed. She couldn’t see herself on the TV from this angle, but she caught a flash of her naked vagina before it left her field of view. She felt the trickle of juices running down to her anus. Her blush never let up.
“Here, slide forward. I’m sorry. I’m a little disorganized.” He put his hand down to her lower back and helped her push herself forward to the end of the bed. He pulled the stirrups forward, even with the top of the bed but extending out from it in a straight line. “Can you get your feet on them there?” He had her bring her feet up until they were both nestled in the metal cups, her hands behind her keeping her sitting up. Now she was completely open, her slit peeling apart, the outer labia thickened by her arousal, the inner leaves soaked with her juices. She could smell herself and she knew he must smell her too.
With her hands holding her up she felt powerless to cover herself; a part of her brain was urging her, screaming at her to do something about her exposure. Dr. Love pulled the TV in front of her again, to make sure she saw how exposed and open she was, her breasts and vagina completely visible to the robotic eye of the camera: A young woman, pushing herself towards the camera, her pussy wide open, dripping, her nipples raised in arousal, her face flush.
“Now the procedure I’d like to do, Terry, requires a slightly different position than you are used to, I suspect. We’ll need to do the traditional inspection in a minute, but…oh shoot. Damn I really am making amateur mistakes. Don’t move.” He turned to rummage in a drawer.
She looked up with concern that there was something wrong, and witnessed again how exposed she was. She felt a glob of secretion moving out of her and hoped it would just soak into the paper on the bed.
“Here we go,” he turned back, a urine specimen jar in his hand. “I’m so sorry for being so out of it.” He sounded sincere. “Let’s see…we can do this in a couple of ways. 1) If you want to use the bathroom you can go across the hall, but I’m not sure whether the cleaning crew got the message to come back later this evening. We don’t speak each other’s language all that well.”
Her heart raced again at the prospect of walking outside the room nude and possibly encountering the crew.
“Or, we could get you off the table and you could squat behind the curtain here, or, if you wouldn’t mind terribly, you could just eliminate as you are. It would be fastest, if you can manage it.” He looked at her, his eyes gently questioning.
“I…I could try going here, but I can’t hold the cup and sit up at the same time.”
“That’s the spirit. It will go very quickly, you’ll see. But first, I need to take a sample of that.” He moved quickly, putting the urine cup next to her on the bed, grabbing an oversize cotton swab from a tray and kneeling down in front of her open vagina. Swiping the swab against her slit, he dragged it up, just barely entering her, coating it with a thick syrup of mucous. At the end of his motion, he brushed the tip of the swab against her clitoris, shooting sparks into her. She breathed heavily, her arms buckling slightly.
He looked up at her from between her legs. “Are you aroused?”
She knew it would be stupid to lie. He might think there was something wrong with her. She closed her eyes in humiliation and shame that she was getting turned on. “Yes,” she answered quietly.
“That’s just fine,” He said gently, relieved. “I was concerned you might have a yeast infection, although you smell perfectly fine.” As if to emphasize the point, he pushed his face close to her open slit and breathed in deeply. “Very healthy.” She clamped her muscles briefly and pushed a small glob of mucous out.
He wiped it up with his forefinger and painted her leg with it. “Okay, now to that urine sample. I have to wipe you first, though.” Once again, he turned away, and she was left facing the camera, completely open, her arms pushing her body up, her breasts bobbing with her breath. She saw herself again on the camera, almost as if she were a slut, posing for a bad porn movie. The thought sent yet another pulse of electricity up her spine. Moments later he returned, a moist toilette in his hands. “Normally, I’d have you do it, of course, but I don’t think you can manage, right?”
She nodded, her pulse increasing at the thought of what he was about to do and then the cold hit her open vagina, the alcohol stinging slightly, followed by pressure from his fingers as he wiped the paper up and over her clit. He had stood to the side so that the camera caught it all, and the rush of cold, followed by the burning and then his soft stroking forced a moan from her. She watched the whole thing on the TV, the images feeding back onto her pleasure.
“Oh! God! Shit!” She tried to cover it up but it only made it worse. The sound of her voice, the push of his fingers against her open vagina. She moaned again.
“I assume you’re okay, yes? That it was just a little intense? I apologize if I was too rough.” He pulled the toilet away and looked at her, concerned.
