Jane, a young, determined woman with an air of quiet resilience about her, found herself in an uncomfortable predicament. As the lone female on the committee of the prestigious Willowbrook Country Club, she had faced her fair share of challenges from the older male members, whose entrenched attitudes were as outdated as the club's musty, leather-bound rulebook. But none of her previous encounters had quite prepared her for this.

It had begun with whispers, hushed tones, and furtive glances that grew more overt with each passing committee meeting. The men had grown increasingly restless, their impatience palpable as they discussed the club's future. Finally, they presented her with an ultimatum: to continue serving on the committee, she must submit to a medical exam, a stipulation they claimed was in strict accordance with the bylaws. Jane knew that the men did not bother with this rule themselves but had no recourse under the rules and so, reluctantly, agreed. She presumed that she would be able to ask her regular physician to conduct the exam and provide a report but was informed by letter that the committee was invoking its right to choose the physician - technicality which was intended for drug cheats.

Jane shuddered when she saw the name of the doctor they had chosen. The doctor assigned to this task was none other than Chad Claremont, the smug nephew of the vice-chairman. His reputation for being as tactless as he was thorough had preceded him, and the implication of his involvement was as clear as the cool, disdainful look in his eye. Jane had always felt a peculiar mix of irritation and something else entirely when she was around him. Perhaps it was the way his words danced around the edges of propriety, hinting at a challenge she hadn't yet met. Or maybe it was the way his confidence seemed to fill the room, leaving little space for doubt.

The exam was set to take place in a small, sterile room in the club's medical wing, a place that had seen more tennis-related injuries than actual health emergencies. The committee had insisted that she undergo the exam, claiming it was for the good of the club. Jane knew better. It was a power play, a blatant attempt to push her out of their inner circle.

Doctor Claremont had greeted her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, his lab coat crisp and his stethoscope gleaming. He was a tall, well-built man with a chiseled jaw and a head of black hair. He had thick hairy forearms and big hands which crushed hers when he offered a handshake. His voice, however, was as cold and clinical as the instruments he wielded.

"Now, Ms. Smith, I want you to understand that this exam is entirely voluntary," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "You can choose to end it at any point. But, should you decide to do so, the committee will have no choice but to consider you unfit for service."

Jane felt the weight of their intentions, a pressure that grew heavier with each second that ticked by on the wall clock. She took a deep breath, her mind racing. This was not what she had signed up for when she'd accepted the role of committee member. But she had worked too hard to let a bunch of old men intimidate her out of it.

"Let's get this over with," she said, her voice steady.

The doctor nodded, his smile unwavering. "Very well. Please remove all of your clothing, there's a gown on the couch." To her relief, he stepped outside as she changed out of her blouse and skirt. She noticed that the normal physio couch had been replaced with a bigger piece of equipment with stirrups like at the obgyn, which couldn't be a good sign.

Jane complied, her heart thudding in her chest as she stepped into the flimsy garment. She knew that this was only the beginning of what would be a grueling, degrading ordeal, but she had made her choice. The room grew warmer, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.

Claremont stepped back into the room, looking Jane up and down with a look that seemed cold rather than lascivious and directed her to sit on a chair whilst he asked her some "standard" questions. The first part of the exam was a barrage of personal questions that left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. The doctor took meticulous notes, his gaze never once straying from his clipboard as he asked about her menstrual cycle, and any medical conditions that might affect her ability to serve. It was clear that he was enjoying her discomfort, his tone just shy of patronizing. When he asked questions about her bowel movements, Jane felt her face turn bright purple and his questions about her sexual history made her grip the sides of the chair with anger.

She could see her was smirking when he asked her to stand so he could get her height measurement. She felt like a school girl standing straight against the wall.

Next, she was instructed to remove the gown and stand on the scales. She was about to ask if that was necessary but knew there was no point in making a fuss - he was clearly going to insist it was necessary. The cool air of the room raised goosebumps on her skin as she put the gown aside, standing in her bra and panties.

"I told you to remove all of your clothing" The doctor said slowly. "You must get better at following my instructions. Now, strip."

