The door to the exam room opened, and in walked Dr. Wilson, his tall, broad frame casting a shadow over the room. His eyes swept over her, his expression unreadable as he took in her naked form. He was a man of around 45, with salt-and-pepper hair and a stern face that was currently etched with concentration. He was dressed in a crisp white lab coat, and the sight of him sent a thrill through her body. "Thank you, Nurse Carlton," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate within her very bones.

"Iris," he began, his eyes meeting hers, "I want to ensure that you are in the best possible health to work here. It's a demanding job, and we need to ensure you can handle it. This examination will be thorough, but it's for your own good. Do you understand?"

Iris nodded, her voice a mere whisper. "Yes, doctor."

With that, he approached the table, his hands already gloving up. "Let's start with your limbs," he said, his voice still firm but with a hint of kindness. His hands were cool and firm as he began to examine her arms, his thumbs pressing into the soft flesh, moving from her shoulders down to her wrists, checking for any signs of weakness or irregularities.

Next, he moved to her legs, his hands gliding over her thighs and calves, feeling for any knots or tension. His touch was firm, almost to the point of discomfort. The next command came swiftly. "Bend over the table," Dr. Wilson instructed, his voice a firm demand that sent a shiver of anticipation down Iris's spine. She complied, her palms flat on the cold, hard surface, her red hair cascading around her shoulders. Her heart pounded in her chest as she felt the cool draft of air caress her bare backside, her cheeks spreading slightly.

He approached her from behind, his gloved hands moving to her waist, his fingers digging in slightly as he steadied her. She could feel the heat of his body, so close to her own, and she knew that he could see everything. The thought was both terrifying and exhilarating. His hands began to move along her spine, his thumbs pressing firmly into the base of her back, sending waves of pleasure-pain through her body.

He moved down, his touch growing more intimate as he reached her lower back. His fingers traced the dimples at the base of her spine, the small of her back, before moving lower, over the curve of her ass. He palpated the soft flesh, his touch firm and commanding, he bent down, putting his eyes level with her backbone.

His hands continued their exploration, moving down her thighs, his fingers brushing the sensitive skin just above her knees before moving back up. He paused for a moment, his thumbs lingering on the crevice between her cheeks,.

As he worked, Iris felt the heat between her legs grow, her body betraying her with every touch. She couldn't help but wonder what would come next, her imagination running wild with the possibilities. Would he touch her more intimately? Would he find her lacking? The anticipation was almost too much to bear, her heart racing in her chest.

Dr. Wilson's hands moved lower, pressing into the small of her back, and she could feel her body responding, her muscles tightening in anticipation. "Now, let's see how flexible you are," he said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to caress her skin. He had her stand up and lean over the table, her breasts hanging down, the cool air of the room caressing her bare skin. "Spread your legs," he instructed, and she complied, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks as she opened herself up even further to his scrutiny.

He began to push down on her back, and she felt herself sinking lower, her body stretching in ways she never knew it could. His hands moved to her hips, his thumbs pressing into the flesh as he encouraged her to go further. "Good," he said, his voice approving. "Very good."

Finally, with a nod, he released her, and she slowly straightened up, her muscles trembling with the effort. "Good," he said again, his voice a rumble of approval. "You'll need to work on that, but we'll get there."

"You're a bit heavier than I'd like," Dr. Wilson said, his voice a mix of disapproval and concern. "Nurse Carlton, get the callipers."

Iris felt a stab of embarrassment at the comment, but she remained still, her body tense with anticipation. She heard the sound of the nurse rummaging through a drawer before returning with the medical instrument.

"OK Iris, put the gown on the table and stand straight for me." Iris felt cold and hot all at once, standing completely naked, her bald vagina out, with two sets of eyes on her.

Dr. Wilson took the callipers from the nurse and began to measure the fat around Iris's thighs, the cold metal pushing into her soft fair skin, his expression thoughtful as he noted the readings. "This is a sedentary job," he said, his voice firm, "you're going to need a much more proactive exercise plan if you want to keep up."

He moved around to the front of the table, his eyes sweeping over her form. "You're still young," he said, his voice a little softer, "you'll be able to lose this puppy fat with the right motivation."

The words stung, but she couldn't deny the truth in them. She had always struggled with her weight, and the idea of someone as fit and in control as Dr. Wilson guiding her to a healthier lifestyle was oddly appealing. She watched in the mirror as he took the callipers again, this time pressing them into the soft flesh of her stomach. "We'll need to work on your core," he said, his eyes meeting hers in the reflection. "But I have no doubt you can do it."

The way he said it, with such confidence, made her believe him. She felt a strange mix of humiliation and excitement, knowing that her body would be under his scrutiny, that he would be watching her progress. It was as if he saw something in her that she hadn't seen herself, a potential for perfection that she desperately wanted to achieve.

"Now, let's move on to the next part of the exam," Dr. Wilson said, his voice breaking through her thoughts. He took the callipers and gave her ass a firm jiggle, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror. "Pop the gown back on, and sit on the table," he instructed.

Iris quickly slipped the gown back on and hopped onto the table, her legs swinging over the side as she perched on the cold, unforgiving surface.