“No..” she gasped, catching her breath and trying to slow her heart. “No. Not too rough. It was just a little colder than I expected.” She closed her eyes attempting to gain control. But the realization of the camera catching her open and exposed forced her to lose focus.
“Can you try and give me a sample from here, or do you need to get down?” He picked up the cup expectantly.
“No…I can try.”
“Here, this might help.” He put the cup back down again and moved the stirrups, drawing her feet closer to her butt, her knees rising up. Now she was like a grasshopper, her legs bent and split open, her slit completely exposed and peeling open further. She didn’t think she could have been more exposed than she had been, but he had proved her wrong. She concentrated on her heart rate and breathing, trying to ignore the camera. Once again, he lifted the cup this time unscrewing the top, breaking the seal.
Standing off to the side again, so that the camera had a clear shot, he placed the lip of the cup just beneath her open slit. “Any time you feel you can start…”
She felt her bladder wanting to empty but the embarrassment and exposure of peeing in front of the camera was too much. She tried pushing and coaxing, but nothing came out. “I’m not sure I can, doctor.”
“Hmmm…I think I can help.” Keeping one hand on the jar, he used his other hand to push gently on her bladder, first in and then down, in and then down in a slow rhythm. With two fingers of the hand holding the jar, he lightly tickled her perineum, drifting up to the entrance to her vagina. As soon as his massage successfully induced something short of a tickle from her, her muscles relaxed and she felt the stream beginning to flow. She looked down to see a small fountain of urine flowing from her, the yellow arc landing in the cup. He continued to manipulate her bladder but it wasn’t necessary — the release felt so divine she relaxed back, flexing her elbows, and let it flow, watching it all on TV. The last few drops landed with a “plop’ on the footboard to the table and then she felt him wiping her open legs with a towel.
“Excellent,’ he complimented her, as if she had performed some Olympian feat. “I think that will do very well.” He screwed on the top and moved the jar to the counter. “Okay,” he continued, “I think we need to get to the end here, yes?” He quickly washed his hands, leaving her to stare at her naked body. She studied her nipples, her neatly trimmed bush, the deep pink slit exposed by her legs pulled up against her. As she watched, she saw more liquid drooling from her open pussy. The sight caused her to flex her inner muscles issuing even more liquid onto the already soaked paper.
She wasn’t sure what he’d meant by the last comment; she hoped it meant he would be opening her with a speculum and checking her cervix. Her fantasy images overlaid the room and she realized the reality far exceeded anything she had imagined. Over and over she had imagined Mike laying her down, putting her feet up, lubing up some kind of instrument and spreading her open. She sighed at the idea of him not seeing any of this, and then the true meaning of the camera hit her. She laughed a little and then blushed as more goop pushed out of her open slit.
“I suspect you are used to having a speculum, yes?” He lightly rubbed her shoulder, relaxing her a little.
She nodded.
“Well, I’ve been working on this particular method for a couple of years and I think you’ll find it is much more comfortable.” He reached behind the rolling cart and pulled out two black rubber hoses, ending in small bulbous black…things…she couldn’t come up with any better words for them – bulbs. As he lifted them, she realized they looked like shiny dildos — one the size of her thumb, the other much larger — maybe three fingers wide. With the one hand holding the two tubes, Dr. Love used his other on some piece of machinery on the cart. In a moment, the TV image split into three parts — Terry, exposed to the camera, and two other images out of focus and moving.
She could see they were coming from the “dildos” in his hand.
‘”As I think you figured out, these are small cameras that will let me see every intimate detail of you, with far less discomfort than a speculum. You might even find them pleasurable.” The way he said it suggested it likely.
“Okay, I guess it would be best to have you lying down, now that I see how you’re built. If you can keep your feet in the stirrups, it would help. Let’s get you positioned back on the pillow.”
She eased herself back, pushing her feet against the stirrups, sliding her butt along the paper until she could rest her head on the pillow again. He had turned the TV again so that she could see the entire procedure. I’ll be seeing him penetrate me…ohmygodohmygodohmygod. The thought of being penetrated — of seeing herself being penetrated from the outside and the inside simultaneously sent a rush through her head, a prickly glow firing up between her legs. Get on with it already! Again, she tried to control her breathing.
“I’d like to adjust these if that’s alright, yes?” He motioned to the stirrups, having set down the two dildo-cameras. She noted they were pointing directly between her legs, her open vagina a stereoscopic, out-of-focus image below the full body shot of her lying naked on the bed.
