Family Doctor Blackmail

"Lie on the table," he said--patting where he wanted her head--and her heart fell. This was the part she was dreading. He was about to put his hands on her body and there was nothing she could do about it but gut through it. Only this time her mother wasn't watching from the chair in the corner. Mary missed her. She hadn't realized how comforting it had been to have her there, watching, supervising, supporting her--until she was gone.

She tried to pivot and lower herself down as gracefully as she could--which is to say not very--to follow his instructions. With one hand she kept her gown from gaping open and spilling her tits out while she repositioned herself; then there she was, lying face up with the doctor standing beside her at her mid-torso. He didn't hesitate to separate the lapels of her gown, exposing the midline of her chest and her belly down the seam. Fortunately he stopped short of uncovering her breasts and for that she was greatly relieved. His hands went to her stomach and pressed down there.

That shit hurt. How did he manage to do it, right away find the most tender spot and then push right in on it? "Umph," she uttered. He released and grabbed the camera again. No way, really? He's going to film this? She was stunned but pinned by her own confusion and the doctor's sense of command to nothing but a frozen state on the exam bed, letting him manipulate her flesh.

"Moderate compaction in the midgut," he droned again, waving the camera around her uncovered tummy, pressing here and there with his free hand. Then she went into a petrified stillness as he pulled down her panties; not all the way, but tugging the fabric down her hip on each side, his hand pressing in towards her groin. It might have been her imagination but he sure seemed to be enjoying this. Fuck.

"Compaction extends into the lower abdomen."

Then he put the camera down and returned to manipulate her with both hands. She didn't think there was any medical purpose to this; he just seemed to love to touch her skin from just below her ribcage down to her almost-pussy-crack. She had a narrow waist, it was one of her best features, in addition to her bouncy boobs--as Robby had called them for years--and she imagined that the doc was having a little play time with her. Maybe he took it as a perk of the job. Up and down he went, over and over, feeling, squeezing, pushing on her, the rough skin of his hands scratching against the soft flesh of her tummy.

"Exhale," he commanded, and she did. As her stomach shrunk with the air leaving her lungs, the doc's hands pressed in to take up all the slack. "Relax," he added, which was fucking hard to do in this situation; it was like he'd pressed her intestines down to her spine. Then his hands were on her panty hemline again and she felt them being pulled down further over her hip bones. Fuck, fuck, the curse words ran through her brain. From her position lying on the table with her head facing up to the ceiling, and his thick arms in the way to boot, she couldn't see for sure, but it sure felt like the top of her pussy crack must be out in the open now. She hated the feeling of lying there exposed for him.

And again came the camera. God damnit. He was going to film below the waistline? She blew air out of her mouth. Any spin of the wheel of fortune would have to be better than this, she thought for another time. Any spin.

"No cysts detectable, will confirm with pelvic," he droned. That didn't sound good. Not fucking good at all. Then damn it, he slid his hand down to her groin again, the camera following to document. When she leaned up to venture a peek--she had to see what the hell he was doing--she caught him as he lifted the panty hem up off her body and stretched it downwards, camera zoomed right in there. She sucked in her breath and cursed.

Okay, that was her fucking pussy out in the open and on cam, she realized with a shock. Her pretty little shaved puss that she was proud of, but also very private about. It wasn't for the world to see, that was for damn sure. What the fuck was this guy doing? Was he a pervert after all, and this footage material for some juicy home movies?

But then he pulled away suddenly and swung back to fuss with his paperwork, and she had second thoughts; doubts that she remembered what just happened. He hadn't shown any obvious excitement or emotion, and clearly since he was a doctor he saw bodies all day long; so was she just overreacting? Maybe he didn't give two fucks after all and was just doing his job for the dictation or the insurance or whatever, like he said. She was left really puzzled. Also, weighing on the side of normalcy was that her Mom must have been through all this shit, so it must be okay. Right?

A moment later he returned to her side with long, white latex gloves snapped onto both hands, one still holding the camera. That seemed fucked up if the purpose of the gloves was to be sterile. And he was heading straight for her groin. Okay, fuck. Maybe he's not normal and it's not going to be okay, she realized.

