tagBDSMAmber's Exam Ch. 01

Amber's Exam Ch. 01


Amber tugged anxiously at her dark blonde hair and walked hesitantly up to the desk. These appointments always made her so nervous! She hated even saying the words out loud.

"I'm here for, a, um..." She blushed.

"What's your name?" the receptionist asked.

"Amber. Amber Jenkins."

"Amber Jenkins, scheduled for a full physical and gynecology exam at two-thirty p.m.," the receptionist said loudly. Amber couldn't believe it -- the whole waiting room could hear. This was so unprofessional! But maybe that's what happened when you tried to get things for free. Amber wasn't sure this appointment at the teaching hospital was such a good idea anymore, but what could she do? She was flat broke, had no insurance, and hadn't been to the doctor's in forever.

"So you realize that this is a teaching hospital, and that in exchange for receiving free medical services, the results of the exam may be used for both research and teaching purposes. We have a form here for you to sign that lays out the requirements –read it carefully before agreeing to participate." The receptionist handed Amber a clipboard holding a thick document covered in fine print. Amber started to skim it, but then flipped to the back and signed. It's not like they'd let somebody who didn't know what they were doing actually perform an exam – they could get sued! And besides, she'd gotten her hair cut for free by students at the beauty school a bunch of times, and it had always turned out fine.

The receptionist took the clipboard back, her eyebrows slightly raised. "I should point out that the equipment required to perform a standard exam, in addition to the per hour salary of the physicians and staff, are quite expensive, and so should you for some reason be unable or unwilling to complete the full physical, you will be responsible for the costs incurred."

Amber shrugged. "Ok. I mean, I guess. How much is that?"

"Without insurance, that could be in the range of eight to ten thousand dollars."

Amber yelped. "What? That's so much!"

The receptionist smiled a little. "It's a very comprehensive exam, and the technology is state-of-the-art. It's well worth it."

"I don't have that much money, though!"

"Well, then." The receptionist smiled a little. "I guess you'll just have to stick with it. But I'm sure you'll be fine – I mean, what could go wrong?"


After a few minutes, a nurse led Amber into a small room, and handed her a paper gown.

"Remove everything, and tie this in the back," she said, and left.

Once the door had shut, Amber slowly pulled her t-shirt up over her head and tugged her skirt down around her ankles. She folded both items neatly and placed them on the chair. Then, reluctantly, she reached behind and undid the clasp of her bra. Her breasts swung free and she flushed, even though no one was watching. Her boobs were the bane of her existence. Disproportionately huge on her thin frame, with silver-dollar-sized pink nipples that always seemed to be popping obscenely erect, they made her feel ridiculous, almost like a cartoon. She sighed, then removed her white lace underwear before tying on the gown.

This one was even shorter than most, and the half moons of her tiny rear end peeped out beneath its edge. As she pulled at it, Amber had a thought – this room was too small for an exam! There wasn't even a table in here. Was she going to have to walk somewhere else in this outfit?

As though reading her mind, the nurse opened the door and gestured to her. "Follow me," she said, briskly.

"But –" Before she could say anything, the nurse had already begun walking away. Embarrassed, Amber took hold of the gown, yanked it down as far as she could, and shuffled into the hallway.

Luckily, the hall was empty, and all the doors were closed. The nurse walked to the far end, and then opened up a door that led to a short stairwell. "Just up the stairs, the first door on your right," the nurse said.

Certain that the nurse could see straight up her gown, Amber walked as quickly as she could up the stairs – crossing her arms over her chest to minimize the bouncing - and then pushed the door opened and stepped inside.

At first, the light was so bright that she couldn't see anything, and she blinked a couple of times, confused. She took a couple of steps forward, trying to figure out what she was seeing, and a man in a white coat turned to her and said, cheerfully, "Aha! You must be Amber! Come on in."

Amber stood still, her hands gripping her gown. "I don't, uh – what's going on?"

The man smiled. "This is a teaching hospital. Welcome to class."

She was standing on a well-lit wooden stage in an amphitheater. The audience was in shadow, but there must have been about a hundred and fifty students sitting in front of her, all about her age, all dressed in scrubs, each holding a notepad and a pen. The stage in front of her was set up just like a doctor's office, with an exam table, a set of drawers, a couple of chairs, and a scale. A couple of students were milling about onstage, and a few others were working on something just offstage, in the corner. Amber felt a wave of dizziness pass over her, and her legs felt like jelly.

"I didn't agree to this..." she mumbled.