As he pulled and moved the stirrups, she had difficulty keeping her feet in them, her heels slipping out. It was amusing watching the bumbling doctor with the naked woman. She stared at her breasts on the TV, admiring how they looked lying down.
“Ok. I think I’ve got it. But I’m concerned about you slipping out. Would you mind if I just velcro’ed your feet in?”
She started at the idea of being tied down. Shit. No. Yes. Yes. No! She swallowed and breathed out, considering her options. “Is that really necessary?” Her voice cracked and she swallowed again. “Sorry. Is it really necessary?” She looked up at him.
“I would feel better about it. And I think you would too, actually. The procedure can cause some…stimulation…and given how much your feet slipped out just now, I’d hate to see you skin your leg or hurt yourself.” He placed his hand on her inner thigh, lightly rubbing her absent mindedly.
The feeling shot through her, into her slit, up her spine, drawing a breath in sharply. She wanted to open herself, to have him penetrate her with his instrument, to not delay any further
“Ok. If you think it’s best. But you’ll let me out the moment I ask?” She sounded so meek she wanted to take it all back.
“Of course, Terry. I’m not asking you to submit to some kind of torture.” He said it with a smile. She watched as he pulled out a Velcro strap from under the stirrup and placed it across her instep. As soon as he tightened it, she felt a surge move up her leg to her groin. The feeling of being secured into the stirrups, of not being able to close her legs, reverberated through her. She felt an echo up her other leg when he had finished.
She moaned from the pleasure this was causing, even though he wasn’t touching her body. She watched as a white watery rivulet issued from her pussy.
“One more thing,” he had come up next to her, his hand resting on her shoulder just inches from her breast.
She looked up at him, tearing her eyes away from the three images on the TV behind him.
“In my experience with this exam, it helps if I can get you to arch your back a little. But I know that will be a challenge to maintain for as long as I’ll need. With your permission, I’ll need you to put your arms over your head, and again, it would be best if they could be kept in place.”
Once again her heart rate leapt at the image he had painted in her head: her arms tied down above her head, her back arched, pushing her breasts into the air. She realized her vagina would be spread even further; further exposed to the camera.
She couldn’t say anything, the lump in her throat was too big. She just looked away and moved her hands above her head.
Reaching behind her, he pulled out a board from the table and secured her wrists with two Velcro straps. When he moved back, she turned her head to see herself on the monitor: A young woman, completely naked, her feet strapped into stirrups, her vagina and anus pointing to the camera, her breasts exposed, the nipples hard, rising and falling with her quickened breath. She couldn’t see her face behind the elevated breasts.
“Let me make it a little more comfortable,” he said gently, and she watched as he pushed a control on the bed. Under her back, the bed hinged, rising up until it pressed her upward slightly, elevating her breasts even more, tilting her pelvis down, pointing her open slit forward slightly. She let out a long breath, the sound relaxing her against the mattress support.
“I know it seems silly to strap you up like this,” he kept up a steady banter as he returned to the bottom of the bed, careful to keep her privates exposed to the camera. “But it’s for your safety and comfort. I’m sorry about the gown. That’s just weird.” As he spoke he picked up the smaller of the two black bulbs and looked at her naked groin.
“I’m going to start with the rectal exam, Terry. I was thinking I wouldn’t need lubricant, but…well, what would you prefer?”
She swallowed, staring at the black bulb he held up, looking at her stretched perineum. She didn’t want to say a word, but for weeks she’d been imagining Mike coating his fingers with lube and slipping them into her ass. She hated lube normally, but in her fantasy she had wanted to feel the cold slippery gel against her insides. “I think,” she croaked, “I think it would be best to have lube, doctor.”
“You want me to lubricate the rectal explorer?” He waited.
Maybe he hadn’t heard her? “Yes. I think that would be better.”
He turned to the counter and picked up a squeeze bottle. She watched as he coated the bulb with the shiny jelly, returning the bottle and then turning back to her. “Okay, I’d like you to take a deep breath. While you’re holding it, I need you to bear down, as if you are making a bowel movement, pushing your rectum out a little, yes?”
She blushed at the idea of pushing out some shit, but she did as he instructed. She watched as the skin around her anus blossomed out, the slightly brownish skin exposing pink flesh inside a radiating ring. He lowered the bulb and she felt it touch her skin exactly at the same time she saw her anus on the camera in the bulb.