Jane's eyes widened, and she felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She knew she was in for an unpleasant experience, but the realization that she would be fully exposed in front of Chad Claremont was almost too much to bear. With trembling hands, she unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor, the coolness of the room making her breasts feel heavy and sensitive. She slid down her panties, stepping out of them. Her cheeks burned with a blend of humiliation and anger, but she met his gaze, refusing to show weakness.

The doctor's eyes remained on his clipboard as he called out, "Step on the scales, please."

Jane did as she was told, the cold metal pressing against her bare feet. She felt the scales wobble slightly under her weight and wondered how much of this was really necessary.

"Now for the body measurements," Claremont announced, his voice devoid of any warmth or sympathy. He approached her with a tape measure in hand. "Arms out," he instructed.

Jane held her breath as he wrapped the tape around her chest, noting down the number with a scribble. The brush of the tape against her skin was like a branding iron, marking her as his to examine. He measured her waist, her hips, and her thighs, his touch impersonal yet somehow invasive. She felt a twinge of fear as he paused before measuring her breasts. He did so with a detached air, but his eyes flickered up to meet hers, and she saw the hint of a challenge in his gaze.

"Now, bend over, please," he said, his voice a calm command. "I need to check your spine and hips."

Jane complied, her heart racing as she bent at the waist, her breasts swaying. He stepped behind her, his hands firm but gentle as he felt along her spine, his fingertips lingering longer than necessary.

"Now, I'd like to see how toned your body is," he said, his voice low and deliberate. "Please jump on your toes for me."

Jane looked up at him in the mirror, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and defiance. She knew he was enjoying her discomfort, and she was determined not to let it show. She took a deep breath and began to jump, her breasts bouncing with each impact. The doctor's eyes followed the movement, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face.

"Good, good," he murmured, scribbling notes. "Now, spread your legs wider."

Jane did as she was told, her legs shaking slightly. She could feel her cheeks burning as he studied her from behind, his gaze seemingly cataloging every inch of her exposed skin. She waited for an unprofessional insult but none came.

"Very good," he said finally. "You can stand up now."

"Sit down, please. Now, we're going to move on to the ENT exam." She looked at the gown across the other side of the room but the doctor shook his head.

Jane felt a spike of anxiety as he approached her with a tongue depressor and a tiny light. The exam was thorough, his cold instruments probing her ears, nose, and throat without any pretense of gentleness. She gagged when the tongue depressor touched the back of her throat, and he tsk-tsked.

"Relax, Ms. Smith," he said, his eyes gleaming. "We're just getting started."

Jane felt a surge of anger, but she took a deep breath and lay back on the examination table. She was aware of the starkness of the room, the antiseptic smell, and the coldness of the paper beneath her. The doctor's hands were cold as they began to palpate her breasts, his touch firm and methodical. She felt her body tense, but she forced herself to remain still.

"Breathe normally," he instructed, his voice a cool command.

Jane nodded, her eyes focused on the ceiling as she lay flat on the examination table, her hands reluctantly positioned atop her head. The doctor's gaze remained on her chest, his eyes narrowed in concentration. She felt his hands, cold and unyielding, grasp her breasts, his thumbs and forefingers pinching her nipples with a painful precision that made her wince. He twisted them gently, watching the way her body responded, his expression a curious blend of professional detachment and something more personal. It was as if he was searching for a reaction, a chink in her armor that would give him the upper hand in this twisted game of power.

"Please, doctor," she said through gritted teeth. "Is this really necessary?"

"Ah, but necessity is in the eye of the beholder," he quipped, his eyes never leaving her face. "Now, hold still."

He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin, and began to manipulate her nipples more firmly, his touch bordering on cruel. She felt them stiffen and ache under his ministrations, a sensation that sent a shiver down her spine. His eyes remained locked on hers, watching for any sign of submission, any hint of pleasure that she might inadvertently reveal.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, his voice a taunt.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice a strangled gasp.

"Good," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "An attitude adjustment is exactly what you need."