He patted her naked stomach and smiled. "You're a good girl." God, she hated his condescending tone. "Lie still for me." She decided to do something. She was going to stop this. She had to. But then she didn't. She just lay there frozen in place.

He didn't just pull her panties off. Instead he pulled down the front again by hooking the hemline with one finger, making a little triangle of fabric with her entire vagina there in the exposed opening. It would have almost been less embarrassing if she'd just been naked. This was too much like a peep show. She squirmed her hips in discomfort.

Then the camera went right down in there too and he droned on. "Labia majora tissues appear healthy." Holy fuck.

But he was just getting started. He switched his hold on her panties so that his pinky held the hem down, freeing his other fingers. She had a better view of this since he had approached her from below this time, and she died a little when he touched down onto her pussy lips, stroking them down their middle, slightly separating them.

Fuck. Oh my God, she realized, I am getting fingered by my doctor.

But things really jumped the shark when he tucked the camera under his chin. The little red light next to the lens was still on, so she knew that it was still filming. Her dad had one of these old cameras. It was a ridiculous situation, this man crouched down at her groin with his neck contorted to balance the camera in the crack there against his fat chest. She realized the advantage of this strange position for him, of course, when he was able to bring both hands to bear to inspect her vagina.

She was pinned in place. She wanted to do something, to object because this didn't seem right at all, but she didn't know what to do. She just lay there as he exposed her again and started in. This time he separated her pussy lips and held them open like she was a zoo exhibit.

"Now we see labia minora. Also appears healthy. Pink color."

She squirmed her hips again in embarrassment as her face went bright red. Then he crawled his fingers downward, opening her private parts like a zipper.

"Patient is eighteen years. Hmm. Unusual case; hymen intact." She felt her flesh being stretched apart further.

Unusual case. That's me, she thought.

"Doc--" she tried to object, but he didn't listen.

Unfortunately, she knew what the doc was looking at; in fact, she knew exactly what he was looking at because that image was burned into her own retina. In her own frustration after a failed prom night--failed in the sense that she didn't go all the way with Derek, for a few different reasons--she had plunked herself down in front of her parent's full-length mirror with tears in her eyes and her legs spread wide and taken a frank assessment of the situation. She'd avoided it long enough; she had to face up to what her body was like down there.

She was tight. When she had pulled herself open and got all that skin out of the way, the little hole in the sheath across her vagina was tiny. She had looked at it from every angle she could and tapped on it, grossing herself out a little, trying to see if she could stretch it open herself. She wanted to get rid of it but it didn't budge at all; it seemed so thick and solidly attached. How was she ever going to lose her virginity if she could barely get up the nerve to try to touch and push on her own hymen? It scared her to think of how sometime in the future that flesh would get ripped aside by some guy's hard dick.

After that session of self-inspection on prom night, she had fantasized about her brother being the one to break her cherry. Why not? He would be the classic example of tender yet firm.

She started developing a storyline that became her favorite go-to when she wanted to rub one out: that he'd come back home from college unexpectedly and find her after school, the house empty, sitting on the couch in the family room in a sexy little number. She'd have tears in her eyes and smeared makeup and explain how her friends made fun of her for being a virgin and that she didn't want to be one anymore. Robby would take her in his strong arms and say it was okay, that she was a delicate flower that needed the right kind of sunshine to be opened.

Silently he would lift her up to her parents bed, and she wouldn't say anything either but just watch his face carefully as he carried her. She'd hang onto him with her arms draped around him, fingers clasped behind his strong neck. Then he would lay her down and slowly remove her clothes, probing into her pussy first with his fingers and then maybe even with his tongue, then with his big dick. She loved thinking about his dick, especially the way his abs looked with that V shape thing on his muscles, the way the lines ran diagonally from the sides above his hips down to his groin.

It had taken him a lot of work in the weight room to look this way, she knew it well from all the times he'd pull his shirt up and his pants down just enough for her to see the V, stopping short of exposing the base of his penis. Their mother caught them doing this once and scolded Robby for being vain about his body, but he just laughed and pulled his pants up. Thankfully, she hadn't mentioned Mary's role in this or given her any criticism, catching them with her hand flat against the taut skin of his upper groin, but she was embarrassed being caught anyway. It was wrong, she knew, for her to be attracted in this way to her own brother, and she didn't want her mother to know.