Dr. Wilson took his stethoscope and approached her, his gaze intense as he leaned in to examine her eyes. His breath was warm on her face as he shone a light into her pupils, his fingers gentle as they held her chin in place. She could feel the warmth of his body, so close to hers, and her heart raced with excitement. His touch was professional, yet somehow intimate, as if he were peering into her very soul.

He moved to her ears next, the cold metal of the otoscope sending a shiver down her spine as he inserted it. She could hear her own breathing, loud in the quiet room, as he tilted her head to the side and examined each ear in turn. The sensation of his gloved finger pressing against her ear canal was a strange invasion. Then he had her tip her head back, and shone a light up her nostrils. He then reached for small metal instrument with adjustable blades. "I'm going to use a nasal speculum to look into your nasal passage." and Iris felt a new wave of fear wash over her. She had never had one used before, and the thought of the cold metal entering her nose was almost too much to bear. "This is a standard part of the exam," he said, his voice calm, as if he could sense her apprehension. "It's to check for any blockages or issues in your sinuses."

The doctor leaned in, his face just inches from hers. He inserted the speculum into her left nostril, the sensation both unpleasant and strangely thrilling. She could feel the instrument moving through her nasal cavity, the pressure increasing as it reached further in. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to flinch, as he twisted it slightly to get a better view. The sound of his breathing was loud in her ears, and she could feel his breath on her face, warm and slightly minty.

"Now, I need you to breathe deeply through your mouth," he instructed, as he switched to the right side of her nose. She obeyed, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The pressure grew, and she felt a sudden urge to sneeze, her eyes watering.

"Good," he said, finally, straightening up. "Now, I see from Nurse Carlton's notes that you have a bit of a weak gag reflex, so I'm going to use a jennings gag to make the next part of the exam easier." His voice was matter-of-fact, as if this was the most natural thing in the world, and Iris felt a thrill of fear mixed with arousal. He pulled out a silver device and held it up for her to see. It was a dental gag, designed to hold her mouth open wide.

Iris nodded, her throat tight with anticipation as the doctor approached her, the gag in his hand. He inserted the metal bite into her mouth, his fingers cool and firm as he adjusted it to a wider, making sure she was comfortable despite the intrusion. The sensation of being so open and vulnerable was overwhelming. She felt a strange sense of submission, as if she were being claimed by the doctor and the nurse, made to endure whatever they deemed necessary for her own good.

With the gag in place, Dr. Wilson began the throat examination. He inserted the tongue depressor, his thumb pressing down on her tongue as he shone the light into her throat. Iris had to fight the urge to gag, her eyes watering as the object pushed back the sensitive tissue. Yet, she found that the gag actually made it easier, holding her mouth open without the need for her to resist or fight against it. The doctor's eyes searched her throat, his expression serious and focused, he took a swab from the back of her throat, sweeping a long cotton bud al around.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the intensity of his gaze. "You're doing very well, Iris." The doctor's fingers moved to her neck, feeling along her glands, his thumbs pressing firmly into the soft flesh just below her ears. He was thorough, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he were searching for any sign of weakness or illness.

Finally, Dr. Wilson removed the gag, his eyes never leaving hers in the mirror. "Good," he said, his voice a low murmur of satisfaction. "Now, lie down for me."

Iris's body trembled as she lay flat. Before she knew it, the nurse had flung the down up, to her chest, exposing her abdomen and private parts. Dr Wilson palpated her stomach and listened to it with his stethoscope. "Nice active, healthy bowel." He pulled Iris's gown back down, restoring her modesty. Now, sit up and let's move on to your the breast exam."

Iris struggled to sit up then reached up and untied the gown, the fabric falling away to expose her large, pale breasts. She felt a rush of cold air, the room seeming to shrink around her as she waited for his verdict.

He stepped closer, his gaze moving to her chest, his eyes dark and hungry. "Pert, fully developed breasts," he murmured, his voice a rumble of approval. "Nurse Carlton, would you assist me?"

Sally moved closer, her own eyes lingering on Iris's breasts before she took one in her hand, her touch surprisingly gentle. She began to palpate the soft flesh, her fingers moving in concentric circles as she searched for lumps or irregularities. The sensation was strange, the nurse's hand cool and professional, yet the way her thumb brushed over Iris's nipple sent a jolt of pleasure through her body.

Dr. Wilson took the other breast, his hand mirroring the nurse's movements. Iris could feel the heat of his skin through the glove, and she couldn't help but arch her back, pushing herself into his touch. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he had noticed her reaction, and he applied a little more pressure, his thumb flicking over her sensitive peak.

The sensation was intense, a sharp pain that made her gasp. He watched her closely, his expression unreadable, as he pinched and rolled her nipple, the sensation sending waves of pleasure-pain through her body. It was as if he were conducting an experiment, testing her reactions, pushing her boundaries.

"Doctor," she whispered, her voice shaking with need, "it hurts."

He raised an eyebrow, his grip on her nipple tightening. "Pain is often the first step to improvement," he said, his voice firm, yet strangely gentle. "You need to learn to endure if you want to work here, Iris. We don't have time for fuss."