Dr. Ellis reached and retrieved a small remote from the side of the table. As he holds down a button, I find out it's purpose. First the table lowers until I'm laying flat. My firm breasts slightly pooling but now standing tall in contrast to the rest of my figure. Another button press, my legs begin to part, the stirrups separating, pulling my last modesty away. They spread, farther and farther, as I start to feel my muscles groan from the tension, he releases the button. My mound is revealed, a small trimmed triangle patch of hair, pointing down towards the exposed prize below it.

Dr. Ellis pushes another spot on the controller, the stirrups shift again, pushing back my legs. My knees move towards my splayed out arms as my the palms of my feet start to point higher up. The stirrups stop, my knees are inches away from my arms, feet are above my ass pointing higher than before. As I lift my head to look to the end of the table my pussy now appears alone, once framed by my thighs they have been stripped away, pushed back so my pussy stands out, hanging over the edge of the table alone with my bottom below it. Cold air from the ac vent above falls down to me, the cold air creeping across me. As it brushes over my pussy, it's hard coldness reveals to me that this position has spread me open slightly, tingling down until it curves in, sending a jolt through my spine as the cold air finds no resistance between my cheeks, now spread and taut from the bending of my legs

Oh God the doctor is seeing me like this. This position is no different than missionary, all that is missing is Mark between my legs. And now I'm in this intimate position for a man I barely met 15 minutes ago.

Click - the table starts to rise. How far? One foot, two feet? It feels impossible to know until I look over to Mark, I'm now eye level with his chest.

Click - What else? The table hums for a moment, and the whole table tilts, my head lowers as my ass rises. My breasts start to pull towards my head slightly as the table stops. No blood is rushing to my head...I couldn't have moved much. I gaze again to the end of the table. Is it my imagination? I swear I could see the upper corner of the room looking that way. It starts to dawn on me, I'm on display.

I could tell—no, I could feel—that no spot in the room hid my shame. Every inch of me could be seen, my pussy raised up like some obscene offering. I glanced around wildly, catching Mark's gaze as he walked slowly around the table, his eyes tracing over every inch of my body. No matter where he stood, he had a perfect view of my helplessness, my vulnerability, my sex. The contrast is sharp, humiliating. At home, when we are intimate we keep the lights low, blankets on the bed help hide me even in the comfort of my own room. But here? Now I'm like an experiment. A frog to be dissected, pinned down, spread open and exposed, the bright lights of the ceiling not allowing a shadow to hide any detail.

Mark sees my nerves, he walks over to me and crouches down, petting my hair. "Everything is alright, I'm sure this will be over soon".

Dr. Ellis adjusted his gloves, his tone clinical but with a hint of fascination. “It’s rare to need such extensive restraints,” he said, glancing at Mark. “With your permission, I’d like to document this for medical study. It’s a valuable teaching tool for students to understand how to properly restrain patients in extreme cases.”

My heart sank. No. No, he couldn’t mean—

Mark, standing back up didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “Whatever you need to help young minds learn.”

Before I could think of how to protest, Dr. Ellis retrieved a sleek digital camera from a nearby drawer. He started at a distance, capturing my entire body in the frame—the straps, the stirrups, my legs bent and spread, my breasts leaning towards my head. The flash was blinding, and each click of the shutter felt like an eternity of humiliation.

But it got worse.

He began to circle the table, snapping pictures from every angle—my side profile, the curve of my hips, the way my pussy was slightly parted by the position of my legs. Then he moved closer, stepping between my spread pushes back thighs. He pointed the camera down the pathway of my body, capturing every intimate detail: my exposed pussy, glistening slightly from the cold air; my breasts pushed up and out by the strap beneath them; and finally, my face, red with shame and humiliation.

The camera flashed again, and I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could disappear. But there was no escape. I was trapped—physically, emotionally, utterly. And all I could do was lie there, exposed and on display, while he documented every degrading moment.

Finally satisfied, he places the camera down on the tray next to him. He stands at the edge of the table, looking down towards me. I glance at him for a moment but I can't bear to make eye contact with him as he stands there, his own face is maybe only a foot or so away from my pussy. "I'm going to start your pelvic now, you may feel some discomfort." His words might be reassuring for some, but for me they felt like a judge reading a verdict, sentcing me to this torture.

His hand finds me, and I make a small jolt before relaxing again, or whatever I can call relaxing right now. He palpatates around my lips, working in a circle all around without touching them. His fingers move in, and slowly they prod at the outside of my lips, pressing on them from top to bottom, first the left side, then the right. A finger reaches in, slightly penetrating the crease between, as he uses his other finger to start to pinch between them. Again, he works from top to bottom, starting with the left side, then the right. I'm not sure anyone has touched me this slowly before. Mark is usually more direct, more dominant. This is teasing, and I'm not sure how to deal with it. My hips want to push towards his hands, I shift my focus towards my reaction, resisting the urge to respond to these touches.