With that, he stepped back and picked up the stethoscope, the rubber ends cold against her skin. He placed it on her chest, his hand lingering for a moment before moving it to listen to her heartbeat. Jane felt the heat of embarrassment spread through her body as the cold metal touched her sensitive breasts, the sensation magnified by the starkness of the room and the intimate nature of the contact.

"Now, I'd like you to take deep breaths," he said, his voice a gentle contrast to his previous tone.

Jane did as she was told, her chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. She felt his hands move across her body, placing the stethoscope in various places. His touch was surprisingly gentle, almost caring, and she found herself relaxing slightly, lulled by the rhythm of his movements.

"Again," he said, moving the stethoscope to a different spot.

This time, when she breathed in, she felt a strange sensation, a mix of fear and something she didn't quite recognize. It was as if his touch had awakened something within her, a part of herself she had kept buried. She felt her body respond, her nipples tightening further, and she knew he had noticed.

"Your heart rate is a bit elevated," he mused, his eyes flicking down to her breasts before returning to her face. "Are you nervous, Ms. Smith?"

"It's...it's cold in here," she lied, her voice trembling.

"Hmm," he murmured, his fingers sliding over her skin to the next position. "I'll make a note of that."

Jane's breath hitched as his hand moved lower, the stethoscope pressing against her pelvic area. She closed her eyes, willing herself to remain calm, but the heat between her legs grew with every beat of her heart. It was as if her body was betraying her, responding to his touch despite her mind's protests.

The doctor's touch grew more deliberate, his stethoscope traveling down from her chest to her abdomen. He listened intently, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he moved it around her stomach. Jane felt a tremor of anxiety, her body acutely aware of his nearness, his focus on her most intimate areas. She bit her lip, trying to remain stoic, but the coldness of the stethoscope sent shivers through her body.

"Deep breaths, Ms. Smith," he instructed again, his voice a soothing rumble that seemed to resonate within her.

Jane did as she was told, her chest rising and falling under his watchful gaze. His hand remained on the small of her back, guiding the stethoscope as he listened to the symphony of her insides. She felt his fingertips trace the curve of her spine, sending an unwelcome shiver down her body.

"Your bowels," he said, his voice still calm, "are not sufficiently active. I'm afraid we'll have to proceed with an enema."

Jane's eyes flew open in shock, meeting his unblinking stare. "An enema?" she squeaked.

"Indeed," he nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's quite a simple procedure, really. Nothing to be concerned about."

But concern was exactly what Jane felt. The idea of the arrogant doctor administering an enema was mortifying, to say the least. "Can't we just...move on to something else?" she asked, desperation lacing her words.

"I'm afraid not," he said, his tone final. "It will be necessary for later stages in the exam, I'm sure you understand."

With a sigh that seemed to echo the disappointment in her own chest, Jane nodded. She watched as he turned to the cabinets and pulled out a tray with a variety of medical instruments that she recognized from her last unpleasant trip to the gynecologist. She felt a wave of dread wash over her as he selected a small, nozzle-like device and a clear plastic bag filled with a clear liquid.

"Lie on your side, face away from me and bring your legs to your chest," Jane did so. "You're going to feel my finger on your back passage as I apply a bit of lubricant you must hold very still." Jane winced but tried not to move.

"Good," he said, his voice a murmur of approval. "Now, for the enema." Jane felt something hard and plastic pushing up onto her.

The cold liquid began to flow into her, filling her up in a way that was both uncomfortable and humiliating. She could feel the pressure building, her body's natural protest against the intrusion.

"You're doing fine," he said, his eyes on the plastic bag as it emptied. "Just remember, you can stop this at any time."

The words hung in the air like a taunt, a reminder of the power he held over her. Jane clenched her fists and held her breath, determined to see this through.

The liquid continued to flow, and she felt her body begin to respond, the urge to push growing stronger. She bit her lip, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Breathe," he said, his voice a gentle coax. "Let it in. You're doing well." At the point that Jane started to panic about expelling it, the doctor started tugging the nozzle out and pushing something else back inside of her. "I've inserted a medical plug, you need to wait for two minutes and then you can nip into the bathroom and release. There's a small douche in there, please use it and the wet wipes to clean yourself up appropriately." Jane was embarrassed by this but so relieved not to be leaking onto the floor that she complied.