"I'm sorry," the doctor said brightly, "But I have your signed consent form right here. You can change your mind, of course, but I'm sure our receptionist explained all the terms and conditions, and now that we're all assembled here, I'm afraid the exam has officially begun. It's really not that bad, though – I know you're shy, but it'll be super easy. We're all professionals, it'll go by quick, and, you'll be contributing to science!"

Amber knew she had no choice. She couldn't afford to back out now. As though she were in a dream, she walked out onto center stage and sat down in the seat the doctor offered.

"Great, Amber. I'm so glad you decided to participate. Everyone, let's give Amber a round of applause to thank her for being here." The thunderous sound of three hundred hands clapping made Amber feel sick. She pressed her legs tightly together and closed her eyes.

"Well, we're just about ready to begin. The tech guys are just finished setting up in the corner. In the meantime, let's get Amber fitted for a mike, shall we?" Amber's blue eyes snapped open. A pimply teenager briskly snapped a headset onto her, adjusting the microphone so that it sat just a few inches from her trembling mouth.

"Say your name," he requested.

"A- Amber," she said shakily.

"Did you get that?" he asked someone offstage.

"Full name, please," the doctor said.

"Amber Jenkins," Amber said, and her amplified voice roared through the theater.

"Great!" said the doctor. "Now, do we have visual?"

To Amber's horror, a large screen descended slowly from the ceiling. A light flickered, and then there she was, sitting in the chair, in living color. Hey, she thought. Shouldn't that be facing the other way? But then she looked around the room, and saw several other screens, all glowing with the same image – Amber, with her short gown riding up her thighs, her cheeks glowing red with embarrassment. She looked at the floor, and willed this all to be over.

"Ok, class, let's get started," the doctor said. "This is gynecology 101. We begin, as in most exams, with a brief interview. Amber, when was your last gynecology exam?"

"Last year." Her voice hardly rose above a whisper, but the microphone worked perfectly, broadcasting her voice to every corner of the auditorium."

"And are you currently sexually active?"


"You're a virgin?"


"O-kay. When did you last have sex?"

"Well – I" Amber hesitated. She looked up, her dark lashes fluttering nervously over her big blue eyes. "I haven't really had sex in a year, but I sort of, um –" The doctor was standing over her, his arms crossed, and she confessed in a whisper. "I sort of had sex last night."

"Really? You 'sort of" had sex. Care to explain?"

"Uh –" Oh, she was so stupid! why hadn't she just lied? "I um, well, I didn't have, um, sex sex, I just –"


Amber hung her head in humiliation. "I had – " she whispered. "Anal. I had anal sex."

"Anal sex!" The doctor sounded slightly shocked, but he recovered quickly and turned to the audience. "Although this is slightly unusual, it's good that this came up. As many of you might be aware, the sexual behavior of some of today's young women is much more shall we say, flexible, than in generations past. As shocking as it might be to an old fogey like me, some women don't consider anal sex to be sex at all, so it's important to be very specific when conducting the interview. Ok, Amber," he turned back to her. "You don't consider yourself to be sexually active, but you engaged in anal sex within the last twenty-four hours. May I ask about other sexual behaviors you have engaged in, other than anal or vaginal intercourse, within the past year?"

Amber's face felt like it was on fire. What were all these students thinking? Did she know any of them? They all knew her name, and now they were going to know she was a total slut. "I had, um, oral sex."


"This morning, before I came here."

"Giving or receiving?"

"Um, giving."

The doctor exhaled sharply. "Well!" he said jocularly. "I'll be looking down your throat later in the exam, so I hope you brushed your teeth!" The audience of students laughed appreciatively at the lame joke at her expense. A surge of defiance rose in her, and she tried to explain herself. "It's just– birth control is so expensive and I haven't been on it in a year, and my boyfriend hates condoms, so we've just been doing the other stuff for a while, but I really don't like it, especially the, um," she whispered, "-- the anal - and so that's why I was hoping maybe you could give me a prescription for the pill or something."

"Why sure, Amber," the doctor said sympathetically. "We can do that. So, you're in a monogamous relationship right now? You've only engaged in sexual behavior with your boyfriend during this past year?"

Amber froze. She caught sight of herself on the monitor, blushing up to her hairline, her knees trembling. Every time her legs opened, you could see a flash of her - Oh, God. "We're, um, pretty much monogamous, but, um, not exactly."

"Please continue..." the doctor's sarcasm was audible, and a few students giggled.

"My boyfriend likes – well, sometimes he asks me to – occasionally I – just as a favor..." she paused, then blurted it out. "He makes me give his friends blow jobs sometimes. But I never do anal with them. That's only with him."

"Good to know," the doctor said, dryly. "Ok, so including the men you've had oral sex with, how many sexual partners have you had within the last year?"