“Okay, you can let out your breath and relax. I’m going to push this in and you’ll feel a little pressure.”
Her eyes grew wide as the bulb pushed into her and she watched, on camera, as it penetrated her rectum, the channel lit up as a pinkish white tunnel. He pushed it in further and she groaned from the feeling of being penetrated, of being filled up, combined with the bizarre imagery of her own colon. And then it was in completely, swallowed by her anus, the small black cable tugging on her skin slightly. She looked at the overview camera and saw her ring expanded around the black cable, like she was being plugged into a machine rather than the other way around.
“So, Terry, you can see the normal colored skin here and here.” With one hand he was moving the camera inside her, with another he was pointing out features of her insides on the screen. She was distracted by the larger scene, though, the one where she was stripped naked, spread open and being penetrated by a black cable, by a doctor. She moaned slightly.
“Am I hurting you?” He sounded concerned, but remained focused on the imagery on the screen.
“No,” she whispered. “It feels…it feels good.” She blushed at her confession and continued to breathe through the exam.
“Oh. Don’t be embarrassed. It’s perfectly natural to feel some arousal. Do you enjoy the feeling of the anal explorer?”
She nodded her head absently, staring at the scene unfolding on the TV, feeling the inrush of sensations up her spine.
“I think that’s about where we’ll stop,” he motioned to the rectal-cam and bent down. She watched as he slid a black ring up the cable and pushed it against her anus. “That will keep it in while we proceed to the vaginal exam. If you feel any burning or tearing or any pain at all, you tell me, yes?”
She nodded and watched the image of her rectum spasming in time to the slight cramping she felt from the bulbed invader.
“Okay, before we get to the next part, I’m going to take a couple of pictures.” He stepped behind the cart and fiddled again. Something happened to the rectal-cam and she gasped as it began to move in a circular orbit inside her. The monitor showed a revolving image, first one side, then the bottom, then the other side and then the top of her channel. She looked down past her breasts to see if she could see the thing moving, but she could only feel it: a weird pulsing, like a small fist pushing around inside her. She breathed deeply, the added pressure changing the feeling, and she clamped down on it, trying to push it out.
“It’s okay. That’s normal. Look.” He drew her attention back to the rectal-cam and saw how her muscles were closing and opening in a steady rhythm. “That will subside shortly. But if there’s any pain, tell me, okay?”
She groaned an agreement, and saw a stream of juices practically flowing from her vagina.
“Now, with respect to lubrication for this one,” he held up the second bulb, again chattering as he considered the next step. “I would say we don’t need any, given how much emission you’re providing on your own. Normally, I’d say let’s use it, but in this instance, it could be much clearer without it. What do you say?”
He didn’t wait for her to answer as he positioned the bulb at the entrance to her pussy. She nodded vaguely, the feelings growing in her groin from the stimulation and the cameras; the familiar ramp to an orgasm beginning. She could tell it was going to be a big one — it had been building for a week, in spite of making love to Mike just yesterday — and now, this setup, so much more than she had bargained for. She moaned as he began to push it in, watching the second camera.
The lens brushed past strands of pubic hair, opening her thin inner lips, the deep pink flesh lit up from the bulb’s tip. And then it was in her, the visuals weirdly distinct from the feeling of it opening her channel, the sound of it slipping in between her lips, smacking from her natural lubrication.
“Yes,” he commented, keeping her lips open with two fingers as he manipulated the camera into her. “You don’t need any additional lubrication. Do you often lubricate like this, or is this particularly arousing to you?”
She didn’t know what to say. She blushed at the thought of admitting how aroused she was. Her head was confused, the growing orgasm blotting out any rational thoughts. “I don’t think so,” she answered and then realized it wasn’t an answer at all. “What?” She looked up at him, hoping he would repeat the question.
“There, I think we’re in.”
She looked at the vag-cam and saw a completely different sort of tissue from the rectal-cam: where the skin in her rectum was pinkish white, with small veins visible when the camera circled around, the skin in her vagina was a deepish pink — almost purple. She wanted to move her hands all of a sudden, to stroke her clit which she could see faintly poking out from its hood on the overview camera. She pushed against him, hoping she could stimulate something.
“It’s okay,” he reassured her, seemingly misreading her movement, “I’m going to stop for a moment and let you adjust. Then we’ll proceed to your cervix.”