When she emerged from the adjoining bathroom, shamefaced, she saw that the stirrups of the couch had been extended. Wordlessly, the Claremont gestured for her to lie down. Jane was beyond mortification and felt she had come so far - there was no way she wasn't going to push through whatever came her way.

"Now," he began, his voice as cold and detached as the chrome instruments glinting under the harsh lights of the room, "you need to be prepared for the next phase of the exam."

Jane felt a fresh wave of dread wash over her. What more could they possibly want from her?

"As part of the thoroughness of this exam, it is essential that the area be...how shall I put it," he mused, his gaze lingering on her pelvis, "presentable." He paused for a moment, watching the understanding dawning on her face. "Yes, Ms. Smith, I need you to be completely shaved. Hygiene is of the utmost importance in our esteemed institution."

"You can't be serious," she whispered, her voice hoarse with disbelief.

"I assure you, I am," he said, his smile never wavering.

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of pity or compassion, but she found none. He was enjoying her humiliation, savoring every moment of it. Jane felt a spark of anger ignite in her, but she knew that resisting now would only make things worse

The doctor's eyes remained focused on his task as he squeezed out a dollop of gel and began to spread it over her mound. His hands were surprisingly gentle, his touch almost soothing, but the reality of what was happening was anything but comforting. She watched in the mirror as he picked up the clippers and switched them on. The buzz filled the room, a harsh sound that seemed to echo her own feelings of violation.

He began at the top of her mons and moved downward, the clippers leaving a trail of bare, smooth skin in their wake. The sensation was strange, the coldness of the gel contrasting with the warmth of her flesh. She felt the hairs snatched away, and she couldn't help but wince at the occasional pinch. His eyes remained focused on his work, his expression unreadable.

"Why are you doing this?" she finally asked, her voice small.

"It's for your own good," he said, his tone mockingly reassuring. "An unshaved area can harbor bacteria, and we wouldn't want any infections to impede your service to the committee, would we?"

The words felt like a slap, but she knew better than to argue. She lay there, her body trembling, as he shaved away every last bit of her modesty. When he was done, he stepped back and surveyed his work, a look of satisfaction flitting across his face.

"Excellent," he murmured. "Now, onto the next part of the exam."

Jane felt the coldness of the gel as he applied it to her freshly shaved skin. The doctor's voice remained calm and professional, explaining each step with a disturbing level of detail. She was acutely aware of the fact that she was completely exposed, vulnerable to his whims and the cold steel of his instruments.

"I will now proceed with the external genitalia examination," he announced, his eyes never leaving hers. "It's quite straightforward, really. I'll be checking for any irregularities or signs of infection."

He leaned in, his face a mask of concentration, and began to probe her with his gloved fingers. Jane felt a mix of fear and embarrassment as he touched her, his movements methodical and precise. She flinched as he parted her labia, his touch unyielding despite the sensitivity of the area.

"You're doing well," he said, his voice a gentle coax. "Just try to relax."

The lie of his words stung, but she took a deep breath and focused on the ceiling, willing her body not to betray her. The doctor's eyes remained on her face, watching her reaction closely. She felt a flicker of anger, a determination to show no weakness.

"Now, for the bimanual palpation," he continued, his voice a monotone recitation of medical jargon. "This will involve me inserting two fingers into your vagina and pressing on your abdomen to check the health of your internal organs."

Jane's stomach lurched, but she nodded, bracing herself for what was to come. He positioned her legs in the stirrups, and she felt the coldness of the speculum as it was inserted into her. The sensation was invasive, a stark reminder of her lack of control in this situation.

"You may feel some discomfort," he said, his voice a cold echo in the sterile room. "But try to stay still."

Jane took a deep breath as he began the palpation, his fingers moving within her with a clinical detachment that was somehow more terrifying than any cruelty could have been. She felt his hands press down on her stomach, the pressure increasing as he searched for any sign of malfunction within her body.

