by Cariad Hal
“And how long will I be a patient?”
“I’m sure a couple of days will be sufficient to check you out. We’ll see how it goes.” He gathered up the papers. “We are finished for today so you may go. In the meantime, I shall clear things with your employer. And I’m sure you will be able to resolve issues with your present accommodation. Remember to bill the clinic for any expenses incurred. Any questions before you leave?”
Yes, loads. But she could not think of any at that moment and shook her head. “No. Thank you.”
“Good. I shall therefore look forward to seeing you again on Monday.” He stood up and extended his hand across the desk.
She scraped back her chair and shook his hand. “Thank you.” Picking up her bag, she turned to leave.
“Anna will give you the keys to the car on your way out. It is yours to take.”
“That’s great. Thank you again,” she said.
“Oh, and Thea,” he called after her. “No intercourse, foreplay, masturbation, or orgasm, please. And no waxing or shaving, either. You come as you are. Is that clear?”
She nodded and closed the door behind her. Could this get any more embarrassing?
Chapter 6
He leaned back in his chair, crossed his foot over his thigh, and watched her go, thoughtful. She was clearly intelligent. Probably highly competent at her job. But there was an air of restraint about her. Holding back. Tightness. And she was almost tongue-tied at times. That was a little disappointing and unexpected. Ordinarily he would have passed over such a candidate. He needed vibrancy, energy, and enthusiasm. Why was he prepared to take her on?
Certainly her clitoral anatomy was anomalous and demanded further investigation, both for her own well-being and his own professional interest. Maybe her controlled tightness was related to her clitoral condition? Were her clitoral responses also tight, reduced in function? You would expect not, he speculated, with its degree of enlargement—or maybe this had no bearing on its function? Was her self-constraint instrumental in her apparent avoidance of relationships and sexual activity of any kind? He needed to find out.
Being honest, he thought, he had enjoyed examining her. His cock flicked in his pants as he remembered her luxuriant pubic hair—so natural, so real. It had been some time since he had examined a woman with full pubes, dark and soft as he ran his fingers through them, running down her crack.
And the unexpected jolt he had felt when he had dropped her gown to examine her breasts. Dark nipples, plump and prominent, tightening, pushing upward. Exceptional. Breasts perfect and full. He had not expected the reaction of his own body as he had rolled and cupped her flesh in his hands, squeezing her nipples. He rarely had any personal response to the many breasts and bodies he examined daily. But hers had rocked him.
Exploring her bottom had felt warm and luscious. Fingering her very private place, he had caught his breath as he had gently pushed into her anus, feeling her soft tissues. The friction of her rim moving up and down his finger. Inside had felt the natural place for his finger; deeply enveloping. He wanted very much to be in her bottom again. More deeply, more fully, more of him.
And all the time, the scent from her sex and her bottom and the presentation before him of her red lips and pink anus had been headily intoxicating.
His cock was throbbing. He unzipped his pants and eased out his erection. It was clear he would not get home without finishing this. Staff had gone home. Slowly he took hold of his erect cock and began to attend to its needs. With the compelling thought of his swollen manhood being deeply buried in Thea’s bottom, pumping in and out, he delayed orgasm for as long as he could, then convulsed with the spewing of his semen over his hand and images of her stretched bottom flooding his mind. He groaned with the glorious, sensuous ripples running through his body.
As his body and mind recovered, he forced himself to regain his composure. He would remain professional but was already looking forward to seeing, and examining, his new patient again on Monday.
Chapter 7
She sat in her new car, feeling dazed. Her body was buzzing where he had pushed and probed. Now she was sitting in this amazing car, which was now her car. How weird was that? And she had agreed to give up her job immediately and her apartment. Crazy. Was she crazy? She did not know anymore.
But however crazy the whole thing was, she knew she was going to see it through. The car and apartment were too gorgeous. And she could always leave after three months if she hated it. But just to experience the life, even for a short time, would be great and she would earn more money. The thing that had started all this was her wreck of a car, which she could not afford to repair or replace. And now she had this one. Her apartment was pretty rubbish anyway. So in one move she had solved all her problems. She did not have to give work notice for her job. And all expenses would be paid for. Amazing. She had landed on her feet with this one. Having sorted out her thoughts in her head, she started up the engine. Time to get moving. There was a lot to do.
By midday the next day she had cancelled the lease on her apartment and arranged a company to come in, pack up all her stuff, and put it in storage. The lease company was none too pleased but she merely told them to bill the clinic for all costs and triumphantly ended the conversation. It felt good to have some power.
She felt exhausted as she had been up all night sorting and packing things she would take with her. Which, thankfully, took her mind off her body. For the first time in ages, because he had fingered her so intimately, she had wanted to finish off what her body thought he had started. She wanted to touch her little bud, feel it pulsate under her fingers and enjoy a good orgasm. She had not felt that for so long. But he had said no orgasms, no masturbation. No intercourse or foreplay. So she had dug deep and used her old friend—discipline—to keep her fingers away. It would have been more difficult if she had not been so busy.