"Um, maybe, ten?" her voice cracked. She could hear him marking something down in her chart.

"And in your lifetime?"

"Still ten. He just started making me do stuff this year, after he lost this stupid


"So if I'm understanding you correctly, you have only had vaginal and anal sex

with one man, your boyfriend, but you have engaged in oral sex with approximately ten additional partners?"

Amber nodded.

"Any lesbian activity?"


"Any other risky behavior we should know about? Drug use, tattoos, other exposure to bodily fluids?"


"Any prior history of STDs?"


"Ever been tested?"


The doctor turned to the students again. Amber watched him on the gigantic

monitor – tall, handsome, with a shock of salt and pepper hair. "Given the patient's history of promiscuity, I'm going to recommend a full STD screening, including HIV and the herpes virus. Is that ok with you, Amber?"

Amber nodded, the word "promiscuity" ringing in her ears. He'd just called her a slut in front of a hundred and fifty people.

"Great. Wasn't that easy? Now let's get started with the physical." He gestured to Amber to stand up. At first, she didn't think she'd be able to do it, but she raised herself out of the plastic orange chair and headed towards the examination table, eyeing the dreaded stirrups nervously.

The doctor clamped his hand down on her shoulder. "Well, you're quite the eager beaver, aren't you?" A couple of students snickered, but he seemed unaware that he'd made a pun. "We'll get there, but first I'd like to measure your height and weight. Please come over here and stand up straight."

Amber did as he requested.

"Straighter, please. No slouching."

Amber hesitated. She could see herself on the huge T.V. screen, and as she straightened up, the flimsy paper gown rode up her tanned thighs, but remained covering her crotch by just the tiniest amount. Even though she knew even that minimal privacy would be short-lived, Amber sighed in relief.

"Five feet six inches. Please turn around and step onto the scale."

As she turned to step on the scale, Amber realized by the wave of cool air that flowed around her that one of the two straps tying her gown together had come undone. The gown was still tied up by the back of her neck, but the rest of it flapped free. As she stood on the scale and waited for the doctor to finish fussing with the measurements, her skin burned with the fiery sensation of one hundred and fifty pairs of eyes staring straight at her rounded, bouncy, butt-naked ass.

"One hundred and twenty pounds," the doctor announced. "Ok, Amber, you can hop up onto that examination table now."

The real fun was about to begin.

The examination table was made of dark brown leather, and covered with a strip of white paper. Like the other exam tables Amber had seen, it had a pair of metal stirrups sticking out of one end, but unlike most tables, it was also fitted with a pair of armrests. Also, unlike most exam tables, it was apparently operated by remote control. Before Amber could climb up, the doctor pressed a button and the table whirred and moved, raising the top up so that it was shaped more like a slightly reclining easy chair. The doctor looked at the table thoughtfully and then pressed another button, and the armrests disappeared beneath the table.

"That seems like the best position for right now," he said. "We'll be starting with the breast exam."

Wow, Amber thought. This must be the state-of-the-art equipment the receptionist was talking about. She clambered up onto the table, aware that she was mooning half the audience as she did so. Once she was settled, she sat still, trying to avoid looking either at the audience or at the gigantic T.V. screen showing her own image. She knew what was coming next, but couldn't make herself do it until she was ordered.

"Ok, Amber. Why don't you pull down that gown and we can get started."

With her eyes closed tight, trying to keep back tears, Amber untied the bow at the back of her neck and slid her arms out of the holes in her gown. Keeping the paper material carefully tucked over her waist, she slowly pulled the gown down, exposing her breasts to the audience.

"Oh, shit!" the doctor exclaimed. Amber's blue eyes flew open, and she turned to him, her mouth open in astonishment. She knew her tits were huge – her boyfriend was always commenting on them – but the doctor was supposed to be a professional.

Amber quickly realized the doctor wasn't talking to her. The huge video screen had gone black. Amber gasped in relief and quickly folded her arms over her naked breasts. "Thank God."

"What is the problem over there?" the doctor demanded.

"I dunno," a nerdy-looking boy answered. "It's not the monitor. I think it's some problem with the video camera, but I'm working on it."

"We don't have much time," the doctor said. "I think the class has a pretty clear view – anyone who is having trouble seeing is welcome to join me onstage. But we do need to document the exam. Arnold, you've got a digital camera up there, right? Why don't you serve as photographer while Jake tries to fix the video."

"Sure," Arnold said. "I can even feed the pictures up to the monitor."

"Great," the doctor said. "Let's continue.