She groaned again, feeling the rectal bulb pushing up against the larger bulb in her pussy, forcing it against the underside of her clit. The orgasm was building, she could feel it, but she knew it wouldn’t go much further without something else. She couldn’t face the prospect of asking him. She just breathed and whimpered slightly, her eyes moving rapidly from the overview to the rectal-cam and vag-cam. She looked down her body and saw him adjusting himself.
He’s getting aroused by this! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. The thought forced another moan from her and she adjusted her body, trying to push against the instruments to increase the stimulation.
“Shall we proceed?” He placed his hand on her mound, the webbing between his thumb and forefinger just grazing her clit as he pushed the instrument in further. She let out a small cry as much from the change in pressure as the burst of arousal from her sensitive micro-erection. She watched as her flesh peeled away from the bulb until the light shined on a white wall interrupted by another sphincter — a black spider pattern radiating from a pin hole. “Your cervix. You know,” he said conversationally, “you’re really quite wet. I don’t think I’ve seen a patient as wet as you are.”
She moaned again as the rectal-cam pushed against her. “Please,” she whispered. She needed him to do something more. “Please…”
“We’re almost done. I know this can be uncomfortable. Well your cervix looks fine. There’s a small test I’d like to perform — you shouldn’t feel anything, but I’ll need to attach an electrical lead to your left nipple. If that’s okay?”
She looked up at him, alarmed at the idea of electricity at this point, but the fog of pleasure slowed her reaction time. The pulsing of the bulb in her ass distracted her, as did the images of her body, the inside of her rectum and vagina. Before she could say anything, he had attached a small clip to her erect nipple. It didn’t hurt, to her surprise; it was almost comforting an additional pinching stimulation. She knew it wasn’t enough, but it helped a little.
And then she watched as a small spark jumped from the vag-cam to her cervix. Moments later she felt the charge in her nipple and she let out a small shriek of surprise. ‘What the fuck?!” She tried to cover her mouth, at the cuss word that had escaped but her hands were immobilized. Again, a spark, and again a charge on her nipple, this time with a small nova of stimulation in her rib cage. “What is that?” It came out as a hoarse whisper.
“So, the interesting thing is, the cervix doesn’t really have much in the way of nerve endings. You know the stuff about having a penis deep inside you doesn’t mean much up against your cervix. But there are nerve connections with your nipples, yeah? It’s not unpleasant, right?”
She shook her head, agreeing with his double negative and jerked slightly each time the spark jumped. The electricity added to the glow growing from her clit out to her groin, up her spine and now down from her nipple.
“Would you like to feel it against your clitoris? I’ve been told by some of my patients it can be very stimulating.” Again, he didn’t wait for her to reply before he pulled another lead out from somewhere and very gently nuzzled it against her nubbin.
“No…no…will it hurt…aghhhhhhoh godohgodohgodohgod, yes, yes, yes…shit! yes.” She hadn’t felt anything like it in her life. With each spark, her clit lit up, exploding small puffs of pleasure into her vagina where the pulse met the bulb, and then an echoing pulse, much fainter now, from her nipple. She kept issuing a stream of exclamations even as her slit issued a thicker stream of mucous.
“Okay, Terry, you’re almost there. I just need to make one final adjustment in this instrument here,” he pointed to the vag-cam, “and then we can move on.” As he spoke, he touched a control and she felt the bulb in her pussy begin to expand, pushing against her walls, growing outward toward her entrance, like a clown’s balloon. The camera image vibrated and oscillated.
She couldn’t take it — the pulses of electricity, the clamps on her nipple and clit, the moving anal plug and now the bulb expanding inside her like a freak cock. The orgasm exploded through her, erupting up her spine, racing into her brain, wiping out any sensory input. The rush of white light enveloped her, dimming the electrical pulses she could still feel, the pulsing in her rectum, the bulb in her cunt that filled her completely. She let out a small scream of pleasure, and arched her back a little higher.
As she came out of it, her breathing ragged, tears squeezing from her eyes, she realized he hadn’t changed anything. The instruments were still inside her. The only difference was the vag-cam had started to deflate, only to start again.
He had moved behind the rolling cart and was fooling around with something else. She wasn’t sure she could take any more. It was rare for her to cum more than once as it was, and the supernova of the orgasm was still traveling back through her, down her legs to her feet.
“Did you just have an orgasm, Terry?” She couldn’t see him clearly from behind the cart, but she thought she heard the sound of a zipper.