"You're very tense," he said, his voice a faint reprimand. "Please, try to relax."

The words were like a slap, but she bit her lip and nodded, trying to focus on the rhythm of her breathing rather than the horror of what was happening to her.

"Good," he said, his tone approving. "Now, we're going to do a rectovaginal exam."

The word 'rectovaginal' hung in the air like a curse, and she felt her body tense involuntarily. She knew what it entailed, had had one before, but never under such degrading circumstances.

"Now, Ms. Smith," Dr. Claremont began, his voice as smooth as a serpent's slither, "this is a simple procedure that will allow me to assess the health of your reproductive organs and rectum." His gloved fingers were already coated with lubricant, a cold reminder of what was to come. "If you could just scoot down the couch a bit further."

Jane did as she was told, the leather cool against her bare backside. The doctor stepped closer, his face a picture of calm professionalism that she knew was a facade. He was enjoying this, watching her squirm and blush.

"Spread your legs wider," he instructed, his voice low and authoritative.

Jane did as she was told, her body rigid with tension. She could feel the cool gel on her thighs as he parted her, the coldness of his fingers as they slid into her vagina and anus simultaneously. The sensation was alien, a violation that she hadn't been prepared for, despite the countless times she had braced herself for this moment. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the sound of her own breathing rather than the intrusion.

"Now, I'm going to insert one finger into your vagina," he said, his voice a clinical monotone, "and one into your rectum. This will allow me to examine the muscles and tissues."

Jane nodded, her eyes squeezed shut, willing herself not to react. But the feeling was too much, the pressure too intense. She let out a whimper, a small sound that seemed to echo in the cold room.

"It's all right, Ms. Smith," he said, his voice a soothing balm that did nothing to ease her discomfort. "Just keep breathing."

The doctor's fingers moved inside her, exploring the boundaries of her body with a thoroughness that seemed almost invasive. She felt a tear slip down her cheek, the indignity of the situation overwhelming her.

"Now, I need you to push down as if you're trying to have a bowel movement," he said, his gaze never leaving her face.

Jane nodded again, her eyes still closed, her mind racing with thoughts of escape. She did as he asked, her body responding instinctively despite her mind's protests. She felt his fingers push deeper, the pressure increasing until she thought she couldn't take it anymore.

"Good," he murmured, his eyes flicking to the clock on the wall. "Now, hold that for a few seconds."

The seconds felt like an eternity, each one stretching out longer than the last. Jane's body trembled with the effort of holding herself open to him, of enduring this violation.

"Now, I'm going to use the speculum," he continued, his voice calm and detached. "It's just to get a better look."

The cold metal of the speculum was a shock, and she gasped as he inserted it. The feeling was like a vice, spreading her open, exposing her most intimate parts to his scrutiny.

"Breathe," he said, his eyes on the instruments he was preparing. "Breathe in and out, slowly and deeply."

Jane focused on her breathing, the air rushing in and out of her lungs like a lifeline, the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. She felt the speculum being adjusted, the doctor's gaze never leaving her face as he searched for any sign of weakness.

"Now, I'm going to take some swabs," he announced, his voice cold. "This will be uncomfortable, but it's necessary for the exam."

The swabs were cold and rough, scraping against her tender flesh as he took his samples. She bit her lip, willing herself not to cry out, not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"Almost done," he said, his tone almost kind. "Just a few more."

Jane nodded, her eyes still closed, her mind racing. She felt the swabs retreat, then all that was left was the doctor using his light to stare into her vagina for what seemed like a very, very long time. At last, the speculum was removed but Jane's sense of relief was short-lived.

"Alright, Ms. Smith," Dr. Claremont said, his voice as cold and dispassionate as the instruments that had just been inside her. "Now, I need a urine sample." He gestured to a small bathroom attached to the exam room. "You'll find a pot on the side."

She felt a surge of anger and humiliation, but she knew better than to argue. She swung her legs over the side of the table, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered between them.