Once all her furniture and belongings had disappeared down the road in the removal van, she collected her final bits, loaded them into her new car, and headed for the hotel she had booked for the night. Tomorrow, her new job, or some sort of start of her new job. At least she would be in her new apartment—well, after the inpatient bit was over, anyway. She tried to call Simon to explain all that had happened and that she had got the job but he did not pick up. She shrugged her shoulders. She would try him again in the morning if she had time.
Chapter 8
Monday morning she parked her car near her new apartment. She was late. Leaving the few things she had with her in the car, she grabbed her small case that held some essentials and hurried to the main clinic block.
“Thea Day,” she introduced herself over the desk breathlessly. “I’m due as an inpatient today.”
The receptionist consulted her lists. “Ah, yes. Dr. Bruno’s patient.”
“Well, not exactly ‘patient.’ I am also the new…”
“No need to explain, Miss Day. A patient’s reasons for being here are quite confidential,” smiled the girl.
She thinks I’m here for ‘special services,’ thought Thea, shocked. “No, I’m Doctor Day…” she began.
Again she was cut short. “You are in Room 411. I will get someone to take you up.”
Thea gave up. They were not going to listen. She would have to go along with their admissions protocol. Put up with it.
A nurse took her to her room. “Please strip off and put on the gown you’ll find on the bed and get in the bed.”
“I don’t need to be in bed. I’m not ill.”
“Dr. Bruno will be doing his rounds soon. He will require you to be stripped and ready for examination, whatever your reasons to be here.”
“Look, I’m your new resident doctor…” she tried again, exasperated.
The nurse would not listen. “You will need to hurry as you arrived late for your admission.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry for that…”
“So please strip and get into bed. There is no time to do your enema now, so
we’ll do it later.”
“What? I’m not having an enema. I don’t need an enema…”
The nurse ignored her protests. “Everyone has an enema on arrival. Dr. Bruno requires it. I’ll leave you to get undressed. He will be here soon.”
Reluctantly, Thea got undressed and slipped on the gown, keeping her panties on defiantly. That, at least, made her feel less vulnerable. She had hardly settled herself in the bed when the door opened. It was Dr. Bruno, followed by five others in white coats. Students. No! She did not want this. Nervously, she looked over the group.
“Simon!” She was shocked. What was he doing here? He was shuffling in at the back of the group and grinned sheepishly at her with a shrug of his shoulders.
Dr. Bruno looked at her, then at Simon. “You know each other?”
Simon nodded. “Colleagues. At the Fairview Hospital.”
“Mmm. Fascinating. However, we shall continue.”
“Excuse me, Dr. Bruno,” protested Thea. “I am not happy with a colleague being here…”
“I really do not care what you think,” he cut in coolly. “You are a patient here…”
“No, I am a resident medic here and…”
“And your duties are to take an active part in all areas of clinic requirements and procedures.”
“Yes, but not this. I did not sign for this.”
“Your contract states all areas. And your present duty is to be available as a patient in view of your interesting clitoral anomaly. For which, may I remind you, full medical review is to your benefit.”
She could not believe he was so outspoken about her condition. But she was thinking like a medic and not a patient who had given over her privacy to her consultant. The boundaries were blurred. She was both and, she supposed, more patient than medic right now as she had not worked there even for one minute as a medic. She had not gotten a leg to stand on in her protestations.
“Now, shall we continue?” he said, noting her hesitation and confusion. He turned to the students. “You all have copies of each patient’s notes. This is Thea Day and, as she rightly stated, she is a new resident medic here. Your colleague, effectively. In the medical field, she is more experienced than the majority of you—except, as we now know, Dr. Simon over there. However, you all start at the same level here as we operate in a very specialized field. You, Dr. Day, are learning procedures from the patient’s point of experience, which is not a bad thing and will give you greater insight over the next few days until you can resume your medical duties with the rest of this group.”
She glared at him. He ignored her.
“We shall begin. Today, I shall show you briefly how to conduct an examination that every patient receives daily, regardless of their presented condition. Obviously, any extra examinations relating to the specific conditions of each patient will also be carried out. So it is somewhat fortuitous that we can practice on a member of the team who has a genuine anomaly requiring investigation.” He gestured to Thea. “May I have the patient’s baseline test results, please, nurse?”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Bruno, we do not have any results as the patient arrived late for admission.”
“What?” He was annoyed, turning to Thea. “And?”
“I… I’m… sorry…”
“Lateness is not to be tolerated,” he admonished.
“I know. It won’t happen again.”
“Sir,” he instructed.
“I’m sorry… Sir.” Once again she felt overwhelmed by his superiority and annoyed with herself for feeling that way.
He sighed. “Right. Roll onto your stomach.”
“Why?” she asked, puzzled.
“Dr. Thea, all you need to do is to comply. Now flip over onto your stomach.” He reached for a pillow. “Rest your hips on the pillow. Nurse, a thermometer, please. Presumably the patient has not had an enema either?”
The nurse shook her head.