How long has this been? A minute? An hour? Time starts to lose meaning when a stranger is learning your most intimate secrets. I feel it, two fingers enter between the folds, and then widen, spreading my lips apart as far as his fingers move. The cold air moves across, making me acutely aware; I thought I was exposed before, this is worse. Dr. Ellis uses his other hand, extending a single finger to observe the newly revealed flesh. Top to bottom, working from left to right, but always stopping just above my hole.

His hand works back upwards, a thumb gently lands on my clit, and slowly pulls back the small protection it has, exposing it more to the room. Again, a new level of embarrassment washed over me. How does he keep finding new places to reveal, new ways to make me feel more naked? An electric jolt runs up my spine. His finger is tapping on it, I know it's a soft touch, but it feels like someone tapping on a microphone, it has all of my attention... Oh no it has all of my attention, my resistance falls, my hips move towards him, if only slightly, the restraints not yielding to the movement. But it's too late, there is no way he and Mark didn't notice.

Before I can even try to see if they did his finger stops the tapping, moving instead to making small circles, pulling at my clit in different directions. I resolve to not move my hips, but I fail to notice the small groan that erupts from inside of me. I grit my teeth, as if to bite my own tongue to stop any more sounds.

He releases me, hands departing my sex, I feel my lips slowly start to close again. My breathing is hard, I take a large breath to compose myself again. As I lift my head I see Dr. Ellis holding something, he squeezes it to apply jelly across his finger. I lay my head back down, closing my eyes tightly shut, bracing for the invasion. His fingers return, spreading me open again as the cold jelly from his finger touches my hole. I clench, it won't stop him, his finger make circles at my entrance before slowly pressing in, working it's way in with twists, his finger rotating as I swallow it's length. As he reaches the end of his finger, I feel his knuckle come to rest on my pussy, his hand a fist.

"If you relax this will go faster, it's hard to tell what's what when you're this tense." His finger starts to move, it curls and presses, twisting around to feel every spot inside of me. After he finished a rotation he pulls out a bit and does it again. No secrets will be left, not the outside of me or inside. I look to Mark for comfort, seeking his reassuring eyes. He is standing on my left side, but he's not paying attention to me, or rather he is. His mouth is stoic and flat, but his eyes, his eyes are focused on the doctors actions. There is a glint in his eyes, a look I recognize from only one place, our bedroom. He's watching the doctor explore me, watching the finger probe my insides, slowly carving me out. I turn my head the other way. This has to be almost over.

A minute later, Dr. Ellis' finger withdraws. I let out a sigh, a sense of relief starts to wash over me, but at the same time I ache. The air no longer feels cold. My nipples are still hard, my pussy feels... dissatisfied. The touches teased me, and the straps, the exposure, the position, the pictures that were taken, I realize all of it built up a feeling in me. It's shame, but it's something else too. I can't tell Mark, I don't want him to feel insecure that I was turned on by what this stranger did to me.

Dr. Ellis backed away from me, moving across the room to make notes on his chart. "Do you have any concerns or have any irregular pains down there Caitlin?". No...one reason I've put this off for so long is that I'm healthy, and with no family history of concern this didn't feel important, a choice I'll try to make again to avoid this humiliation.

Before I can answer Mark speaks up. "Is it normal for us to need to use so much lube when we have sex?". What? Why does he have to bring that up!? I just want this to be over, to be released from this midevil contraption.

"It's normal to use lubrication before penetration Mr. Harper. A lot of women need extra lubrication to ensure safe intercourse."

"I know Dr., but she doesn't really produce any at all I think." The truth stings, not because it's wrong, because it means I'm spending more time bound on this table naked. Mark and I have discussed it, he isn't doing anything wrong, I've just always been this way. I still cum, but he is right, until I do I usually don't get wet at all. Some nights Mark has to stop several times to reapply lube to himself.

"I do see what you mean, look at this." Dr. Ellis walks back over between my legs, and without warning he is spreading my pussy open again. He motions for Mark to come over, and he quickly does. They lean in together and inspect me. I close my eyes, but it hardly matters, I can picture their view, both gazing at my most private place together. "I noticed before I did my internal palpatations, she hasn't secreted at all. I've had other patients who have needed to be restrained before, even though it is exceedingly rare. But every time I get to the internal part of the pelvic, there is clear evidence of secretions already. It's a natural response from the outer stimulation.". He releases my folds again as they continue to discuss my problem. As if I'm just an engine in a car, not running correctly.

"Is there any reliable way to make her...self lubricate Dr.?" I can't believe Mark is asking this. We can just keep using lube, it doesn't bother me and it costs nothing compared to the horror I'm being put through right now.

"Is she self secreting by the end of intercourse?"

"I'm not sure, we use so much lube I don't think I would be able to tell".

“I see,” Dr. Ellis said. “With your permission, I’d like to conduct a brief series of sensitivity tests. To see if we can pinpoint a cause for the delayed response. If she secrets I should be able to tell the difference between it and external lubricants”

"No, please!" I begged, tears welling in my eyes. "Mark, I can't—it's too much!"

Mark walked over and crouched next to me. He looked me straight into my eyes, his dominant look telling me that this is a moment where he is in control, he makes the choice. "You can and you will. This is for us, baby. Say yes."

Defeated, I whispered, "Yes..."