Inside, the bathroom was tiny and stark, the only decoration being a small, plastic pot with a screw-top lid. She felt a moment of absurdity, as if she'd stumbled into a surreal nightmare. But she knew she had no choice but to play along. She sat down on the toilet, the cold porcelain sending another shiver through her body.

"Remember, Ms. Smith," the doctor's voice called through the door, "I need a clean sample. Make sure to wash thoroughly before urinating."

Jane nodded, even though he couldn't see her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of her heart. She washed herself, her hands shaking as she did so. When she was finished, she stood and approached the toilet, the pot in her hand. She took a deep breath and began to urinate, the sound echoing in the small space. The sensation was strange, the pot a foreign object in her hand.

When she was done, she screwed the lid on tightly and stepped out of the bathroom, her cheeks flaming. The doctor took the pot from her without a word, his eyes never leaving hers. He placed it on a tray and took it to a small sink, his movements efficient and precise. Jane thought for a very short second that the ordeal might be over but she was wrong.

"Now, Ms. Smith," he said, turning back to her, "it's time for the final part of your exam. The rectal exam."

Jane felt a knot form in her stomach. This was it. The moment she had been dreading the most. She had thought the worst was behind her, but she had been wrong.

"You can get up on the table," he instructed, his voice as calm as ever. "Lie on your side with your knees drawn up to your chest."

Jane did as she was told, feeling the coldness of the table beneath her, her body exposed and vulnerable. The doctor moved around the table, his steps measured and deliberate. He washed his hands thoroughly before donning a fresh pair of gloves.

"This is a simple procedure," he began, his voice a lecture that she had heard before. "It's to ensure that there are no abnormalities in your rectum or lower digestive tract."

Jane nodded, her eyes fixed on the wall. She couldn't bear to look at him.

"Now, I'm going to lubricate the examining finger," he said, his voice a calm monotone. "And then I'll insert it into your rectum."

Jane felt the coolness of the gel as he spread it over her anus, his touch surprisingly gentle. It was a stark contrast to the coldness of the metal instruments that had been used on her earlier. She took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for the inevitable intrusion.

"Whenever you're ready," he said, his voice a gentle prompt.

With a nod, Jane tensed her muscles, bracing herself for the worst. She felt his finger press against her, the sensation strange and uncomfortable. She had had this exam before, but it had never been like this. This was a violation, a power play that had nothing to do with her health and everything to do with the committee's desire to control her.

"Relax, Ms. Smith," he murmured, his voice a coax. "It will be over soon."

His finger slid into her, and she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips. It was a strange mix of pain and embarrassment, a feeling that made her want to both fight and surrender.

"Good," he said, his voice approving. "Now, I'm going to check for any irregularities."

Jane felt his finger move within her, the sensation a slow, methodical probing that seemed to last an eternity. His eyes remained on her face, watching for any sign of discomfort or distress.

"Does that hurt?" he asked, his voice clinical.

"No," she sighed, her voice tight.

"Good," he said, his voice a murmur of satisfaction. "Just hold still."

Jane's body was a taut bowstring of tension as she felt his finger move deeper, the coldness of the gel a stark contrast to the heat of her embarrassment. She heard the sound of his gloves snapping off, the crinkle of plastic as he discarded them.

"Now, for the final part," he said, his voice a gentle coax. "The anoscope."

He picked up the device, the metal gleaming under the harsh lights. It was smaller than she had imagined, but the way he held it, with such confidence and ease, made it seem monstrous.

"I'm going to lubricate the anoscope now," he said, his voice a soothing hum. "It will make the process easier."

The cool gel was applied to the tip of the instrument, the sensation making her flinch. She watched, almost hypnotized, as he coated the metal with a thick layer of the cold fluid.

"Now, I need you to stay very still," he instructed, his voice low and calm. "And try to relax your muscles."

Jane nodded, her body trembling slightly. She took a deep breath, willing herself to relax, to endure this final humiliation.

"Good girl," he said, his tone a blend of condescension and praise.

The doctor approached the examination table, his eyes on hers. He paused for a moment, as if savoring the moment, before he brought the anoscope to her anus. She felt the cold metal touch her, and she had to fight the urge to pull away.