“No, you’re not going to…”
“Yes, Dr. Thea. All temperatures are taken rectally and daily.”
“But I don’t want you to…” she protested.
“Will you please refrain from these protestations and cooperate? This is going to happen so relax and let’s get it done.” Turning to the students, he continued. “Generally, this would be done by nursing staff but there will be occasions when you will need to do it so do not get out of practice.”
Thea was now, resignedly, lying over the pillow with her hips raised. He lifted her gown.
“Nurse, I require patients to be without underwear,” he said crossly.
“The patient was instructed to strip, Doctor.”
“Another of your protests, Thea? Lift up your hips, please.”
As she did, he pulled down her panties. He worked quickly and deftly pulled her cheeks apart, exposing her bottom hole. She could feel her hole stretching and opening as he pulled and cringed with embarrassment, covering her face with her arm, knowing that all those students would be seeing it.
“Lubricant, please.” He held out his hand as the nurse squeezed some out on his fingers while his other hand held her buttocks apart. He smeared it over her anus. “Have you had a rectal thermometer inserted before, Thea?”
She shook her head. He placed the bulb against her anus.
“You’ll barely feel it,” he reassured, then pushed it in through her tight, puckered rim, embedding it deeply. “There. It is in position. Okay?”
She nodded but did not look up.
Turning to the students, he continued his instructions. “The patient can be in a number of positions for taking temperatures rectally. It is of no interest to me which position you wish the patient to be in. Whilst the thermometer is in the rectum, it is an opportunity to check the whole anal area.”
Once more he held her buttocks apart, stretching her anus, and began probing the flesh around it, pushing deeply. “You can see this is a healthy anus, good color, good tight musculature, good pliable surround tissue. And…” he moved his examining hand lower, lifting her hips a little higher, palpating her perineum, “healthy perineal tissue.” He released her buttocks.
She sank back onto the pillow with relief.
“I’m going to remove the thermometer now, Thea, so relax, please.” He separated her cheeks again and slid the rod out of her bottom. “Normal.”
“Of course it is normal—I’m not unwell,” she breathed.
He pulled her panties over her bottom. “Turn over onto your back, please.”
For once she did as he asked without protest.
“Breast examination, for male and female patients,” he continued. “Some patients are very conscious about exposing their bodies, at least for the first day or two of being here, until they accept that this is standard practice here and their breasts will be examined daily, sometimes twice daily.” He threw a blanket across Thea’s lower body. “We respect that, initially, and doing the breast exam this way, by not fully removing the gown, helps them to feel a little less exposed.”
He began to lift her gown up over her breasts, to her upper chest. She tried to hold onto it, to stop him showing her breasts but he firmly pushed her hands apart and settled the gown under her chin. She felt her nipples tighten. There was no end to this embarrassment, and she could barely look at the students. All eyes were on her breasts. Then his hands were on them, warm and gently pushing and rolling her flesh. She caught her breath and she could not suppress her body arching, almost imperceptibly, up to his hands. She looked up to him. He was looking at her face. She knew he had felt her body react below his hands. His examination continued and deepened around her nipples.
“Question the patient on breast health. Any change in appearance. Any discharge. Any pain. Be sure to probe deeply into the breast tissue and nipples.”
The rolling action of his hands on her breasts felt good, she shamefully admitted to herself. If it was not for the spectators, she could begin to accept this, if it was only the handsome Dr. Matteo Bruno massaging her brea
sts.
He finished his probing and pulled her gown down again, covering her breasts, and pressed a button under the bed. Instantly, the bed automatically adjusted itself and stirrups moved out from the sides.
“Remove her panties, please, nurse.”
“No” she moaned as her panties were pulled off and her feet were placed in the stirrups. Her bottom and genitals were fully exposed. She could barely swallow with the shame.
“Examining the abdomen, genitals, and bottom unavoidably requires exposure. There is no way it can be prettied up for the patient. They book in here and by doing so they accept that procedures frequently will be exposing and embarrassing. So, let’s proceed.”
He pushed her gown up to her waist and her knees wide apart. They could see everything, all her private parts. There was no escaping it. And she was in her natural state, as he had instructed.
“Let’s address the issue of pubic hair. Most patients—or clients, if you prefer—will come in with some form of partial hair removal or even total hair removal. Some medics prefer all pubic hair to be removed to aid examination. I, personally, have no preference. I do not find that the hair growth interferes with my examinations, diagnosis, and treatment. So, unless there is a specific reason to remove all pubic hair or a medic prefers the patient to be denuded of hair, the patient can present as they see fit. As you can see, Thea has full pubic growth that extends naturally down between her buttocks.” He pushed her knees a little further apart, allowing the students to observe the full extent of her pubes. “She will remain this way as there is no real obscuration of the clitoris.”
Hang on a minute, thought Thea. You instructed me not to remove any. But she dared not interrupt him.
“We are running out of time today as we have other patients to see so I’ll just show you the clitoris and we’ll do the next stage of examination tomorrow and determine any other specific procedures Thea requires. So, come in a little closer and I’ll retract the clitoral hood.”