In the fantasy she never got to where Robby actually penetrated her. She'd always reach orgasm while he was still staring into her eyes, caressing her hair and face, the bulging head of his fat dick nestled into her pussy lips and gently moving up and down, getting her wet and pushing against her but not going inside. It was his soft assurances that things were going to be okay, and the way he held her knowing that he was going to do whatever the fuck he desired with her, whether she wanted it or not, and that he would make her overcome her own hesitations; that was what would push her over the edge.

But that was fantasy.

Back in real life this old doctor had actually opened her pussy right down there, crouched between her legs with his video camera aimed up at her crotch. He held still, just looking at her vagina; every now and then one of his fingers would stretch her labia uncomfortably and she would pivot on her butt in an attempt to relieve the pinching feeling.

"Doctor!" she tried again in frustration to interrupt his manipulations.

"Quiet. This is an examination."

She was stunned. It wasn't a medical examination. It was an expose; a violation. Of her pussy. And it was all on camera.

"Hmm," he added, thinking. For the doctor's part, it had been a while since he had been able to play with such a pretty little virgin pussy and he savored it. He liked to run his finger around the part right near the hymen where it was a bright pink; he wanted badly to puncture the tissue but wasn't sure how to get away with it.

So instead he patted her bottom, saying "Up now."

"What?" She was confused.

He patted her bottom again, harder, but he was still holding her panties down to expose her vagina and the edge of her butt crack.

"Lift your bottom off the table."

"What?" She said again, but at the same time doing what he requested. It was like the glute bridge post she did in yoga which was embarrassing enough in a class with all women and everyone wearing Lululemon tights, she thought; but this was a hundred times worse with her pussy thrust up to the air, naked, gaping open, and the docs thumb wandering over her clit. And everything being filmed to boot.

A knock on the door saved her from whatever was going to be next. Bandler sighed and put down his toys, annoyed. Mary lay there on the table while he went to attend to the interruption, looking blankly at those ceiling tiles, still thinking about the doc filming her pussy and how she could get out of this. Then she straightened her panties and pulled the gown back together to cover her torso.

It turned out that the doc wasn't talking with the nurse, as she thought. Mary heard a voice she instantly recognized.

"Yes, Joseph," the voice said, deferentially, and in walked her mother! She sat up quickly, gathering her gown together in embarrassment. Being seen half naked by her Mom should have been no big deal, of course, but the situation wasn't one where she expected an audience of any kind. The surprise made her blush.

"Mom!" she exclaimed, and the door clicked shut as the doctor stepped out. Why did he leave, she wondered. The two of them were left alone in that little room and they stared at each other. Confused, Mary spoke again haltingly. "Wait, what?... What are you doing here? He just told me when we started that he wanted to see you."

"Hi Mary," Irene said softly, looking around the room with a pained expression on her face. She was dressed up and made up and was, in a word, beautiful. Mary hadn't seen her like this in a while, maybe since she and Dad went out to that campus event a few months ago for the award Robby got. Mary remembered her mother saying how she wanted to show up all the other college moms. And she did; it was impressive. Her mother had an awesome figure, more petite than Mary's own, and packed wonderfully into this sky blue ballroom dress. She even wore jewelry. But why all that here and now?

"Did the office call you here?" Mary tried.

"Yes, in a way," she admitted.

"But I'm okay. You didn't have to come."

Irene just nodded and was silent. Mary hopped off the bed and went over to hug her. Why did her Mom look so out of it? Something was bothering her, that was for sure.

"But Mom, now that you are here, I'm glad. This guy is... he's pretty weird.

Irene focused back on her daughter, with a new level of attention. "How's he weird?"

"Well, he kinda gives me the creeps in general. He touches me with his hands, they're rough. They scratch."

Irene nodded, knowingly.

"And then he was just feeling my stomach, you know, right now, just before you walked in. And he pulled out that camera; he filmed it!"

