Dr. Love's Exam

"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?"