"Just breathe," he murmured. "It's going to be fine."

The pressure grew as he pushed the instrument in, the sensation strange and unwelcome. It was unlike anything she had felt before, a violation that seemed to go on forever.

"There we go," he said, his voice almost gentle. "You're doing great."

The doctor began to move the instrument, explaining each step as he went. She felt the stretch, the burn as he pushed it deeper;

"This is to check for any irregularities, Ms. Smith," he said, his voice a soothing drone. "It's quite important for your health."

Jane bit her lip, the pain a white-hot spike that shot through her body. She could feel the tears threatening to fall, but she blinked them away, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

"Now, I'm going to expand it," he warned.

The sensation was sudden, the metal blooming inside her, filling her up. She couldn't help the whimper that escaped her, the pressure intense.

"It's okay," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Just a little more."

He twisted the instrument slightly, and she felt a pop, followed by a wave of pain that made her gasp. Jane felt him move the instrument around, the sensation strange and foreign. She could feel the coolness of the metal against the walls of her rectum, the pressure unyielding.

"Now, I'm going to withdraw it slowly," he said. "Just keep breathing."

The slow retreat of the device was almost worse than the insertion. It felt like a part of her was being torn away, a piece of her dignity that she would never get back.

"Al lright, that's it," he said, his voice a cool dismissal.

He removed the anoscope with the same calm efficiency with which he had inserted it, the gel making a wet sound as it was pulled from her body. She felt a mix of relief and revulsion, the room spinning around her.

"You can get up now," he instructed, his voice a command.

Jane slowly rose from the examination table, her legs wobbly. She reached for the gown that lay crumpled on the floor, pulling it over her body. The fabric clung to her damp skin, a reminder of the ordeal she had just endured. She avoided his gaze, her eyes downcast as she fastened the ties.

"You can get dressed now, Ms. Smith," he said, his tone devoid of any warmth. "Your exam is complete."

Jane nodded, her hands shaking as she slipped into her clothes, feeling the fabric against her skin, the fabric a stark contrast to the coldness she had felt moments ago. She couldn't wait to get out of the room, to leave the stench of the doctor's arrogance behind her.

As she dressed, she heard the doctor typing away at his computer, his fingers a blur. She knew he was documenting every detail of the exam, every humiliation she had suffered. The thought of his report made her stomach churn.

"Now, if you have any questions about the exam or your health," he began, his voice as cold as the steel instruments he had used on her, "you can call my office."

"Thank you, doctor," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"But remember, Ms. Smith," he said, pausing in his typing to look at her. "This exam is strictly confidential. If you choose to speak of it outside of this room, the committee will consider it a breach of club confidentiality."

Jane felt a flash of anger. It was a not-so-subtle threat, a warning to keep quiet about the indignities she had suffered.

"Of course," she said, her voice tight. "I understand."

"Good," he said, his smile cold and calculating. "I'll have my report filed by the end of the week."

The words hung in the air like a noose, a promise of further humiliation. Jane felt a chill run down her spine as she realized that she had no choice but to wait and see what the committee would do with the doctor's findings.

As she left the medical wing, her mind was racing. What had they been looking for? What would the report say? Would they finally have their excuse to force her out?

The rest of the week was a blur of anxiety and anticipation. Jane threw herself into her work, trying to focus on anything but the impending decision. She avoided the committee members, their knowing glances and smirks a constant reminder of the power they held over her.

Finally, the day came. The committee had called a meeting, and she knew that it was time to face the music. She walked into the wood-paneled room, her head held high despite the tremor in her step. The men looked up from their leather chairs, their eyes raking over her.

The vice-chairman, a portly man with a comb-over and a smug smile, cleared his throat. "Ms. Smith," he said, his voice a sneer. "We have received Dr. Claremont's report."

Jane felt her heart drop into her stomach, her palms slick with sweat.

"The doctor has informed us that you are in excellent health," he continued, his eyes never leaving hers. "However, he has recommended that you undergo a few more...procedures, to ensure that you are fit to serve."