Irene's eyes went wide with interest. Wait, Mary thought; they showed signs of being moist. Had she been crying or something? Something was off here, and Mary was troubled that she couldn't see what. She was usually so good at reading her mother.

Irene asked, still processing what her daughter said, "He filmed you?"

"Yeah. And look, it's embarrassing..." Mary lowered her voice, even though nobody else was in the room. "I think he pulled my panties down, just for a sec, and filmed that too." She undersold the voyeurism to not shock her mom.

Irene's face fell.

"Mom, what does it mean? I'm confused. Is this normal?"

Irene sighed. "No, it's not normal. Not normal at all," she spoke down to the floor, contrite, as if to herself as well as to her daughter. Then she glanced back at the door, and back at her daughter standing in front of her, looking so vulnerable, wearing only that thin medical gown. She was a beautiful young woman, and so innocent.

"Mary--" she began, then stopped. There was so much she had to say but it was very hard to begin and she didn't know how much time she had.

"Yes. Mom, what is it? What's going on? I can tell something's fucked up here."

"Yes. It is as you say... fucked up."

"Whoa!" Mary exclaimed, reeling. Her mother never swore. "Mom!"

There was a shuffling of feet and sounds of conversation outside the door. They both turned, expecting Bandler to walk in at any moment. The mother turned to daughter with a sense of urgency.

"Mary, listen. I'm going to see another doctor now." She pointed. "Just in the other room."

"A different doctor, not this guy? Mom, what's going on? Are you okay? Is he like a specialist or something? Do you have a disease?"

"I'm fine. I mean, medically I'm fine. Healthy."

"So why do you have to see him? Bandler's a whack job, right, is that it? And you refuse to see him any more?"

"Well... not exactly."

"Should I leave, too? I want to get out of here."

Irene's face went cloudy with uncertainty. "Maybe you should go, honey. I don't know."

Then Bandler entered without announcing himself. The mother and daughter froze their conversation in place and looked at each other, then towards the large man at the door.

"Irene, the doctor is ready for you now. Room three. You know it well, I believe," he added, and Mary caught her mom's distant gaze when he said that. What the hell was that, she thought. It was a weird thing for the doc to say. Why would her mother know room three at the doctor's office so well? Had she had some disease and come here a lot? But the way Bandler said it didn't fit, because his tone was one of innuendo more than grave medical concern.

Irene connected eye-to-eye with her daughter briefly, trying to communicate something visually, but Mary couldn't make it out. Her mom looked stressed, and gave up, turning away.

"Yes, Joseph," she said in a quiet voice and walked out. She sure seemed to be ready to follow his commands, Mary thought. It left her feeling unsettled. She didn't like the idea of anyone being the boss of her mom.

"Well, Mary," the doc said after her mother left, letting things calm down in the room first. "This is quite the family affair today. There is another visitor for you, too."

She was entirely confused. Why would she have a visitor during her medical checkup?

"Send him in," Bandler told the nurse at the door, and then in came the last person in the world Mary expected to join her in that dusty exam room: her brother Robby. He seemed as confused as she was.

"Sis!" he said heartily in greeting.

"Robby?" she replied, more confused than ever.

The doc spoke to them from the doorway. "You two wait here. It's important for your mother," he added, as a way to prevent them from bolting. Then he left them alone in the exam room to stare at each other.

Where was Bandler going, Mary wondered--they were right in the middle of her examination, she thought. Something to do with Mom was all she could imagine. Was it a lie that there was nothing wrong with her? Were Bandler and this other doc going to come back here in a few minutes telling the kids that their mom was dying? It was the only explanation Mary could think of why her brother had showed up unexpectedly.

Speaking of which, she realized she was wearing only the thin paper gown and suddenly became self-conscious of her older brother in the exam room looking at her. It reminded her of those occasional times growing up when she'd caught Robby peeking at her with curiosity--when she ran from the shower and the towel slipped or they all changed into swimsuits in the car at the beach, or odd moments like that. He was an attractive boy, she always thought, and he had grown into a very attractive man. And she wasn't the only one to have a crush on him over the years; the girls lined up pining for attention. And didn't he know it.