About fifteen students shuffled up to the front, and Amber watched as they settled themselves around her exam chair, pens and notebooks ready.

"All right, Amber, why don't you uncross your arms and let everybody get a look," the doctor said.

Shakily, Amber put her arms down by her side.

"Can everybody see?" the doctor asked. "Amber, turn this way a bit, and raise your hands above your head." Amber obeyed, and the slight jiggling of her breasts felt to her like an earthquake. "Ok, Arnold, picture," the doctor said, and Amber was blinded by a flashbulb. As soon as she could see again, her eyes went straight to the monitor, and sure enough, there she was – her eyes half squinted shut, her lips slightly parted, and her breasts - two huge scoops of pale flesh, topped with pink nipples like cherries on a sundae – taking up half the screen.

"Hey, I've got the video working again!" Jake called.

"Perfect," the doctor said. "But Arnold, why don't you keep photographing, just in case." So there she was – onstage half-naked, a boy with a video camera on one side, a kid snapping pictures on the other. She felt like a celebrity being mobbed by paparazzi.

"Amber," the doctor said. "Do you perform regular self-exams?" Unable to speak, Amber just shook her head. "Well, I'll tell you what. Why don't you perform some of the exam with me, and that way it can be a learning experience for everyone." Amber swallowed, and nodded.

"Usually, I like to start just by getting a feel for the breast," the doctor said. His hand – which Amber realized had at some point acquired a rubber glove – cupped the bottom of her breast and lifted it carefully. He paused, and looked at Amber pointedly. Amber realized what he was expecting, and, after a second, reached up and grasped hold of her own breast. The doctor shook the breast he was holding gently, as though testing its weight, and, blushing, Amber shook hers, too. She felt like they were waving her tits at the audience, but the students stared back, blasé. The doctor pushed her breast up high and to the center of her chest. Amber followed dutifully, creating a mountain of cleavage. "Arnold, picture," the doctor said, and the camera flashed. Without warning, the doctor dropped the breast he was lifting, and it bobbed up and down obscenely. Reluctantly, Amber let her other breast fall, too.

"I like to get a sense of size, shape, firmness, elasticity, bounce – all of which indicate health," the doctor said. He placed two fingers on the underside of her breast and rapidly moved them up and down, and her soft flesh rippled and shook. "Everything's looking good so far," the doctor said, and patted her on the shoulder.

"Of course, the nipple is the most sensitive part of the breast, so you need to treat it gently, but it's also important to examine it closely, because a healthy nipple is crucial to sexual pleasure, as well as lactation." He took Amber's nipple between his finger and thumb and pinched it gently. Amber squeaked in pain, but obediently took her other nipple in her hand. Then, the doctor pulled her breast outward by the nipple and stretched it as far out as it would go. Amber gasped in shock. This wasn't right – but then, what about this exam wasn't bizarre? She tugged her own nipple forward. "A little further, Amber, please?" the doctor said. Amber winced and yanked her breast out as far as she could. "Arnold, picture please," the doctor said. The camera flashed, and the doctor let the nipple go. Amber grunted a little and rubbed at her stinging tits with her wrist. The doctor gently swatted her hand away.

"Great," the doctor said. "Now that we're comfortable, we'll start the in-depth portion of the exam. Lots of people don't like to use lotion, but I find it really intensifies my sense of touch." The doctor took a bottle, squeezed a clear liquid onto his palm, and then rubbed his hands together vigorously. "The lotion's been in the fridge – we want to warm it up!" he said. He gestured to Amber, and squirted a dollop of cold, slippery gel into her hand. "Ok!" he said. "Just do what I do!" His slick, rubber-gloved fingers grabbed hold of her tit, and he enthusiastically slathered her skin with the oil. Sickened, Amber dabbed some of the gel onto her breast, but she hadn't warmed it in her hands, and it sent a chill through her body. Immediately, her left nipple stiffened up. Oh, God. The doctor was squeezing and squishing her right tit, and all the heat and attention had made her right nipple just as hard. Amber tried to mimic what the doctor was doing – he seemed to be massaging his way from the outside of her breast inward, poking and prodding in a complicated pattern – but all she could really do was just awkwardly grope herself, as though she was uncomfortably showing off for her boyfriend, the way he sometimes made her do. She accidentally glanced up at the monitor, and moaned in horror. Her breasts were shiny, swollen and flushed, soaked in oil and sweat, and they slid heavily through the fingers that were squeezing them. Her long pink nipples were as erect as she'd ever seen them, and they waggled to and fro as her tits shook from all the attention. It was a disgusting display, but watching herself, Amber felt a crawling heat in between her legs that only added to her shame.

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