“Yes…I mean…yes…yes, doctor I did.” She was starting to feel a second one building – the two bulbs deep inside her moving in complicated patterns, the imagery of her naked body stretched out, her vagina split open, her muff now wet. Another motion from behind the cart drew her eye and she saw he had removed his pants and was unbuttoning his shirt. This can’t be happening! Mike wouldn’t want this! But in spite of her growing terror, her body flooded her with a different emotion — a yearning to have a cock deep inside her; the sensations from the electricity continuing to bombard her nerves.
He was completely naked now, even though she couldn’t see him entirely — his chest, full of hair, his knees. She wondered what his cock looked like, the hunger for a real fuck wrestling with her confusion; she mentally slapped herself for even thinking it. And then another round of pulses from the machine made her close her eyes, the orgasm just barely cresting.
She struggled but couldn’t move, other than bounce her butt on the end of the table. The jiggling only intensified the pressure of the electrical leads on her clit and the pulsing of the bulbs in her channels. He came around the cart and she could see his erection, standing practically straight up from between his legs and she moaned. Looking at his butt in the camera momentarily she thought she saw a familiar mole but she was distracted by his movements. He pulled the mask of his face.
The face didn’t register immediately, even as he pulled his cap off, but then the full image of Mike’s body hit her full force and she tipped over the edge into the second orgasm of the day. “OhGODohGODohGODYESYESYESYESYESYES!!”
She was so confused, but didn’t have time to care. The orgasm lifted her conscious mind away for a few heartbeats, the stimulation from the machine carrying her along. Mike? Mike? How? She fluttered her eyes open and stared at him, taking in the familiar muscles, his erection barely visible on the camera.
‘How? Wha….” She just looked at him; his eyes weren’t the right color!
He ran his hands up her legs, pushing on the cables, his thumbs grazing her clit, forcing a guttural moan from her. “Was it everything you wanted?” He stroked her, forcing her to push up against him, purring.
“GodGodGodGODYES!” She wanted to be unstrapped so she could take him inside her, kiss him.
As if reading her mind, he started pulling the vag-cam out of her, the pulsing bulb pulling open her lips and popping the electrode off her clit. She screamed at the intensity and then moaned at being left so empty.
“These are pretty nice, don’t you think?” He was studying the bulb as if that was the thing she was focused on.
“Get your cock in me,” she demanded, exasperated. “And tell me what the fuck you did just now….aaggggahhhhgggg”
He slipped the head of his erection into her and crawled up onto the table. “This certainly gives a new meaning to the phrase, ‘the doctor is in,’ eh?”
“Undo my hands, Mike, please, I want to feel your butt.” As soon as she was free she pushed her hands onto his tight ass, shoving him deeper into her, pushing against the pulsating bulb in her ass. She watched the couple on the TV, the guy deep in the woman, his muscles tensing and relaxing in rhythm to the cock pushing deeper into her. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I’m cumming again, yes!”
And then she lost consciousness briefly, her hands squeezing his tight buns, the sound of the machines and her moans filling her ears.
It felt like hours later, the two of them lightly stroking each other, his lips occasionally brushing across her nipples. “How did you do this?” She let her hand drift onto his ass again. Such a great ass!
“Bill’s a buddy of mine from college. He owed me one. It’s a Wednesday and he’s never open on a Wednesday.”
“But the cleaning crew and the ‘other patient?'”
“No ‘other patient.’ There was a cleaning crew,” he slipped his finger into her cunt, smearing their combined liquid onto her lips. “They were really confused. I had to get that supervisor out of here.”
“But you left the door open!”
“Yeah. Nice touch, yeah?”
“No!” She slapped his ass a little harder than was necessary.
“Ummm, I like it when you do that.”
“And all of this? What the fuck is all of this?” She looked over at the equipment and saw the clothes he’d deposited on the floor; she noticed the elevator soles and what looked like shoulder pads. She studied his eyes again, squinting at him.
“Well, that’s what took some time. I’ve been thinking about this setup for awhile, and you gave me the perfect excuse. Just took a little of this and a little of that. It works, yeah? Oh. You’re confused about the eyes. Contacts.”
“Yeaahhh,” she exhaled the word, thinking about those two bulbs moving inside her, the images on the screen of her orgasm from the inside and outside. “Does the doctor have an open slot?”
“Two,” he said, sliding off the bed and reaching for the cables.